Cowboy in the Making

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Cowboy in the Making Page 15

by Julie Benson


  “You’re doing all you can.”

  “But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m not a match?”

  “We’ll deal with that if it happens.”

  His words stunned him. We? When had he and Emma become a we? The thought left him weak.

  Needing to lighten the mood for her sake as well as his, he said, “I’ve been thinking about what to wear to the concert.”

  She tilted her head and eyed him. “This from the guy who gave me a hard time when I brought up the subject at Dick’s Tavern?”

  “Yup. I hadn’t thought about it then, but now I have. I’ve got a black T-shirt, but I don’t have a cowboy hat or boots.” What if the people who purchased tickets pegged him as a smug city boy trying to be something he wasn’t?

  “Go to Rocky Mountain Outfitters. That’s where my brothers shop. That is, when they hit the point where they’ve either got to wash clothes or buy new ones.”

  “I could use your opinion,” he said as they walked through the office building toward the parking lot.

  “Whatever you pick out will be fine.”

  Was she purposely making this tough? Weren’t women supposed to be good at picking up on hints? He shoved his hands in his front pockets and fingered the coins there. “I’m nervous about the concert.”

  “You’ve been onstage before. It’s no different than the night we sang at Mick’s place.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. People are paying to hear me this time. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

  “What do your clothes have to do with that?”

  “You really are slow on the uptake today.”

  “You’d better be nice. It sounds like you’re trying to work up to asking me for a favor, and those who don’t ask nicely get bubkes.”

  Now he understood. This was payback for him playing dumb when she’d hinted at him joining the band. “I’m classically trained. Everyone was great at Halligan’s when I sang, but that was my grandfather’s bar. A paying audience might not be as forgiving. I live in New York City. I’m a city boy, as you’re so fond of reminding me. I don’t want to look like I’m playing dress-up.”

  “Come on, then. We’ll go shopping.”

  * * *

  EMMA KNEW JAMIE wanted her help the minute he mentioned he was thinking about what he should wear for the concert, but couldn’t resist giving him a hard time. Then he’d gone and ruined her fun by telling her the truth and sharing another confidence. Damn him.

  I’m nervous about the concert. I don’t want to look like I’m playing dress-up.

  His honesty reached inside her, drawing her in like nothing else could. She thought about what he’d shared with her in the barn, how he sometimes felt on the outside looking in with his family. That’s what this was about. He wanted to belong.

  The man really should take a good long look in the mirror sometime. With his voice and looks, women wouldn’t notice, much less care, what he wore onstage. But she hadn’t told him that, so instead here she was shopping with him.

  Once they stood inside Rocky Mountain Outfitters, Jamie picked up a leather belt with rhinestones, silver studs and a huge shiny buckle. “When we were at Dick’s, you said there were different country singer styles. You never mentioned country bling. The lights bouncing off this would be great. It would make me stand out onstage. Maybe this is the look I should go for.”

  “I knew you were one of those guys who needed the spotlight to be on him. This only proves it,” she teased. But didn’t people use joking as a nonthreatening way of telling the truth? “The next thing we know, you’ll be asking for a spot dedicated just for you.”

  “If that’s what I wanted, I’d have asked you about this.” He shook his head and picked up a belt with an even gaudier buckle. “But since you brought up the lighting issue—”

  “I dare you to wear that. To even try it on.”

  “You sure you want to do that?” His stubborn I’m-not-backing-down gaze drilled through her.

  Who knew that he could produce the look on demand when he clearly wasn’t annoyed, and only teasing her? She shuddered with exaggerated horror. “Oops. I forgot how stubborn you can be. I take back the dare.”

  “That’s right. You better, woman.”

  “Can I help either of you find anything or maybe referee?” Emma recognized the voice, and froze.

  She’d hoped Harper wouldn’t be in. Leave it to the older woman to pop up and spoil all the fun.

  Harper, dressed in jeans and the same brown-and-turquoise paisley Western shirt as displayed in the front window, shook her head. “I never knew what my grandmother meant when she said one couple’s fighting is another one’s dancing until now. You two are having way too much fun trying to get under each other’s skin.”

  “Jamie, this is Harper Stinson, Rocky Mountain Outfitter’s owner and board president of the Estes Park animal shelter.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m here to find something to wear for the shelter concert. Emma told me she’d help, but all she’s doing so far is giving me a hard time.”

  “Don’t blame me when you haven’t been taking this seriously. I’m not the one who’ll be performing in athletic shoes.”

  “Don’t start any more of that dancing, you two,” Harper said. “The boots are this way. I’ll help you out because no way am I letting you go onstage for the shelter fund-raiser in tennis shoes, and we’ll do something about a shirt while we’re at it.” She nodded toward Emma. “Between the two of us, we’ll take care of things.”

  * * *

  AFTER THE NIGHT spent shopping with Jamie, Emma decided she was done fighting what she felt for him. She was tired of being strong, focused and directed all the time. More important, she was tired of being alone.

