Cowboy Sing Me Home

by Harris, Kim Hunt

He decided right then that he would walk to the ends of the earth to see another one of those smiles.

  They worked their way together through the chords a few times until they felt comfortable, then he said, “Okay, let’s do the vocals this time.”

  Their voices blended in a tone at once so pure and intense, the hairs stood on the back of Luke’s neck. He wanted to look at her, wanted to see if she felt it, too, but at the same time was afraid to. If she still wore that same bland expression, the moment would be ruined.

  But he looked anyway. He had to. Her lips were still curved in a soft smile and her eyes held a dreamy, far away cast that had his mouth going dry and his throat tightening. He swallowed hard when she turned that gaze on him.

  They finished the song, and she cocked her head. “I’m enjoying this a lot more than I thought I would.”

  She must have spoken before she thought, because as soon as the words were out, he could see her mentally backpedaling. She shifted in her seat and began flipping through the hymnal again, intent on not looking at him. “I mean, the words are all baloney, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “But it’s been a while since I’ve played with someone, just acoustics, without the amps and backup band and all the trimmings.”

  “Maybe we should work it into the show at Tumbleweeds. A few ballads with just you and me, one spotlight on a dark stage. You know, the dramatic touch. Give the rest of the band a longer break.”

  She thought for a moment and gave him another slight smile. “That’s a good idea. Be thinking of some songs that would work.”

  She reached for her guitar case and he realized that was the note they were going to part on. “So, we’re still on for tonight?”

  “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? The Jubilee starts at 6 o’clock, right? I’ll be there at 5:30.”

  “I’m not talking about the Jubilee. I’m talking about us.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure, we’re still on.” She frowned and tilted her head. When she spoke again, her voice was a little softer. “Listen, Sport… you aren’t – I mean, you have done this before, right?”

  “I’ve played in our church before, but never in a revival – I mean, Jubilee.”

  “I’m not talking about the Jubilee.” She looked pointedly at him as she repeated his own words. “I’m talking about us. You’re not a… you know…”

  “Not a – no!” She thought he was a virgin! Shocked, he jerked his head back. “Good Lord, no. Why – what makes you – no!”

  She shrugged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that you’re kind of acting like this is such a big deal, all nervous, and so I just wondered…”

  “And you’re acting like it’s no big deal at all. Like you meet a different guy in every town.” He realized as soon as he said it that this was what bothered him. He felt something for her, something between them – he wasn’t even sure what, and he was not very eager to figure it out – but it was becoming painfully apparent that whatever it was, it was one-sided.

  “And what if I do, Ace? What if I do have a different guy in every town? Whose business is that, besides mine?”

  “It’s not mine, I know, but –”

  “Look.” Her mouth hardened and her eyes flashed. “I told you Tuesday night, if you want a good little Aloma County girl, go get one. If you want me, you’re going to take me as I am, and keep in mind that you have no claim.”

  Luke leaned over and kissed her.

  She made a sound of protest, but in the next instant she was kissing him back. Her hands went up to slip through his hair, and her lips parted beneath his. She moaned softly, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He slid into the kiss a little deeper, gently tugging her guitar out of her hands and sliding it up onto the desk beside them. Then he pulled her across the space between them until she sat in his lap, her breath a sigh against his mouth.

  He pulled away and studied her face, both their breaths ragged in the silent room. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

  “There,” he said, when he found his own voice. He slid his hand up her back and felt the quick thud of her heartbeat. “That was the reaction I was looking for. Not ‘what’s the big deal’.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not too late for me to change my mind about tonight, you know.”

  “And it’s not too late for me to change it back.” He kissed her again.

  This time, she was the first to pull away. She pushed against his chest and stood, reaching for her guitar with a shaky hand. “I’m not here to play games with you, Cowboy. If you need someone to stroke your enormous…” She raised her gaze to meet his levelly. “Ego, you’d be a lot better off with just about anyone else.”

