“Man, I wish I could have a private—shall we say, conversation—with that asshole in an alley somewhere.”
Regardless of everything, she had to smile again. “I wish you could, too. And I’d want to be there.”
“Unlikely it’s gonna happen, more’s the pity. But let me tell you again—you can count on me. On all of us.”
“There’s something else I should tell you. Something Reba told me. This was about a week before she died. The thing is, she didn’t plan to get pregnant, whatever anyone else might think. She said she really did love all you guys, in different ways. And she knew she messed up. She also told me she had a close friend here, when she was living at the motel, but they lost touch. I guess that would’ve been Shallie.”
Cord nodded. “Thanks for telling me—”
“That I was an accident? Unintentional?”
“You were her daughter, she loved you, and nothing matters more than that.”
“I agree.” Carly bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. “I loved her, too.”
“Should I ask Shallie to come down?”
“In a little while. But if you don’t mind, I’d like your opinion about the kind of plans I should make.”
“Even if I don’t turn out to be your dad? You want my opinion now?”
“Yes, please.”
“Number one. Get registered at the county high school here. I know for a fact that it’s a good place.”
“Oh, ’cause you went there?”
“Isn’t that proof enough?” He rolled his eyes, just as she’d known he would. “Seriously, it’s well regarded throughout the state. High SAT and literacy scores and all that.”
“I’d have to get my transcript, right?”
“Should be easy enough.”
“I’ll email my old school tomorrow. I did manage to finish tenth grade—with good marks.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. But I’m impressed.” He sounded as if he genuinely was. “With all the pain and disruption in your life...”
Carly bowed her head. “So, I’ll need to apply there?”
“You do. Use this address for now.”
“Have they got a music program?”
“I believe they do. Look it up. I’d definitely want to see you enrolled in that.”
She pulled down the neck of her T-shirt to reveal the musical note tattoo. “You know why I have this?”
“Because you’re a musical genius?”
“No, but I’m really interested in music, and people seem to think I have some talent.” She raised her hand when he seemed about to interrupt. “The main reason is that my mom used to sing to me, at night and in the car and when we went for a walk. All the songs she loved. I didn’t tell you that before.”
“I didn’t hear her sing very often. But there was one night in particular...” His voice trailed off.
“We sang lots of her favorites together. Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, Bob Dylan, Reba McEntire—”
“Of course,” he broke in with a laugh.
“And many more.”
“Again, I’m not surprised by what you’ve told me. But I’m very moved. And I get the tattoo thing now.”
“I had it done a few months after she died. It’s to commemorate her and to...celebrate our history.”
“You still want to talk to Shallie? To be honest, when it comes to dealing with emotional stress, I think she’d be more helpful than me. But you and I will talk later, okay? Whenever you want.”
“Okay,” she responded and he called Shallie on his cell.
Shallie came down a few minutes later; she and Carly exchanged a long hug.
“What can I do?” Shallie asked, exactly as Cord had. “I’m available to talk anytime you need. You know that.”
Carly nodded. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I’ve been feeling bad. About my mom.”
“I’m going to suggest setting you up with a therapist I used in Seattle. You can do Skype appointments with her. Would you like that?”
Carly nodded again.
“All right, consider it done.”
“Oh, by the way,” Cord said, “Eli asked me to pass this on to you.” And he gave Carly an envelope. “Let me know if you have any...concerns.”
That comment about “concerns” made her wonder, but she wasn’t really worried.
Other than her relationship with her mom, she’d never connected with people in a more profound, loving way. Fate, or whatever it was, had finally served her well.
* * *
BACK UNDER HER favorite tree, Carly closed her eyes against the sun. Since the letter Cord had given her came from Eli, she could guess who’d written it. Tearing open the envelope, she pulled out a single sheet of paper, unfolded it and glanced at the signature. Yes, indeed. Eric.
The message was carefully printed by hand.
Dear Carly,
I’m sorry. That’s all I can say. I was a jerk to give you and Lindsey a hard time. You guys don’t deserve that. I’m sorry for all the hurt I caused everyone.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I’m getting a second chance. That’s what my uncle Eli says. I’m not going to blow it. I’ll be working with the ranchers and farmers I was so unfair to. I’ll get to learn about animals. And I’m going to find that missing donkey, I swear it!
Please forgive me. I want your forgiveness and Lindsey’s. I will see you around but won’t talk to you unless you want me to.
Eric Worth
Despite the lack of details, Carly finally had a sense of who this boy was, what he’d gone through, what he hoped to become. What he could be.
She decided not to reply at this point. Checking her cell, she saw a text from Ted Lewis. Rehearsal Thursday night. Time to finish her Reba song and do a little work on the tune—then start her next one.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
FRIDAY—AND ALMOST time for their date. Shallie hadn’t been on one for years and was both excited and a little anxious about this evening.