  Not that she thought she’d found her soul mate or anything crazy like that. She believed the soul mate thing was as real as Bigfoot—but Jamie made her laugh, something she hadn’t done enough of since her mother had gotten sick, and for right now, that was enough. No harm. No foul. That became her motto.

  From that night on, she and Jamie went out to eat after rehearsals and talked about whatever came to mind. Music, their childhoods. She learned he’d secretly listened to country music in high school. Sometimes they worked on music and had even started writing some songs together. A couple of times they went hiking or horseback riding. Nothing special, and yet their time together fed her soul.

  Now today Emma stood in the parking lot at Stanley Park unloading tables and chairs from the shelter van for the Pet Walk when Jamie pulled up. He’d been such a rock for her when she’d found out about Andrew. It would have been so easy to fall apart, and she probably would have if it hadn’t been for Jamie.

  He got out of Mick’s battered Chevy truck, looking way too good for this early in the morning, wearing one of the shirts he’d bought when they’d gone shopping. As it happened, her favorite, the tan-and-brown plaid that matched his coffee-colored eyes.

  Before, when he was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, he’d looked... She searched for the right word. Restrained. Reserved. Almost as if he was apart from everyone and everything around him. Now a relaxed air surrounded him. He appeared at ease. Almost as if she was seeing the inner man for the first time. He looked as though he’d been here his entire life. As though he belonged.

  She nodded toward his feet. “Good-looking boots.”

  “Do I pass muster?”

  “You’ll do.”

  Anytime. Anywhere.

  The image of him kissing her in Mick’s living room flashed in her mind, sending her already racing pulse even higher. What would’ve happened if she hadn’t left? Clothes would have gone flying and they’d have been all over each other, more than likely. Last week the idea had left her shaking in her boots, but this week the idea sounded a whole lot
better.

  What was she thinking? She needed to snap out of it. Abstinence was rotting her brain. That was the problem.

  “It’s too bad I’m working today. I bet Trooper would love being out here,” Jamie said.

  She grinned. “I’ve seen that look before. Has he found a forever home?”

  “I don’t know if Mick will want to adopt him or not.”

  “That wasn’t who I was talking about. What about you?”

  “My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

  The boulder came out of nowhere and rolled right over her. How could she have forgotten the fact that Jamie being here was only temporary? Luke’s words flashed in her mind. Maybe he’ll like playing with us so much he’ll change his religion, so to speak, and decide to stick around.

  See what happens when you have expectations? When you start hoping?

  She reached for a stack of chairs, but he brushed her hand aside. “You need all these unloaded?”

  “You offering to help?” When he nodded, she pointed toward the tent that had been set up at the park entrance. If nothing else, she’d be grateful for the free labor today, which meant fewer aching muscles tomorrow for her. “They go at the registration desk.”

  “I’m all yours until nine.”

  If only that were true.

  Where had that thought come from and how could she get rid of it? Lighten things up and focus on work. That would do the trick. “All right, assistant. Let’s get these tables and chairs set up.”

  * * *

  “YOU AND EMMA have been spending a lot of time together,” Mick said a couple of hours later when Jamie arrived at the pavilion to help set up the food booth.

  “That’s about as smooth a move into a conversation as a gravel road.” Since she’d found out about her son, their relationship had changed, but the hell if he knew what it had changed into. While most nights they grabbed a bite to eat after rehearsals, he couldn’t really say they were dating, and yet, they were more than friends because whenever they were together the air crackled with sexual tension. “With getting ready for today and the state fair coming up, we’ve been rehearsing a lot.”

  Mick grinned like a matchmaking momma. “You sure that’s all it’s been? Rehearsing? The rumor mill says you two have been out almost every night. That sounds like dating to me.”

  “You’re getting as bad as an old woman.”

  Jamie reached into a box and started unpacking serving utensils and packets of plastic silverware. He thought about what Emma had told him about her baby’s father. He made it clear he wanted nothing to do with fatherhood. His curiosity ate at him, but he hadn’t asked Emma for fear of opening up old wounds. “Since you brought up the dating subject, Emma says she doesn’t get involved with musicians. Is that because of her baby’s father?”

  “That Tucker Mathis always was an ass and never was good enough for Emma.”

  “Tucker Mathis? As in, part of one of the hottest acts in country music right now?” That’s who’d fathered Emma’s child?

  Mick nodded. “Gene told me he was messin’ around on Emma when they were living together in Nashville. She was working two jobs to support them while he was working on making ‘industry connections.’ Well, he made ’em, all right, with anything in a skirt. Then, when Emma told him she was pregnant, he left her and moved in with that blonde-in-a-bottle he sings with now.”

  So many things made sense now. Tucker had gone on to live the dream while Emma had gone home to a family embarrassed by her pregnancy and had struggled with the decision of whether or not to give her child up for adoption.

  Jamie’s thoughts turned to what Emma had said about her last band. Turned out they’d already replaced me. They just forgot to tell me.

  He’d bet she’d been dating someone in that band when she’d come back to Estes Park to take care of her mother. There had been too much pain in her eyes when she’d told him about that. The betrayal had been deeper. More personal.

  “Gene also said the song that got Tucker his first record deal was one he and Emma wrote together. Though, of course, he claims different.”

