by Julie Benson
And that doesn’t include you.
She bit her lip to hold her emotions in check. She refused to cry. Not now. Not here in front of him. She’d hold it together if it killed her. Then, when she was home, alone she’d fall apart.
She stared at him and hoped he would say that he wanted this dream, that he wanted her, more than anything else.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
The heart she’d tried so hard to protect shriveled inside her. “It is.”
She stood, walked around the table and kissed him. Her lips moved over his, and she tried to file away the memory of his touch. She pulled away and gazed at the man who’d turned her life upside down, who’d taught her to love again. “I wish you nothing but the best.” Then she turned and walked out of the bar knowing she loved him more than she’d ever imagined possible, and she had to let him go.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY back in New York, back on the Philharmonic stage, Jamie placed his violin in its case. The audition couldn’t have gone better. Maybe because he’d temporarily lost his talent, he valued his ability more now that it had returned. The complacency he’d felt when he’d been with the Philharmonic before he’d hurt his hand had disappeared. The joy and sense of purpose he’d felt the first time he played with a major symphony had filled him again. He’d experienced the wonder of classical music, its beauty.
“I’d say if your hand isn’t one hundred percent, it’s as close as it can get,” Malcolm said. “Welcome back, Jamie.”
He waited for the elation to wash over him, but instead he felt torn. How could he enjoy playing both the classics and country music equally? That made no sense. Shouldn’t one tug at his soul more? Shouldn’t he know what he was meant to do with his life?
But all he knew was nothing made much sense since Emma had walked away from him at Halligan’s. He thought they had something together, the kind of connection that didn’t come along every day. But she’d walked away as if he’d been nothing more than a quick fling to pass the time.
That hurt, because to him, she’d been so much more.
He was in love with Emma Donovan.
Talk about a complication. The good news was Malcolm thought he’d improved enough to return to the Philharmonic, the bad news was Jamie no longer had any idea if that was what he wanted. “Can I give you my answer tomorrow?”
“I’ll give you until noon, but I can’t wait any longer than that.”
Jamie thanked Malcolm and promised he’d have his answer first thing in the morning. After he left Avery Fisher Hall, the noise and chaos almost assaulted him. People from the nearby subway stop zoomed past him while he stood there trying to figure out where to go. Taxis honked at everyone and everything. The familiar sites of Juilliard, the Met and the other performing arts buildings reminded him of who he used to be.
Who he used to be? He had changed. Things that had once seemed to suit him so well now didn’t. Like his apartment. Instead of being a home, the place felt sterile and empty without Emma and Trooper. Right now that was the last place he wanted to be. He thought about his parents. He hadn’t seen them in a while. Now their logical approach to sorting out a problem sounded like exactly what he needed.
* * *
LATER THAT EVENING, when Jamie walked into the living room with his dad, his mother’s gaze scanned him from head to toe from her spot on the couch. “What’s wrong?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Are you telling me there isn’t something bothering you?” She had that mom look on her face, and he knew there wasn’t any point in lying. After he sank into the chair next to her, he explained about Malcolm’s call, the audition and his uncertainty. “I have what I wanted. My hand’s better, and I can return to the symphony. How come I’m not sure that’s what I want?”
“If one of your sisters asked that question, I’d tell her to make a list of the pros and cons of each choice, but you’re different,” his mother said. “That solution won’t work for you.”
“Has that been hard on you? Me being so different from Kate and Rachel? From you and Dad?”
His dad’s brows knit together in confusion. “What makes you ask a question like that? You weren’t any tougher to raise than your sisters. Kids are hard work, no matter who they’re like.”
“Being different isn’t a bad thing, Jamie.” His mother reached out to him and placed her hand on his arm. “Now, about not knowing what you want. I suspect that’s not true. You’re just not sure whether to follow your head or your heart.”
“I’m glad one of us is sure. Playing for Malcolm again showed me how much classical music still means to me, but there’s something about country music and playing with Emma that calls to me, too.” He smiled, thinking of their time together. “She’s got so much enthusiasm. It’s hard not to get caught up in it. When I’m with her, I don’t know. I can’t describe how I feel.”
“I think you answered your own question,” his dad said.
Since he’d left Colorado, he’d felt this hole inside him. As though part of him was gone. Because he wasn’t with Emma.
How could he give her up? At the end of his life what would matter more, his career or Emma?
Without a doubt, Emma.
“I love Emma, and I want to be with her, but it’s complicated. Her life’s in Colorado or Nashville because she wants a career in country music.”
“What’s this really about?” His mother stared at him with an all-knowing gaze.
