Head Over Spurs: Hell Yeah!

by Sable Hunter

  She hugged herself. “Yes, he did. I thought I was on top of the world until I stupidly came outside by myself for some fresh air and…” She pointed toward the two thugs who had accosted her. “I’m still shaking.” She glanced back down to his side, pushing his hands away and raising his shirt so she could see the long ragged cut that was bleeding freely. “We’ve got to get you to the doctor.”

  Tanner was ready to follow her anywhere, but he was soon brought out of his daze when he saw two cops turn the corner. “I’ve got to go.” He didn’t want to, he wanted to stand right here and bask in her attention. But if those cops found the drugs in his pocket, he’d be in hot water. “I wish you all the luck in the world.”

  With that, he pulled away and ran off into the night, mingling with the crowd until he could break away and limp home. His father would be angry and Desiree was right, he needed to see a doctor.

  He also needed to see Desiree, but the chance of that ever happening again was slim to none.

  * * *

  The following couple of weeks were tumultuous for Desiree. Shaken up by the attack, she had to fight to concentrate, fight to act normally in order to perform at her best. Only the knowledge that her whole career depended on how she presented herself at the next few performances kept her going.

  Fred Madison was flying her to Nashville, where she would open for Carrie Underwood at The Basement. She wanted to take advantage of her time there, visit The Bluebird and other havens for newcomers and big names alike. Since she wrote her own music, Fred told her there was a chance she could succeed on two fronts. Good songwriters were in high demand. A new tune had been going through her head, the words seeming to linger just beyond her reach. They’d come, she knew her process, a phrase here, a line there and soon she’d have something from the heart. This one would be called White Knight.

  She couldn’t believe the cowboy who haunted her dreams had just walked out of her life. Desiree had a plan and she was going to use her music to achieve it. Stepping out of the shower, she stood in front of the mirror and toweled dry, wondering if she’d made the right decisions in life. Her ambitions had kept her busy, but barely above the poverty line. The home she left behind in Austin was just a one-bedroom apartment on the east side of I35, not the best part of town. She’d had very few boyfriends in the past few years, Desiree just couldn’t seem to be able to work a social life in with her career. Her passion was music, nothing else seemed as important.

  And sex?

  Desiree could count her intimate encounters on one hand and none of them had been anything to brag about. Nothing like what was depicted in love songs, not even the ones she penned herself. In her limited experience, love wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  Or maybe she just hadn’t met the right person.

  The face of her protector came to mind. She didn’t know his name. But she soon would. Desiree planned on performing the song as soon as she finished it, and when she did, she was going to call him out. Ask him to contact her. Surely he would. Her conscience and her heart wouldn’t allow him to go unrecognized and un-thanked.

  Just thinking about her rescuer made Desiree smile. Men like him didn’t come along every day. Pulling on her underwear, she ran to the closet and grabbed the blue sequined number she’d picked up on a sale rack at The Domain, her favorite mall in Austin. After she’d pulled it on and stepped into a pair of high heels, Desiree applied the least amount of make-up she thought she could get away with. One reporter had called her fresh-faced and she took that as a compliment. Another had suggested she dye her hair, pointing out that the swath of dark brown mingling with the blonde looked odd. She didn’t think so, it was one of the few ways she took after her mother – and a way to remember her. But she’d listen to the people who knew best, if they wanted her to cover it up, maybe she could dye it or heck, she might opt to wear wigs like Dolly Parton. Desiree had laughed just this week when Dolly responded to a reporter who asked if dumb blonde jokes offended her. She’d responded by saying they didn’t bother her, she wasn’t blond and she certainly wasn’t dumb. Desiree agreed, Dolly was her role model.

  Adding a simple cross necklace and a tiny pair of gold studs, Desiree backed up and glanced at herself. With a wry smile, she shrugged. She didn’t look much like a star. But when she climbed onstage and the music started, something grabbed ahold of her, a power surged through her that electrified the air. Desiree could open her mouth and sing with the angels. Only when she was singing did she feel worthy. And she was still amazed that her hero had stepped in to fight her battle when she needed him the most.