Cord had told her they’d leave at five; he’d made arrangements with Mitch and Tina as well as Carly regarding horse and dog care. The vet students had arrived that morning and offered to help, especially since their lodging was free. Joey and Karen, in their midtwenties, seemed competent and knowledgeable, as Shallie would’ve expected; they were also charming and friendly. When she asked whether the motel suited them, they both declared it was “perfect” (well, hardly), and mentioned how much they’d enjoyed meeting Russ, who planned to buy them dinner that night.
Shallie thought, with pleasure, of how busy Carly had been the last few days and how happy she seemed. The rehearsal—which took place on the porch and which she and Cord sat in on—had been completely enjoyable. Aaron, Ted and the rest of the band were obviously delighted with their new roles as her mentors, especially in preparing the song about Reba, which she’d titled “Mother and Nature.” Shallie had been affected by its emotion and liked the simplicity of the music.
Carly’d had her first Skype session with Loretta, the therapist; they planned to talk again. “It really helped me,” she’d told Shallie. “My feelings are...clearer, you know? She said that grief isn’t a simple thing and that it doesn’t matter how long ago the person died. Grief can come back anytime and hit you hard.”
“After my divorce, I experienced grief, too, a different kind of grief, but she helped me in much the same way.”
Carly had shown her the letter from Eric, another positive sign.
Cord said Eric had been working with Miles Carey for several days, checking in with Amos, behaving more respectfully in general...
All good news.
Shallie packed a small bag with a change of clothes.
She threw in the sexiest nightgown she’d brought with her, although it was actually more practical than
sexy. And included her usual range of reading material. She never wanted to be without something to read. Would Cord be offended by the fact that she might not be paying constant attention to him? No, she decided. Not based on what she knew about him.
This evening would also be their private Fourth of July celebration. Yesterday, they’d gone as a group—with Mitch and Tina, J.P. and Eli, Carly—to the festivities, including fireworks, at the small park not far from J.P.’s house. “It was either this or poker,” Eli had joked. “We drew cards, and I got a four of hearts, so this won.”
For tonight’s dinner, Shallie planned to wear the one “fancy” dress she’d brought, a sleeveless black sheath, and her only pair of heels.
She offered to share the driving, but Cord said he’d be fine; Silver Hills was only an hour and a half away, and the trip was slow-paced, relaxed.
“Any news on Carly?” he asked.
“I’d say she’s doing well. I’ve learned a lot about her and I get the feeling that she’s learned a lot about herself. She’s really connected with Mary Jean and Len, and the situation with Meg Simon is so good—for both of them.”
“That’s the impression I had, too. And the concert is a great opportunity for her, a real boost.”
Shallie nodded. “She and I talk just about every day, and right now, the concert’s one of her main topics. That and her mom, and how much Reba would love the fact that she’s discovered music in a big way.” They were just turning into Silver Hills as Shallie finished her thought. “Remember how we couldn’t recall if Reba did much singing when she was here? Turns out it was one of the things she and Reba did together.”
“Yeah, she mentioned that... And I’m happy they had that connection. I’m having more conversations with her these days,” he added.
Shallie had noticed with pleasure that their interactions were more frequent.
“We’ve talked about Reba some, the concert, Holly—and her opinions of certain people. She has a great sense of humor.”
“So do you,” she said, and they smiled at each other.
When they arrived at the inn minutes later, Cord parked in the lot; they went immediately to the onsite restaurant and were seated near a window. Shallie felt good, not a hint of any doubt. It was easy to tell that this place was special. The predinner drinks were lovely; Shallie had perhaps the most delicious Chardonnay she’d ever tasted, and Cord said the local craft beer was “exceptional.” After that, they shared an appetizer of sustainable Pacific shrimp and scallops, followed by creamy mashed potatoes, salmon and asparagus. She said she made no exceptions for meat but would be pescatarian tonight.
Dessert? Although Shallie said she couldn’t, Cord asked for two decaf coffees and an order of the fruit tart special to split.
Shallie told him—and it was the truth—that this was one of the best meals she’d ever had, not adding that the company was a large part of that.
“I hope this will be one of the best nights you’ve ever had.”
She didn’t respond or meet his eyes, but she hoped so, too...
* * *
THEY RETRIEVED THEIR bags and walked toward the front desk to check in.
And right there in the lobby, she dropped her purse and bag, slipped both arms around his neck and kissed him—briefly but it was enough to arouse her.
When they entered their room, Shallie felt as if she was an inexperienced twenty-year-old again, despite her marriage and a short-lived relationship or two, and all the times she and Cord had been together. Throwing their bags on the floor, they surged into each other’s arms and he kissed her deeply. She kissed him back with the same passion, and they tumbled onto the bed.
Until these recent weeks with Cord, she hadn’t kissed any man since before her divorce from Rob.