What could he say? That he was scared to walk away from everything he’d worked for and basically start over. That he worried they’d resent him for tossing away the education they’d scrimped and saved to pay for. That he feared hurting them by choosing to move to where his birth mother was from?
“Are you afraid we won’t approve? That we’ll think less of you if you sing in a country band rather than play with a symphony?” his dad asked.
I’m more concerned you’ll feel like I’m throwing you aside for Mick, and my link with my birth family. Not able to bring himself to say the words and hurt the parents he loved so much, he said, “You worked so hard to put me through Juilliard, and I’d be giving all that up.”
“Nothing’s ever wasted, especially education or experience.” Compassion and love filled his mother’s gaze. “This is your life. We get to live ours. We don’t get to live yours, too.”
He’d once told Emma he didn’t beat around the bush on issues because all it did was cause confusion and hurt feelings, but that was exactly what he was doing now. “I don’t want you two feeling like I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me. That I’m choosing Mick over you.”
“So we’ve finally gotten to the heart of the problem,” his dad said.
“This isn’t an either-or situation. Do you remember the song about the penny that Mrs. Hall taught you in elementary school?” his mom asked.
Jamie smiled at the memory. He used to drive his sisters nuts singing that song a hundred times a day when he’d first learned it. “I remember something about love being like a penny, and how if a person held it too tight, he’d lose it, but if he spent it, he ended up having more.”
“Just because we love your sisters doesn’t mean there’s less love for you. We’ve got room in our hearts for the three of you, whoever you marry and any children you have,” she continued. “We know you having a relationship with Mick or living in Colorado doesn’t mean you love us any less.”
Such a simple concept. Why hadn’t he realized that? Now he felt kind of stupid.
“If I haven’t screwed it up by leaving.”
“There’s only one way to know.”
“She didn’t seem too upset when I left.” He told his parents about the last time he’d talked to Emma.
“Of course she told you to go,”
his mother said, a look of confusion on her face as if she couldn’t see how he’d failed to realize that. “She did that because she cares about you. Think about it. What would you have done if the situation had been reversed?”
He’d have told Emma to go. In fact, he’d have said whatever he had to in order to make her leave. He’d have wanted her to succeed, to follow her dreams. Is that what Emma had done?
Now he really felt like an idiot. Hopefully it wasn’t too late to make things right with her.
* * *
AT THE STATE FAIR competition, the longer Emma waited backstage the more her nerves kicked in. At least she’d had good news about Andrew. They’d found out earlier today that her brother Brandon was a match. Now all she had to pray for was that once Andrew had the transplant, his body would accept his uncle’s bone marrow.
Today’s performance wasn’t anything compared to that in terms of life events, but she couldn’t help but think how things would be so different if Jamie were here sharing this with her. Without him the band seemed flat. He had a way of bringing out the best in all of them, but especially in her and not just musically. She wanted to share every day with him. Life’s blessings and trials.
She had to quit thinking about him.
Like that would happen anytime soon.
“I can’t let you backstage without a badge,” Emma heard a security guard off to her right say.
“It never fails that someone thinks they can con security into letting him sneak in and grab an autograph,” Luke said, pulling her away from her pity party.
“Come on, man. Cut me a break.”
Emma froze. She recognized that voice. She heard it every night in her dreams. Only then, when they talked about him leaving, he got down on one knee, told her how much he loved her and said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But Jamie couldn’t be here. He was in New York. She’d gone from pity party to completely insane and hearing voices in the blink of an eye. That was the only explanation for what she’d just heard.
“Hot dog. Look what the cat dragged in,” Luke said, pointing to his left, his voice full of excitement.
Footsteps sounded around her. Through her haze she noticed Grayson and Luke move past her, but she still couldn’t bring herself to look.
“He’s with us. You can let him through,” Grayson said.
What were the odds that all three of them were having a group hallucination?
If they were, she didn’t want to come out of it. Let me imagine Jamie’s here a little longer. At least until he takes me in his arms and kisses me. Then I’ll come back to reality.
But she had to know. She turned and there was Jamie. His cowboy boots clicked on the cement as he strode toward her, dressed in that same brown plaid shirt he’d worn at the fund-raiser concert. The one that brought out the color of his eyes.
Her heart swelled. All she could think of was the line from How the Grinch Stole Christmas! about how the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes one day.
He stopped in front of her. His index finger flicked the brim of his cowboy hat farther off his forehead. She really should say something, but the words wouldn’t form in her head. He’d come back.
“I hear you’re looking for a fiddle player.”