  Seeing that she had time, Desiree grabbed her faithful pen and paper from the desk and sat down on the bed to write.

  White Knight

  Wrong place, wrong time, I could have died.

  I was afraid, I was terrified until you stood by my side

  Out of nowhere you came to me, choosing to stand up for me

  I owe you my thanks, I owe you my life

  My White Knight.

  Some would have walked on by, some would have run

  You did not hesitate, you stood by your guns

  My White Knight fought for me

  My White Knight saved me

  With a smile she stopped, remembering his kind face, then wrote another line or two. She hummed as she wrote, the tune she composed gave the song a haunting feeling.

  When I was desperate, thought it was the end

  You became my hero, my protector, my friend.

  I’m no princess, no suitor’s prize

  But I’d love to thank you, to look in your eyes

  Please come and find me -

  Abruptly she stopped, gazing at the lines she’d written. What was she asking? With amazement at her daring, she covered her warm cheeks with the palm of her hand. Could she ever be brave enough to sing it? What would he think? Would he be happy or think she’d lost her mind?

  “Desiree, it’s time.” A voice spoke through the door accompanied by a few taps. With a sigh, she laid down her pad and went to make her Nashville debut. White Knight could wait, but she was determined to finish it. Finding her knight in shining armor was too important. She’d convinced her manager to keep the details of what happened to her out of the papers, she knew the man involved would recognize the meaning of the song.

  Some eight hundred and fifty miles west, Tanner Barron was standing outside the Travis County courthouse, awaiting to enter his father’s arraignment. Reporters snapped photos of him, but he hid his face the best he could by pulling his hat down and looking away. Raymond had been picked up for possession and since it was his third offense, he’d been looking at some serious jail time and he knew it. Foolishly he’d fought back, his hot temper getting the best of him. He’d wrestled with the police, managing to get one of their guns away from them. In the struggle, the gun went off and one of the policemen was killed. Raymond swore it was an accident, but it was unlikely the judge or the jury would believe him. Tanner’s heart hurt. The only thing he was thankful for was that he himself hadn’t been fingered as being the one who’d bought most of the drugs for his father. Tanner knew he’d done wrong, but disobeying his dad – even in this – had been almost impossible. He vowed from this point on to walk the straight and narrow.

  Only one good thing had come out of it all. He’d met a young law clerk, Zane Saucier, who was working in legal aid with the lawyer who’d taken his father’s case. Zane had made no bones about the fact his father would go to jail, but he promised they’d do their best to get the charges down to manslaughter or an accidental killing. As Zane had questioned Tanner, he’d discovered the man knew the McCoys of Tebow Ranch where his uncle used to work. After hearing that Tanner had aspirations of working there, he’d called Aron McCoy and put in a good word for him. By some miracle, he’d been offered a job. It would just be after school and on weekends until he could graduate, but at least he’d have something to work toward. They were even going to let him live in the bunkh
ouse. He’d have to transfer to Kerrville High School, but that was no problem. With his dad most likely in jail and Desiree no longer singing in town, he had no real reason to stay in Austin.

  * * *

  During the next few weeks, Tanner’s world was turned upside down. Today was his father’s trial. When he stepped into the courthouse, he let the moving crowd jostle him in the right direction. He was nervous, seeing his father sitting at the defendant’s table and hearing the evidence against him made his stomach turn over. Tanner sat at the back of the courtroom and when it was over, he hunched over, only meeting his father’s eyes once as they led him out of the courtroom. He’d received twenty years.

  “Come with me, Tanner.” Zane led him to the holding cell so he could tell his father goodbye. Raymond had always been a robust handsome man, but now he looked old and haggard.

  “I’ll get out early, I promise. In the meantime, you take care of yourself.”

  “Yea, Dad, you too.” He’d stood on the other side of the bars and shifted from one foot to the other. With his dad’s low flashpoint, he didn’t hold out much hope for early parole.

  Tanner would be nearly forty the next time his father was a free man.