She and Cord were gentle the first time. They slowly removed each other’s clothes. She’d already kicked off her heels, which had never been all that comfortable, anyway.
The intensity of kissing and touching continued, and it wasn’t long before she took him in her mouth. His excitement had the same effect on her. Then he brought Shallie to a climax unlike any she’d ever had—she was sure of it.
This was good sex, which only continued to get better.
Then they took the conventional approach, with him on top, and that worked for both of them, too.
He sighed, stroking her breasts, kissing her lips. “You know what I think this means?” he asked. “Not just this, but every minute we’ve spent together?”
“What?” And she couldn’t help sounding a little breathless, anticipating his response.
“That I’m in love with you. Completely, deeply, truly in love. And maybe...”
“Maybe I’m in love with you?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Is that possible?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. They drew close again, her arms around his neck. “You know I always wanted you, back then,” she said. “I was jealous of Reba because you loved her. Even though—or maybe because—she was my best friend.”
“I see that now. I also see how stupid I was,” he muttered.
“Never mind. Different place, different time. Different me.”
“Well, yes and no,” he said with a smile. “Now, should we have a glass of wine, relax in bed?”
“I’d like that.” So he ordered wine from room service, and they made themselves “decent,” then settled with a glass each. She’d expected to do some reading, but he turned on the TV and she found herself caught up in one episode and then another of a British mystery series.
They cuddled together, holding each other tightly—and it was more about reassurance, about comfort, than sex.
But the next morning...
* * *
J.P. FELT HE and Carly had put off their meeting long enough. He knew Cord and company had already had theirs and Eli would soon.
His initial thought had been to leave the planning of their session to her, but now he didn’t want to wait any longer, wanted to set it in motion.
He’d received Trooper from a women’s minimum security prison about two hours away in the town of Elm Ridge. He was almost certain Carly would be willing to accompany him there. And with Cord and Shallie away until this afternoon, as he’d learned from Mitch, today would be an opportune time.
He drove to the ranch house and let Trooper out, following him to the porch, where Carly was sitting with Bandit and Smoky. She was listening to something on her cell, some podcast or other.
“Hello there, Carly,” J.P. called loudly, and she finally looked up.
“Trooper, hi! Come on over!” Pause. “Oh, hi, J.P.”
He chuckled at that. Spending too much time with Brynne?
He watched her entertain all three dogs, then said, “I have a suggestion if you’re interested. I’m going to visit Trooper’s training facility, and I thought you might like to join me. We can stop for lunch on the way back...and talk.”
Carly frowned at him, as if she knew exactly what he meant by “talk.” Finally, she nodded. “I’d love to see where he was trained. Is it far from here?”
“A couple of hours. It’s at the Elm Ridge Women’s Prison. They have various dog-training programs there for inmates. They train service dogs, like Trooper, therapy dogs, Seeing Eye dogs, search and rescue dogs. It’s a huge success for everyone involved. It really helps the inmates with rehabilitation, helps the animals, most of whom are rescues and, of course, the new owners, like me. Or like I used to be.”
“Wow! And this is all done by...prisoners?”
“Yes, and as I said, everybody benefits. Sometimes it’s hard to know who’s rescuing whom.” He smiled down at Trooper. “Some of the inmates even end up working as dog trainers when they’re released.”
“Wow,” she said again. “Will I meet his trainer?”
“Yep. I heard she
’s getting out at the end of the month, so I’d like to see her, show her what a great job she did with Trooper, what a difference she made. And I want to thank her.”
“What’s her name and what’s she in for?”
“Her name is Jennifer. And you don’t need to know why she’s there. Trust me, it wasn’t murder or anything like that. This is a minimum security prison.” The crime, in fact, had been financial fraud.
“Oh-kay.” She stood up, dusted her hands and sent Cord’s dogs inside. “Tina’s in the house. Let me go tell her and get my bag.”
J.P. figured they’d arrive by twelve thirty or one, spend an hour or so, then go to a local place for lunch. He returned to his car and put Trooper back in, holding the front door as he waited for Carly. The day was bright and warm, but not too warm, the sun still reaching its zenith. Ideal July weather.
She climbed in, and once he’d exited the driveway, he saw her take a notebook from her backpack. At first she just held it on her lap. Some twenty minutes later, she started writing; he glanced over and noticed what looked like...a poem? No, it was a song! He realized that as soon as he heard her humming quietly to herself. Some lines were crossed out, some words circled.
“This is one of your songs?” he asked. “Do you want to read me what you have?”
She took a moment to consider his question, then began to read.
“The animals I know
Are the animals I love
It’s as simple as that
Here and in the world above.
“I’m rhyming lines two and four. Love and above aren’t the best, but I can’t come up with anything better. Dove? Shove? Don’t think so.”
“I think it’s okay,” he reassured her. “It makes the point. Love lasts beyond death.”
Country Strong--A Novel Page 23
