Nashville by Heart: A Novel

by Tina Ann Forkner

  “Oh no,” Gillian said.

  “What is it, sugar?”

  At the time, Gillian had been in too much pain to think about Josie. But now Gillian remembered the bottle glittering in the ice and the sparkling long-stemmed flutes on the desk where Josie had sat, smiling, as Gillian left.

  “I was thinking of Josie, Will’s assistant. She had champagne and cheese all ready to toast my deal. I didn’t even give her a chance to pour it, or to thank her for all she’s been doing. I just left.” Gillian shook her head, disgusted at herself.

  “Well, goodness,” Louise said. “That’s not like you.”

  “I know. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “I bet it was the good stuff too.” Her mom gave her a playful squeeze of the shoulder.

  “Thanks, Momma, for making me realize what a bad child I am.”

  Louise laughed. “Just doing my job.”

  “I love you, Momma.”

  “I love you too, sugar.”

  ~~~~

  In her tiny bedroom back at the house, surrounded by more teddy bears than one might imagine could fit into a small room, Gillian arranged a fan in the corner and stood in only her tank top and underwear with her arms out to the side, trying to cool off.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she moaned into the empty room. “It’s hotter ’n hell’s basement on the day of reckoning.”

  Giving up on cooling off, she opened the box from Will, pulled out all the packaging, and lifted out her guitar. There was a note.

  Dear Gillian,

  Tasha said you left this behind, but since you’re taking a creative vacation before you get started, which is what I told the record label when they were impatient to meet with you, I thought you might need this to write some new songs.

  Gillian swiped a stupid tear.

  I Love You, darlin’.

  -Will

  Gillian picked up the guitar. She’d missed it more than she thought she would. Adjusting the strap, she placed it over her head, her hands along the strings. It needed a little bit of tuning, but that didn’t take long.

  How in the world had she thought she could take a break from music? Especially when she’d signed a contract? It had always been her dream to make it in Nashville, and she was on her way. She only hoped her overwhelming need to see her momma and Gold Creek Gap wouldn’t jeopardize her career.

  Gazing out the bedroom window at her momma’s row of hollyhocks waving in the breeze, she picked out a few notes, letting them hum through her body. It wasn’t long before, in her mind, she was back at The Steel Spur playing in front of a crowd on the cusp of something big. She could hear the crowd go crazy and then quiet again as the sound reverberated through the room. The tiny hairs on her forearms stood at attention. She wanted to write a new song.

  She wanted to write a dozen new songs, and as she wrote, her heart opened up as sure as the blue morning glories winding up the front porch. Her dad might have abandoned her, but the truth was, he’d left her with the gift of music. She was OK, and she couldn’t wait to tell Will.

  ~~~~

  Hours later as she was still writing, her phone buzzed with a new text.

  “What do you think of my latest present, darlin’?”

  She dialed his number. She hadn’t used video calling with anyone except Louise, but she wanted to see him. When his face popped up on the screen, her chest tightened a little.

  He skipped right past hello. “Lord Almighty, you are so beautiful. I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

  She offered him a smile. “You’ve always had the worst come-on lines.”

  “Who, me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “What else do I need to say to get you to come back?”

  She propped the phone on her dresser and picked up her guitar. Settling on her bed, she hit a chord.

  “I don’t belong in Nashville, Will. At least not all of me.”

  He frowned. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “A part of me has to be here,” she said, rushing to explain.

  “Listen, Gillian—”

  “That’s what I’ve realized,” Gillian said. “Since I’ve been home. Anyway, listen to this.”

  It was a love song, but not like the ones she’d been singing for Will lately. This one was about a girl who left town for bigger dreams, only to find out that what she wanted couldn’t be found in Gold Creek Gap or Nashville. Only in her heart and in the heart of the man she loved. When she hit the last chord, she waited for Will to say something. He didn’t.

  She peered into the little phone screen. Will was seated, elbows on his desk, his hands stroking his stubble like he always did when he was thinking.

  Gillian held the phone close. “Well?”

  A slow smile spread across his face. He started to say something, but his voice broke a little.

  “Will?”

  He placed his hand on his heart, shaking his head back and forth.

  “Ms. Gillian Heart, I’d like to sign you on the spot,” he teased.

  “So you liked the song?”

  “Darlin’, I loved it.”

  Her heart brimmed with a crushing desire to feel Will’s arms around her. “Nothing like the blues to inspire a new song.”

  “It kills me to think I’m the reason you left Nashville. Tell me when you’re coming back.”

  “You aren’t the reason. And anyway, you miss me, don’t you?”

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “I kind of miss you too.”

  “Then tell me when you’re coming back to be my client.”

  “I’ll be your client.” She smiled at the phone screen. “I’ll be more than that, if you’re asking.”