  Over the next few days, he visited him in the county jail every day before he was transferred to a facility near San Marcos.

  “I’d say you could go to my half-sister’s, but she wouldn’t take you in.” He stared out the tiny window to the outside world. “The woman never has had a maternal instinct. Did you know she tried to abort her own child just because she could see in an ultrasound that the baby had a birth defect? The drug they gave her at the abortion clinic didn’t work, so when the baby was born, she left it at my stepmothers and never looked back.”

  “No, I didn’t know.” Tanner knew very little about his father’s family. Hell, he didn’t even know his own mother’s name. “That’s terrible.” She’d left home when he was less than a month old and his father refused to talk about her. At all. Anytime Tanner had asked, his father clammed up.

  “Anyway, there’s a little money in the bank. Maybe you can get more hours down at Austin Rock.” His father reached through the bars and patted him on the arm. “You’re a big kid, you’ll be all right.”

  “Actually, I’ve got a job offer. I’m going to be working and staying at Tebow, where Uncle Lin used to work.”

  Instead of looking pleased, his father snarled. “Lin always thought he was better than the rest of us. All that cowboy shit.” He let his eyes travel up and down, giving him a scathing look. “Wearing boots and a hat does not make a man.”

  No, but having pride and a sense of self-worth did. “I don’t want to argue with you. I’ll be closer to you in Kerrville than I would be in Austin.”

  “So, you want to be like that asshole in a cowboy hat?”

  “Dad, I want a better life than I’ve got now. Is that wrong?”

  Their conversation ended there because the guard told him their time was up. He left the jail and walked out to his father’s truck. It was practically held together with duct tape and bailing wire. After climbing in, and starting the vehicle after three tries, he headed back to the apartment to collect his things. His new life was about to begin. As much as he hated what happened to Raymond, he had to make the best of it and go on. Flipping on the radio, he was shocked to hear a familiar voice filling the cab of the truck.

  Desiree.

  His heart jumped up in his throat and he almost ran off the road when he heard what she was saying.

  “This song is about my own White Knight. I don’t know your name or anything about you. I’d love to see you again, to thank you properly for saving me. Contact me, please. This song is for you.”

  When the words of White Knight came over the air, Tanner couldn’t believe it. She was describing what happened to her the night she was attacked, the night he’d come to her rescue. His mind clamored. His body wanted to do as she asked, but his brain balked. He guessed she wouldn’t be hard to find, her record label would forward any fan mail. But did she mean it? And if he did contact her, how would she feel to find out her hero was just a kid whose father had been jailed for killing a cop?

  The publicity he’d generate for her would be a nightmare.

  As her beautiful voice faded into nothingness at the end of the song, Tanner gripped the steering wheel hard enough to make his fingers go white. It was time to turn loose of a dream that would never come true. Desiree Holt was his fantasy, but she’d never be a part of his real world. Slowly, he reached over and turned off the radio.

  Time to let go of dreams and grow up.

  –CHAPTER TWO–

  Ten Years Later…

  “Give me that caulk gun, Barron.” Bowie Travis grabbed the tool and began to fill in the gap around the window. “How do you like living out here in the sticks?”

  “With your and Jacob’s help, we built this house from the ground up, Malone. It’s peaceful out here in the woods and right now, that’s what I need.” Tanner pulled off his hat and wiped his brow. “Damn, it’s almost Christmas and hot as hell.”

  “We’ve got a cold front supposed to come in this weekend.” Jacob added, hanging a hammer on his tool belt. “The winterizing we’ve done today should keep you warm.”

  Bowie sat back on his heels, surveying his partner. “Tanner, you cannot blame yourself for what happened. You did the best you could. You scoured the area where the parents told us the toddler was last seen. I still have no explanation how he wandered ten miles. It doesn’t even seem possible.”

  Tanner sat down on the edge of his porch, leaning over and staring at the ground. “There wasn’t a sign of him, Bowie. No tracks, no trace evidence – nothing.”

