A Cowboy's Heart (The McGavin Brothers Book 4)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Want a mic?”

  “Not unless you want me to use one.”

  “Not necessary. I’ll sit close.” He walked over to a table in front and pulled out a chair.

  She settled the guitar in her lap. “This is one of my favorites from the Statler Brothers, Flowers on the Wall.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face to hide his dismay. The beloved old tune was one of his favorites, too, but he wouldn’t have chosen it for an audition. It was growing moss. He began dreaming up gentle ways to tell her she wouldn’t be performing at the GG.

  He hated the idea of crushing her hopes when she looked so cute sitting on that stool with her wild hair and her fancy guitar, but as the manager he had a duty to—holy crap. The woman could sing.

  And play. That RainSong came alive under her fingers. As she romped through the silly lyrics, he tapped his foot in time with the beat and caught himself smiling.

  She met his gaze and smiled back.

  As if he’d grabbed onto a live wire, the air whooshed from his lungs. His ears started buzzing and his chest grew tight. Damn! He’d decided weeks ago to steer clear of this woman and the same reasons still applied.

  He managed to get himself back together as she finished up and slid off the stool. He stood and his shaky legs held him. Excellent. She’d never guess that she’d just rocked his world with the combo of her music and that smile.

  The couple from Massachusetts clapped enthusiastically and she gave them a quick bow before turning back to him. “It was okay?”

  “More than okay.” He cleared his throat. “I’d very much like you play on Sunday and Monday nights.”

  She pumped a fist. “Booyah!”

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made someone that happy. If seeing her perform twice a week caused him to want things he couldn’t have, he’d deal with it. “When would you like to start?”

  She put her guitar away. “How about tonight?”

  “Works for me.”

  “Will you be here?” She glanced up, her expression open and excited.

  “Yep. How’s six o’clock sound?”

  “Perfect. I can feed Jimi and pop on over.”

  “Jimi’s doing okay?”

  “Never better.”

  “Have you heard from—”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  Picking up her guitar case, Nicole gave him a little wave. “See you at six!”

  “Looking forward to it.” Truer words were never spoken, which made him officially pathetic. He glanced at the classic Regulator clock on the wall behind the bar. Less than three hours to go.

  And he needed to calm the hell down. Nothing about her situation had changed. Only a short time had passed since she’d broken her engagement. True, her fiancé was a grub worm, but she might blame herself for a lapse of judgment. That could make a person gun-shy, something he of all people should know. Then there was Jimi the cat.

  But when the Massachusetts couple left and the place was empty, he asked the cook to watch the bar for ten minutes while he raced upstairs to his apartment for a quick shave. He also changed into his favorite Western shirt, the one with silver piping outlining the yoke, and switched from his serviceable brown Stetson to his black one. Lou had been the one to suggest his bartenders wear hats to add more Western flavor to the GG.

  She walked through the door at exactly six. He’d known musicians who thought being an artist gave them a license to be late. He didn’t need more reasons to like her, but here was another one.

  Her hair was still loose and wild, but she’d ramped up the rest of her presentation. If she had anything on under her black fringed vest, he’d eat his hat. The vest fastened securely in the front to conceal what needed to be covered and she had a slender build that made concealment easier. Even so, that vest was one of the most tantalizing pieces of clothing he’d ever seen. Tight black leather pants and a pair of elaborately tooled black leather boots completed the look.

  He didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe something understated, like a prairie skirt and a peasant blouse that matched her Flowers on the Wall audition. Maybe even some blinged-out jeans. He hadn’t expected body-hugging black leather that raised the stakes and threatened to raise something else unless he reined in his libido.

  The Sunday night crowd was small as usual. Maybe he should have asked some of his family members to drop by. No, that would have created false expectations for Nicole.

  When she came over to the bar, guitar case in one hand and a canvas bag over her shoulder, he nodded toward the handful of people occupying tables. “This is fairly typical for a Sunday night. If it’s not a big enough crowd to justify your time and trouble, I’ll understand.”

  “I don’t require a full house to do my best. Can you store my case somewhere?”