  He grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m asking.”

  ~~~~

  Louise knocked on Gillian’s bedroom door right before seven a.m. on Sunday morning. Gillian’s eyes felt like they were glued shut after another late night of talking with Will on the phone. They hadn’t worked out every little thing yet, and he was still not ready to give up the idea of her moving in with him, but they both agreed she had to get back to Nashville.

  “I love you, darlin’,” he’d said, and she was slush.

  “Oh heavens, Momma. I can’t go to church. I’m too tired.”

  “Well you’re the one who said I should wear my new shirt to church, so you’re going. Get up.”

  Getting up early on Sundays was one of the things she didn’t miss about Gold Creek Gap, but when her mom said get up, she had no choice. Soon the house would be alive with the scent of a country breakfast of biscuits, gravy and sausage, and if she wanted to eat, church was always a part of the deal.

  “Did I ever tell you Will was a preacher’s kid, Momma?”

  “You didn’t.” She dished Gillian’s plate high with biscuits and gravy. “Did his parents have to force him to go to church on Sundays too?”

  “Sounds like it. Sounds like he was quite the bad boy.”

  “He’s changed?”

  Gillian thought of how Will treated her, all he had done for her.

  “Yes. He has.”

  “Changed by love,” Louise said.

  Gillian’s phone buzzed. “Who could that be this early on a Sunday?”

  “It’s probably Will, honey, telling you to enjoy church.”

  Gillian read the text and smiled. As usual, her momma was right.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After the sermon, cookies and punch were being served in the lobby. It was comforting how some things never changed, one of the things she could always depend on in Gold Creek Gap. She reached for a pink sugar cookie shaped like a flower.

  “Gillian Heart.” It was Mrs. Wooten, her fifth grade teacher. “I sure wish I could make it over to Nashville and hear you sing something.”

  Gillian smiled. “You’d love Nashville, but I’ve sure missed this town.”

  Several women, many she knew from school, crowded around her. One of them piped up. “Why don’t you sing one
of your songs for us right now?”

  Gillian looked around the full church. Hardly anyone had gone home yet. She smiled, touched, but reticent to start singing like she owned the place.

  “Go on,” Louise said, but Gillian shook her head.

  “I don’t have my guitar. I left it out at Momma’s.”

  Mrs. Wooten patted her arm. “Please sing a little song for us. Everybody wants to hear.”

  Gillian looked around at the expectant faces. What a bunch of nice people. When one of them produced a guitar from the stage, she gave in. People were starting to gather around. What choice did she have?

  She sat on a stool that somebody placed behind her and strummed the guitar once, noting it was already tuned. “It’s just a silly love song.”

  “There’s no such thing as a silly love song,” said the preacher’s wife as she moved to stand beside Momma.

  Gillian began to play, the notes dancing around the room in a summery, breezy rhythm that had the crowd tapping their toes and nodding their heads to the beat. Her momma smiled approvingly, and Gillian grinned back. She was having fun. She didn’t care about Cooper Heart right now. She knew she would always be a singer, no matter how long her dad stayed gone. She would sing even if he didn’t come back.

  Someone started to clap to the beat, and she thought the only thing missing was lyrics more fitting a church gathering, but it was a love song. Love is everything, and wasn’t that what they’d all learned about during the sermon that morning? She didn’t have to work hard to remember the words, even though it was new. The song flowed out even better than it had when she’d sung it for Will, and as she watched the admiring faces of her small town friends and the proud smile on Momma’s face, a memory of singing for those same folks when she was a little girl sprang to mind. They’d been her first audience, and here they were, still cheering her on. She wanted to thank them, so after that song, she struck up another, one they’d know the words to, and then another after that.

  When she plucked the last note, everyone applauded enthusiastically. She smiled and was purposeful about thanking them for their support, as well as praising them for their cookies. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had food so good, not even at The Sweetest Tea where she’d told them she used to be a waitress before her agent discovered her. They were interested in hearing about that too, so with a nod and a smile from the preacher, she ended up being the focus of a question and answer session.

  The sweetest part was when a little girl asked her, “Can I have your autograph?”

  “You betcha,” she said. “You know, I was about your age when I started singing myself. Do you sing?”

  The little girl nodded, and soon there were a handful of children plying her with questions, and even one lovely teenage girl hovering in the background. She made a mental note to ask her momma who the girl was. Maybe she could encourage her, and the idea of it made something stir inside Gillian. Maybe she could be the inspiration for other small town kids to follow their own dreams.

  Eventually people went back to visiting, and the children went back to playing. When she finally broke away from old acquaintances whom she’d wanted to catch up with, she gave back the guitar and headed for more cookies. She’d been telling the truth about how good they were.

  “Gillian, dear.” She felt a hand on her arm. It was Aunt Cher, who’d always tried to help them out after her dad left. “You are so talented, honey. Just like your daddy.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Cher.” What else could she say? Her father was Aunt Cher’s brother. Cher had tried for years to get him to call Gillian, but he never had. Gillian knew her aunt meant well, but she wished she’d just give up.

  “My brother is a stupid man, but I want you to know something. The last time I talked to him…”