She reached out and poked him in the chest to make sure he really was here.
“That’s an odd response.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
“In the flesh.” Then he grinned in that way that made her heart do backflips.
“Not exactly in the flesh.”
“We’ll see about that later. Now, about that job?”
She leaned back on her heels and eyed him critically. “What experience do you have?”
“Not much with a country band. I was with the Philharmonic, but I quit. I took a long hard look at what I want out of life and that isn’t it.” Jamie placed his fiddle case on the ground at his feet and clasped her hands in his. “I’m sorry I put you through this. For a while I wondered if I’d latched on to your dream because it was easier than sorting out my own. But I want music in my life, and it doesn’t matter what kind because I want you more. I love you, Emma Donovan.”
He loved her enough to come back. Tears blurred her vision. “I love you, too. So much. I can’t believe you’re here.”
Jamie thought of when he’d first arrived in Estes Park and how his grandfather had suggested he play country music. The old man had been right after all. Jamie couldn’t help but laugh now.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking about when I first arrived and how Mick suggested I join a country band.”
“That’s funny because my grandfather suggested I ask you to play with us before you ever got to town. Do you think they planned all this? That they were playing matchmakers?”
“If they were, we’re going to be hearing ‘I told you so’ forever, but I can live with that.” He squeezed her hand. “You still haven’t said if I’ve got the job or not.”
She smiled, her heart filled with love and hope for the future. “Cowboy, you can have anything you want.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HER FOREVER COWBOY by Marie Ferrarella
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Prologue
No one looking at her would have suspected that her heart had just been broken, or even bruised. She made sure of that.
Dr. Alisha Cordell prided herself on being self-contained. She wasn’t the type to let people in on her private hurt. Nor would she allow herself to shed tears. At least, not publicly.
Publicly, if she included the half-naked hospital administrator closeted with her fiancé as being part of the general public, the only display of emotion anyone had witnessed was when she’d thrown her three-carat diamond engagement ring at Dr. Pierce Belkin—a neurosurgeon who was much in demand, not always by his patients—and the aforementioned hospital administrator.
A flash of fury had accompanied the flying ring as well as a single seething word that wasn’t part of her usual vocabulary.
It hadn’t even been the sight of the ruggedly handsome Mayflower descendant making love to the vapid, overly endowed blonde that had made Alisha throw her ring at him. It was Pierce’s complete lack of contrition coupled with the snide remark—“Oh, grow up, Alisha. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m going to be your slave”—that made her lose her composure and had her throwing the ring and then telling Pierce to take up residence in a much hotter location.
The story was already making the rounds by the time she’d taken the elevator from the fifth floor down to the first. Not that she cared about the gossip. She’d never been the kind to pay any attention to whispers. But what convinced Alisha that she needed a change of scenery was the fact that although the hospital was far from a small place, there was no doubt in her mind that she wouldn’t be able to avoid running into Pierce or any of what she had come to realize were his numerous conquests.
Good at shutting out things that irritated her, Alisha still knew that she would be able to hold her head high for only so long before the situation would become intolerable to
her.
There was no way around it. She needed to find somewhere else to be. Preferably somewhere far away.
As a rule, Alisha didn’t make friends easily. Dedicated, driven, she’d ignored socializing to focus on becoming the best all-around general surgeon she could be. In part—a large part—to honor her father.
A giant of a man, Dr. William Cordell had been a family-practice physician. Alisha was his only child, and she had adored him. A nature enthusiast, he would go camping whenever he could get away. His wife hadn’t shared his interest in the great outdoors, but Alisha had, and he had taken her with him, teaching her all the fundamentals of survival.
Cancer had abruptly ended her father’s life when she was just fourteen. She’d never been close to her mother, and the two had drifted even further apart after that. Alisha closed herself off emotionally and worked on achieving her goal to the exclusion of almost everything else. It kept her father’s memory alive for her.
The people she’d been thrown in with at college studied hard but partied harder. She remained on the outside fringes of that world. Looking back, she realized that the only reason Pierce had pursued her with such vigor was because she was the only female who had ever said no to him. He viewed her as a challenge as well as a budding gifted surgeon. In time, he thought of her as a worthy extension of himself, a professional asset.
Added to that, his parents liked her, and his grandmother, a very wealthy woman, was crazy about her. She’d referred to her as her grandson’s saving grace and wholeheartedly looked forward to their wedding.
Secretly missing the comforting security of a home life, Alisha had accepted Pierce’s proposal despite the uneasiness she experienced when she’d actually uttered the word yes. Her uneasiness refused to completely go away even as the weeks went by.