  “Maybe he didn’t just wander off, maybe he was abducted.” Jacob sat down beside Tanner. He’d known the young man for almost a decade and there was none finer. Bowie Travis was Jacob’s best friend, but they both thought the world of Tanner Barron.

  “I considered that,” Tanner sighed. “I’ve been doing some research on the number of people who’ve gone missing in the national parks. Some of the cases resemble Jeremy’s. There’s no easy explanation to explain what happened to any of them. I just don’t know if I can go back out there. Maybe I should leave this to people with better skills than I have.”

  Bowie Travis stood and got right in Tanner’s face. “There is no one better than you. You’ve saved my life twice and I trust no man more than I trust you.”

  Tanner thanked his friend. “I appreciate that.” He’d been Bowie’s tracking partner for the last few years. They’d performed search and rescues all over the United States and even some foreign countries.

  “We can’t save them all, we’ll never be able to do that,” Bowie assured him. Tanner heard Bowie’s words, his heart just wasn’t ready to accept it.

  “I like what you’ve done with this place.” Jacob looked around. “I’ve always loved these pine trees. You drive for miles through the hill country, full of limestone cliffs, scrub oaks and cedars, then out of nowhere you run into this stretch of pines. It’s like you stepped through a portal to another world.”

  “That’s why they call these the ‘lost pines’. For miles and miles around, there’s nothing but rolling hills and plains. Then, without warning, you come upon this small, towering forest. It’s like a hideaway. I feel grounded here,” Tanner said.

  “I can understand.” Bowie agreed. “How do they think these Loblolly pines got here?”

  “Botanists say they were moved here long ago by a glacier.” Tanner smiled mysteriously. “Others tell a legend of a Native American girl, brought here as a new bride from East Texas. Her warrior husband brought pine seedlings so she wouldn’t be so homesick.”

  “I like that explanation better.” Jacob nodded. “Sounds like something I’d do for Jessie.”

  “You spoil Jessie like Bowie Travis spoils Cassie.” Tanner spoke with a bit of envy in his tone. He hadn’t been lucky enough to find t
he kind of love they enjoyed. Maybe, because he wouldn’t give most women a chance. And it wasn’t because he couldn’t turn loose the image of Desiree in his head. Holding on to that fantasy would’ve been foolish.

  Shaking his head to dispel the impossible dream, he gazed out over the land he loved so well. “Uncle Lin poured his heart into this place. He spent most of his time at Tebow, but he built several cabins here. When he left me this place, I was stunned. I admired the hell of him.” Tanner started picking up their tools. “I’m renting out the cabins. I’ve got a guest coming in tonight. As soon as we finish here, I’m going to go cut some wood to fill the bin before that cool spell you were talking about hits the area.”

  “Need help?” Jacob offered. “I’ve got a couple of more hours to kill before Jessie returns from Christmas shopping with Avery.”

  “Nah, I’ve got it. The work keeps my mind off things.” Tanner explained.

  “Hand me a nail so I can close this tube of caulk.” Bowie requested as he wiped his hands on a rag.

  “How old are you, gramps?” Tanner teased. “You don’t stick a nail down in the hole anymore, you use one of these.” He handed Bowie a tiny red saving cap.

  “What in the world?” Bowie held the tiny contraption in his hand. Placing it over the end of the caulk tube, he rolled down the sides in wonder. “It’s like a little condom, a tiny red rubber! It even has an itty bitty reservoir tip.”

  Jacob busted out laughing while Tanner shook his head. “You have such a dirty mind, Malone.”

  “Shoot.” Bowie just kept on touching the small red saving cap. “I think you’re pulling my leg. Is this one of your rubbers? I mean, you’re young. You’ve still got some growing to do.”

  Jacob roared and Tanner slapped his hand over his crotch. “I’ll have you know that I have to wear an extra-large.”

  “Yea, yea, we all do.” Bowie placed the caulk in the tool box. “How’s little B. T.? I bet he’s growing like a weed,” Bowie spoke to Jacob, unable to keep the pride out of his voice when he spoke of his namesake.