  “Oh no,” Louise said, coming up to Gillian’s side. “You didn’t call him, did you, Cher?” Cher and Cooper Heart were known for the huge sibling arguments they used to get into when her dad still lived in Gold Creek Gap.

  She looked guilty. In spite of herself, Gillian’s heart skipped a hopeful beat.

  “I’m sorry. I had to. He needed to know what he was missing when it came to his girl.” Aunt Cher would have had no way of knowing the fresh pain her dad’s name had caused her, but her momma did.

  Louise slipped an arm around her waist. “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t say nothing.”

  Gillian wasn’t surprised, but the news still hit her in the chest. He didn’t even care enough to ask. Why would Aunt Cher tell her this?

  “Well that no good excuse for a…” Louise began, letting go of Gillian and planting her fists on her hips.

  “Momma,” Gillian whispered, “it’s no big deal.” But they both knew it was.

  “He didn’t say nothing,” Aunt Cher said, “because he was shocked, and then he started crying. I hung up on him after that. I just wanted him to know what he was missing out on, sugar. But he cried like a blathering baby, so proud he was.” Cher smiled, her mission accomplished.

  Gillian saw the look on her momma’s face and knew she was trying to discern how this news made her daughter feel. She’d spent the last decade trying to protect Gillian, and her aunt shouldn’t have called him, even if she’d meant well. Cher’s timing was terrible as usual, no matter how sincere.

  “Thank you, Aunt Cher.” She gave her a little hug, remembering they were in a church, and turned to her momma, who looked like she’d been hit by a truck. They were both ready to go home.

  But home, Gillian now understood, was Nashville. With Will.

  “I can’t tell you how good it was to see you with that guitar in your arms again, darlin’.” She spun, shocked to hear Will’s voice.

  He was standing in the church’s open double doors holding his cowboy hat in his hands and wearing one of his best black western shirts with the pearl snaps.

  “How long you been standing there?” Her heart hammered. Unlike Aunt Cher, his timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

  “Long enough to see you sing like the musician you were meant to be.”

  Gillian nodded, thinking that maybe when it came to music, Will was the only one who truly knew who she was now.

  “You crazy thing, Will.” She rushed toward him. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.” After a long, tight hug, he let go of her just enough so he could have a look around.

  “This church reminds me of the one I grew up in.” He reached for a cup of punch.

  “It’s kind of small,” Gillian said.

  “I like the small churches best,” he said. “But they sure are hard to find in Nashville.”

  “About Nashville,” she said quietly.

  “About Nashville,” he said. “We need to talk later.”

  A wave of shame swept over her, and she couldn’t wait until later. She whispered so that only he could hear. “Oh my gosh, Will. I’m so embarrassed how I ran off like a kid. I’m an idiot.”

  “Not an idiot,” he said, his own voice low. “But the record executives have been waiting for two weeks to meet with you, darlin’. They’ve guessed that your creative vacation is a sham. They’re worried you won’t be able to handle the life of a recording artist.”

  Her heart sank, all of her dreams swirling around with it and threatening to go right down the drain. Her happiness from the previous moment threatened to seep out as a stream of tears. She wondered what she would tell her mom, what she’d tell all the people she’d just sung for.

  “So, they probably want to cancel my contract,” she said.

  “Not yet,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Maybe if you bring them back some good songs, they’ll forgive you.”

  She’d give anything to go back and not be so reckless. Leaving town like that was the stupidest thing she’d ever done. And over her dad! She shouldn’t have ever made him important enough to destroy her dream. She gazed at Will, trying to gauge how bad it was. She had a feeling Will hadn’t told
her everything yet.

  “What about you?” she whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

  “If you go back,” he said, his face serious. “And if you’ll sing that song for your record label, the one you wrote about me.”

  “Only if you stay here with me today. We’ll go back tomorrow.” She twisted her face in a comical expression, knowing it might not be an option.

  “Just today,” he said. “Besides, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than stay in this charming little town, but you need to be in a meeting tomorrow afternoon if you want to save this.” She could see he was totally serious as he reached for a cup of punch. He held it up.

  “To saving your record deal.”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to toast in church,” she said in a half-hearted effort to lighten the mood. He touched his paper cup to hers anyway, then set it down on the table beside them.

  “What about kissing?” He placed a hand on his chin, considering. “Is that allowed?”

  “Only at weddings,” she said, and then reddened. Hopefully he didn’t think she was suggesting he propose, although she wouldn’t have minded that.

  His eyes sparkled. “Let me try to remember. I think kissing in church is one of the reasons my dad kicked me out, but come here anyway.”

  “Really? You still want to kiss me after I’ve messed everything up?”

  “Mmm hmm.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Are you trying to get kicked out of church again?”

  He laughed, studying the slight form of the smiling preacher across the church hall.

  “I’m a lot bigger than I was back then, and I think I could take him if he tried, but make no mistake, I know how to be a gentleman around a girl like you.”

  He pressed his lips to hers, lightly, so as, she presumed, not to scandalize the church ladies. He pulled away, making a good show of being an appropriate gentleman. This, to Gillian’s surprise, brought a few disappointed boos and some good-humored shaking of heads from the ladies standing around, particularly Aunt Cher, Mrs. Wooten, and amusingly, the preacher’s wife. She caught sight of her momma, smiling next to Aunt Cher.