  “Why didn’t she take him to court?” What a stupid question. Cases like that cost money, were emotionally exhausting and lengthy. After what she’d gone through, how could Emma have dealt with taking Tucker to court? “Never mind. I know the reasons.”

  No wonder she’d sworn off musicians.

  “Hey, Mick, you open for business?” a fortysomething man with a German shepherd on a leash called out from across the walkway.

  “Sure are. Come on over, Sam,” Mick replied.

  “Good, because I’m so hungry those dog biscuits at the Puppy Palace booth are starting to look good. Give me one of your brats instead.” Sam dug out his wallet, found a five and handed the bill to Jamie. “It’s good to see you here helping Mick. A man his age should have family around.”

  “I’m glad to do it.”

  “I got my ticket for the concert,” Henry said as he joined the growing line. “When the band makes it big, I expect you and Emma to give me credit since your changing careers and joining Maroon Peak Pass was my idea.” The older man scratched his chin. “In fact, I think coming up with the suggestion entitles me to free CDs for life. Don’t you?”

  Changing careers. Jamie froze. When had he done that? He hadn’t as far as he knew. Had he latched on to Emma’s dream to fill the void in his life and to avoid having to face deciding about his future?

  “I think you’re putting the cart in front of the horse there, Henry. All I’m doing is helping the band out. We’re just testing the waters.” Isn’t that what he and Emma had said? “It may not work out. People may not accept a classically trained violinist playing country music.”

  Or it could be everyone would think he stunk. Could be he’d choke or hate playing more popular music. Great time to remember that he could fall flat on his face. That’ll give him confidence to walk onto the stage.

  “I love that Darius Rucker. Then I come to learn he was in some Top 40 band years ago,” the middle aged woman waiting behind Henry said. “It was some band with a funny fish name. Anyway, country music fans have accepted him. If they can do that, they can accept a classical musician.”

  “Martha’s right,” Henry said. “People will sense what’s in your heart, and if the music speaks to you, you’ll be fine. ’Course you’ve got to be good, but from what I heard at Halligan’s that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I can’t wait to hear you two sing,” Martha said. “I’ve got my ticket.”

  Jamie handed Henry his change. “Good, I could use some friendly faces in the crowd.”

  For the next couple of hours, Jamie served up brats, hot dogs and chips while he chatted with people, most of whom said they planned on attending the concert. He wasn’t sure he was ready for half the town to be there. He wondered if it was too late to back out. Then he chuckled. As if Emma would let him do that.

  Emma. He’d be fine as long as she was there.

  After they finished serving lunch, as they were cleaning and packing up, Mick said, “I’ve been thinking about the future a lot lately. One day the ranch and the restaurant will be yours.”

  “Unless there’s something you haven’t told me, there’s no reason to discuss this,” Jamie said, trying to keep his voice light despite the tightness in his chest at the thought of losing the grandfather it had taken him so long to find.

  “Well, we’re gonna talk about it. All I ask is that if you don’t want to run the restaurant, you find a reliable manager or sell it to someone who realizes what the place means to this community. Now, the ranch is a different story. If you don’t want to live there, at least hang on to it as a place you can come to when you need to get away.”

  “What about Kimberly?”

  “While I love
my daughter because she’s part of me, we haven’t had much of a relationship in quite a few years. I consider myself lucky if she sends me a Christmas card. You’re family, Jamie, and to you the ranch and the restaurant won’t just be dollar signs. You could have a good life here, you know.”

  Jamie nodded, not able to trust his voice. He felt a peace here he’d never found anywhere else, and then there was Emma. She’d become so important to him since he’d arrived in Estes Park, but how could he decide about their relationship when he couldn’t figure out what to do with his life? Emma deserved better than a guy who was drifting through life without much purpose.

  Since he’d arrived in Colorado he’d settled into a routine working at Halligan’s and around the ranch. He did his hand exercises. He rehearsed with the band, spent time with Emma and when he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her. The one thing he hadn’t done was consider the future.

  Just because he was having fun here and enjoyed the challenge of playing country music didn’t mean he could have a career. How could he let go of everything he’d worked for? Choosing to leave the Philharmonic would have been one thing, but now he felt if he didn’t give it his best shot to get back there, he would be settling.

  But hadn’t he been telling Emma there was more to life than a career? There was having someone you connected with on that intimate level, and not just physically. There was being part of a community.

  As Jamie set out in search of Emma, he was amazed at the size of Pet Walk and the number of booths with vendors hawking everything from pet toys to pet cemetery plots and headstones. Then there were rescue groups, photographers, big-name grocery stores and insurance agents with booths. He’d known dogs and cats were big business, but not like this.

  Someone called his name and he turned to see Avery and a tall man walking toward him, a scraggly long-haired dog on a leash beside him.

  “So you’re the new guy everyone’s talking about. I’ve got to say, I feel your pain,” Avery’s husband said after he introduced himself. “Until you came along I was the favorite target.” Then Reed explained how he’d grown up in Estes Park, but went to school at Stanford and lived in California until not too long ago.

 

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