  “I’ve already figured that out.” He stood and watched as she packed her things neatly away, saw her get her balance back. He was on the verge of pushing too far, he knew, if he hadn’t already. But he would do it again, if that was what it took to rock her.

  She turned to face him, her features once again composed.

  “Now,” he said. “Are we still on for tonight?”

  She remained silent for a few seconds, her mouth set, her gaze steady. “We’ll see. I’ll be at the square at 5:30.”

  Dusty tapped the refresh button on her phone. The circle spun slowly, then stopped. She held it higher, then stood and moved slowly around the trailer, trying to get more bars. Finally the file that Alfie, her manager, sent her loaded.

  It was a list of the gigs he had booked for her during the next two months, with a few tentative dates in September and October as well. She nodded at the list of clubs he’d sent, then texted him back:

  “Good. Keep me busy.”

  He had kept her busy. She had three days off after the Rain Fest, and he’d taken it upon himself to schedule a few personal appointments for her to take care of during that time. She frowned at those items on the list. Not because she resented his stepping into her personal life; Alfie was the closest thing to family she had, and the only one who would call a doctor and schedule a physical for her. It warmed her that he made the effort. She made a face at the doctor and photo shoot appointments simply because they were two things she didn’t want to do.

  She sat back down and entered the dates into the calendar on her phone.

  Was it really time to update her publicity photo already? It seemed like she’d just gone through all that a few months ago. She studied her most current photo. It was over four years old, but she hadn’t changed that much since then. She wasn’t in denial about aging; she simply looked the same. Same hairstyle. Same look. Same life.

  Four years. Should a person change in four years?

  Curious, she stood and lifted the seat under her, removing the file that contained her older publicity packets. She compared the one she’d used prior to the most recent one. Except for the change in eye shadow, the two were virtually identical. Same expression, same pose. Had she really not changed in eight years?

  “So what?” she said to the photo. “When you find something that works, you stick with it.

  She took the two pictures into her tiny bathroom and held them up, comparing her reflection to the paper images.

  Okay, she maybe she no longer looked exactly like she had in the first photo. There were a couple of lines now that didn’t used to be. And her face had lost some of that youthful roundness, although she wasn’t particularly sorry to see that gone.

  She studied her eyes in the first photo. They were flat, resentful, brooding. She had no trouble recalling the day that had been taken, as well as the turmoil of emotion she was going through. She’d lost everything and everyone important to her in the span of eighteen months. She’d been scared to death, not sure at all if she could make a go of being a professional musician, not without her parents. But determined to try anyway. Alfie had been behind her, possessing all the confidence in her she lacked in herself, not giving her a chance to dwell on her fears. But in the en
d it wouldn’t have mattered if he were there or not. She went back on the road because she knew then, as she knew now, that it was the only place for her. She didn’t belong in one of the cozy, stable houses that lined the streets and dotted the highways of the country. She belonged on the highway itself. It was a lesson hard learned and not forgotten.

  Her eyes in the next picture had lost their resentment. This one had been taken after four years on the road. It usually didn’t take long for a bar owner to learn she was on her own, and more than a few thought they could get away with stiffing her on her performance fee. It also didn’t take long for them to learn that, after what she’d been through, she had no compunction about throwing a few punches to protect what was rightfully hers.

  She had learned to write songs and work with any musician she came across. Performing wasn’t something she had to learn; she’d been born with that. She was amazed when people said they were nervous in front of crowds, because that was the only time she felt at home.

  She’d learned to take care of herself, to be on her own and live with her own company. She’d also learned that she could navigate the highways of America by herself, could maintain her own vehicle, and manage her own career. Alfie was an indispensable home base, helping her with bookings, collecting her mail, and serving as a friendly ear when she needed to hear a familiar voice. But for the most part her life was one of solitude, even when she was around other people.

