“How’s Rosie?” she asked.
“She’s fine. Just don’t forget. Okay, Mom? I want a Bandon hat.”
“I’ll remember,” Natalie said with a twinkling grin at Zeke. “If anything else comes up, you have our number.”
“Love you, Mom.”
Natalie blew kisses into the phone. “I love you, too, sweetie.”
As she broke the connection, she turned to kiss Zeke, only to smack her lips against a large manila envelope. She reared back to stare at it and then at him. “What’s that?”
He grinned and flapped the envelope at her. “Open it and see. It’s a last-minute wedding gift, something to make you remember this moment for the rest of your life.”
Natalie took the envelope from him and stared at the return address on the upper left corner. “Who is Granger Enterprises?”
“Just open it,” he said, smiling with satisfaction.
Natalie worked her thumb under the tape. When she peeked inside, she could decipher nothing from the blur of print and drew out what appeared to be a contract. As she read the top page, she saw the title of her song, “If Only,” midway down the page.
“What is this?” she asked again.
“That,” he said slowly, “is a contract of purchase, Mrs. Coulter. I sent your song off to several agents, and one of them ran with it. You just sold it to a big-time recording artist, Roger Granger.”
Roger Granger was the new phenomenon in country-western music, a male vocalist who had blasted his way to the top of the charts and was holding steady. Natalie sat there, staring at the jumble of print, unable to make sense of it. “I can’t believe it. You’re joking. Right?”
Zeke just shrugged. “Things like this happen when someone writes a dynamite song and puts it to music that rocks. Granger loves it. The agent says he plans to do a duet with a famous female vocalist—a he-said, she-said kind of song, which will require you to do just a little more writing to insert the male viewpoint.”
Natalie had heard songs done that way, and her imagination immediately clicked into gear. Oh, yes. The song lent itself perfectly to that. She just couldn’t believe that a famous singer loved the words and the melody. It was, like, the biggest charge of her life—almost, anyway.
“You’re on your way.”
Just then the check fell out onto Natalie’s lap. She stared incredulously at the amount. Then she burst out laughing. “This has to be a joke.”
Zeke looked over at her. “No, and I’m going to laugh all the way to the bank with my share. You can pay me back for the renovations to the club with that check, darlin’.”
Natalie barely heard him. She was still staring at the amount of the check and recounting the digits.
“That’s after ten percent for the agent. All you have to do is sign, sweetheart, and you’ve not only got representation, you’ve got your first sale. A big one. I’ve learned a few things over the course of this adventure, namely that good songwriters can make a killing.”
“Oh, Zeke.”
He grinned and dipped his head to steal a quick kiss. “I asked you once. I’ll ask you again. What the hell are you doing in a Podunk town like Crystal Falls? You were born for Nashville, darlin’. You’re wasting your time here.”
Looking up at his dark, sun-burnished features and those blue eyes she loved so much, Natalie knew exactly why she was in Crystal Falls—and why she meant to stay. Someone else could go on the road and scrabble to make it big. If she could sell her songs, she’d be happy. The most important success of her life was sitting right beside her, a wonderful, handsome, loyal man who would always love her, even when she burned the eggs, and who would believe in her even when she’d lost faith in herself.
She’d had songs in her heart all her life. This man was the best song of all—a sweet melody that had come to her when she was least expecting it, like all of her really good songs always did. Only she didn’t need to rewrite any of the lines to make him perfect.
He’d come to her that way.
Bright Eyes Page 37