  Dusty tried to study the eyes that met hers in the mirror, wondering what the camera would pick up this time. Would it betray her boredom with her life, or the growing and uneasy knowledge that something was missing from it? Something that she wasn’t going to be able to tell herself she didn’t want?

  She thought again of Luke, and the way they’d parted this morning. He thought he was forcing a physical attraction issue, and he was a fool. She had no problem admitting she was attracted to him, physically. The problem came when she realized that he wouldn’t let her stay in that familiar and comfortable solitude when she was around him. He insisted on getting under her skin.

  Dusty made a face at the photos and filed them. But maybe she was on to something. Maybe a new hairstyle would shake things up a little and get her out of her funk. Maybe she needed a change in her own scenery, and then she’d quit feeling like her life was just one dreary, lonely day after another.

  Someone knocked at her door, and she jumped at the unexpected sound. She opened her door to Luke Tanner, wearing a coat and tie.

  “What is that thing around your neck?”

  He ran his hand down the tie and grinned. “Pretty snazzy, huh? I thought I’d come by and see if you want a ride to the Jubilee.”

  “You thought you’d come by and see if I’m still hacked off at you about this morning.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Yes, I am. You’re wearing a coat and tie for the Jubilee?” He hadn’t said anything about a coat and tie. No one had said one word about a coat and tie.

  “Well yes, but you’re not expected to wear one.” He grinned, but stopped when she didn’t return it.

  “I thought this was just going to be some casual thing outside on the square.”

  “It is casual. You don’t have to dress up.”

  “But you’re dressed up.”

  “It’s not like I’m wearing a tux or anything. And besides, I just put it on to impress you. Since you’re still hacked at me and all.” He waited a beat, then said, “And from that look in your eye that says you want to slap me, I’m guessing it’s not working. Can I come in?”

  She glanced at the clock. It was 4:30 already. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. She had known agreeing to play this Jubilee was a bad idea. People like her didn’t hang out with the folks singing hymns and communing with each other’s spirits. “Sorry, no. You can’t come in, and I don’t need a ride.”

  He chewed his lip and studied her face. “You’re not going to pull a no-show on me, are you?”

  “Of course not,” she said crossly, although she’d contemplated that very thing. The only thing that stopped her was the voice of her parents, who’d both drummed into her head the importance of always doing what she said she was going to do.

  He stepped up into the doorway and cupped her cheek. “You’re sweating this Jubilee too much, Dusty. It’s just another gig.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it’s easy for me to say, because it’s true. Which are you madder about? Kissing you this morning, or dragging you into this Jubilee?”

  “Both.”

  He laughed softly, his breath on her lips, then kissed her. “Then I don’t have much to lose, do I?”

  “I’m probably going to get stoned for showing my heathen face at this stupid revival, you know. I know, I know, it’s a Jubilee.” She stepped back and pushed him away. “Get out of here. I have to get ready.”

  “I’m going. But Dusty? Seriously, don’t sweat it. No one cares what you wear. You could show up naked and I’ll bet no one would even notice.”

  She rolled her eyes, but she was laughing when she did so. “If you’re trying to reassure me, you need to work on it a bit. I’ll see you on the square. And don’t be late.” She didn’t want to be sitting around up there by herself.

  Dusty grumbled as she sifted through the clothes in her closet, taking in nothing but wall-to-wall jeans. What did a person wear to a ‘Jubilee,’ anyway? The compartment under her bed held the clothes she considered dress-up. They were for performing and all wrong for tonight, with fringe or rhinestones or something else flashy enough to get her labeled a Jezebel.

  She cussed Luke Tanner out loud, standing in her small bedroom with one hand on her hip. She made a face, said, “What the hell,” grabbed her purse, and headed for Corinne and Toby’s house.

  She wasn’t exactly sure which house was theirs, until she saw Toby tiptoeing down the sidewalk in bare feet, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned. He smiled and waved when he saw Dusty. “Hey, go on in. Corinne’s in the house. Don’t tell her I’m leaving, though, okay? I left my tie down at the office and I have to go get it before she finds out and wants to strangle me with it.”

  He drove off and Dusty knocked on the door, still unsure what lie she was going to tell Corinne.

  She heard a shriek from inside. She cupped her hands and pressed her nose to the glass, but she couldn’t see anything. She opened the door and stuck her head in. “Umm…knock knock?”

  Cade streaked through the room, screaming and laughing hysterically, wearing only unbuttoned pants that sagged around his hips. Corinne rushed by in pursuit, holding a shirt.

  “You get back here, right now!”

  “Umm, hi,” Dusty said, not entirely sure she could be heard over the ruckus.

  Evidently Corinne was accustomed to people just walking in her front door, because she didn’t seem surprised in the least to see Dusty standing there, and smiled and invited her in.

  Dusty smiled back, because for once Corinne looked absolutely awful. Rollers stuck out from her head, and a few were sliding out and hung precariously on strands of hair. She wore a white blouse that sported a fresh-looking blue stain, and despite her smile looked frazzled.

  She’s not perfect, Dusty thought. For some selfish reason, the thought comforted her a great deal. “I was getting ready for Jubilee and found a stain on my dress that the drycleaner missed.” So what if it was a lie? Corinne wasn’t perfect, after all. “I think we’re about the same size. Do you have anything I could borrow?”

  “Sure,” Corinne said breathlessly as she made a grab for Cade on his return pass. “If there’s one thing I have, it’s a lot of clothes. Just ask my husband. Was he outside, by the way?”

  “Mmm, yeah, I think I saw him.”

  “He’d better get in here and help me with this little wild child. After all, it’s his genes that are making him act like this. I was never this uncooperative when I was a kid.” She followed Cade back down the hall.
Dusty wasn’t sure what to do, so after a moment of standing in the middle of the living room by herself, she went after them. Corinne looked in the bathroom, bent over and came up with Cade’s pants. “Great. He got his pants off.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she turned to Dusty conspiratorially. “Next comes the diaper, and believe me, nothing good comes after that. He’s going through a hiding stage. Help me look for him, would you? And try to be quiet. Hearing people call his name just encourages him.”

  Dusty went quietly through the bathroom, opening cabinets and looking behind the shower curtain. She went back into the hall, where she could see Corinne on her bedroom floor, looking under the bed. Dusty went through Cade’s room, but came up empty. She went back into the bathroom, simply because she felt weird going through someone else’s house. She was about to search the bedroom again when the clothes hamper lid flew up and screamed “Boo!”

  Dusty screamed and jumped, which delighted Cade to no end. His little white teeth flashed as he giggled so hard he tipped the hamper over. Dusty caught it before he hit the ground. “Found him,” she called to Corinne. Little cretin. Still giggling – and still diapered, thank goodness – Cade crawled into Dusty’s arms.

  “Great, “ Corinne said. “Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. You hang on to him and I’ll get you some clothes. Dress or slacks and a blouse?”

  Dusty eyed Cade warily. He grinned at her. “You want me to hang onto him?”

  “Yes, please. Just keep him corralled while I get dressed and find something for you. Dress or slacks?”

  Dusty wasn’t altogether sure this was a good idea. She hadn’t bargained on the squirmy body in her arms. While she sifted through ideas of getting out of this gracefully, he put his palms to her cheeks and kissed her, his lips flat against hers, saying “Mmm-wha!” as he did so. He patted her cheeks. “Pitty.”

  “That’s ‘pretty’. See, he’s a little flirt just like his dad. I am in so much trouble with him, I’m afraid. I’ll be right back.” And Corinne was off.

  Dusty straightened and stared at Cade, who looked delightedly back at her, apparently mesmerized by her face. His gaze roamed over it unapologetically, and he put his chubby hands in her hair and patted again. “Pitty.”