  “Sure.” He came out from behind the bar. “I’ll put it in my office.”

  “Great.” She opened the case, took out her guitar and glanced at him. “Would you mind holding this for a minute?”

  “Be glad to.” The guitar’s neck was satin smooth beneath his fingers. He’d instinctively taken it with his right hand, so the order of the strings was upside down. Even so, he couldn’t resist cradling the instrument against his chest and brushing his fingers over the strings.

  “Go ahead and play it if you want.” She started pulling things out of her canvas bag. Her wallet and keys went into the case.

  “Never really mastered playing right-handed.” Even if he had learned he couldn’t do it now. His calluses were gone and his grip would need work. For the first time since he’d put away his guitar a year ago, it bothered him that he couldn’t just grab one and make music.

  “Oh, right. Forgot you’re left-handed.” She set a plush turtle the size of a baseball glove on the bar along with a jar labeled Tip the Turtle. Then she folded the canvas bag and put it in the case. “All set.”

  He eyed the stuffed animal. “I’ll bet that works.”

  “We’ll see. It did at Trail’s End, so I brought it along. I have a smaller version for my station at the salon. Most people mean to leave a tip, but sometimes they forget. The turtle’s a gentle reminder.”

  “I like it.” He handed her back the guitar and picked up the case. “Let me stow this away and I’ll do an intro.”

  “Awesome. Thanks.”

  Moments later he returned and stepped up to the mic. “Hey, folks, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to a talented performer. She recently moved to Eagles Nest and has graciously offered to entertain us at the Guzzling Grizzly a couple of nights a week. Put your hands together for Nicole Williams!”

  The scattered crowd managed to make a fair amount of noise as Nicole took the stage. She thanked them and launched into a rollicking version of Rocky Top. She soon had everyone joining her on the chorus and the atmosphere in the bar went from mellow to energetic.

  She followed her first number with Kenny Rogers’ The Gambler, which featured another familiar chorus that she encouraged everyone to sing. When she moved from that tune to Garth Brooks’ Friends in Low Places, he knew for sure what she was after. Her brand of entertainment wasn’t about performing for a rapt audience. She wanted participation.

  The customers loved it. A few made use of the dance floor but most of them chose to stay in their seats so they could join in the singing. Phones came out as everyone called friends and family to advise them a party was in progress at the Guzzling Grizzly. Within an hour the place was packed and Nicole’s tip jar was stuffed.

  Bryce was thrilled for her and grateful that the unexpected crowd left him with zero time to obsess over his new crush. But the GG was seriously understaffed for the onslaught. He had one cook and one server.

  As the lone bartender, he fixed more drinks in less time than he’d thought possible. He glanced up in the middle of the action and blinked when he saw Ryker leaning against the bar. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “You’ve been busy, little brother
. Looks like you could use a hand.” Ryker glanced at a tray of four beer mugs. “Where do those go?”

  “Table three. And thanks.”

  “You bet. I’ve always wanted to do this.” He hoisted the tray and balanced it one-handed before starting off.

  If it had been anyone but Ryker, the move would have spelled disaster. But his eldest brother had coordination down to a science. He’d been a star athlete in high school and a decorated fighter pilot in the Air Force. He’d deliver those beers without spilling a drop and the ranchers at table three would love being served by the town hero.

  Ryker apparently got a kick out of it, too, because he insisted on staying. He seemed to enjoy tag-teaming with Jenny, an experienced server who was old enough to be his mother. They fell into an easy camaraderie as they kept the customers supplied with food and drink. The frantic pace let up a little thanks to Ryker’s help.

  When Nicole finished her first set and came over for a glass of water, Bryce introduced her to his brother.

  Ryker tipped his hat. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am. I wish my fiancée had come with me tonight. She’d love to hear you.”

  “I’ll be performing tomorrow night, too.”

  “Then we’ll do our best to be here.” He gazed at her. “I keep thinking I’ve heard your name before.”

  “From Mom?” Bryce started mixing an order of gin and tonics. “Nicole does her hair.”

  Ryker snapped his fingers. “Yep, that’s it. You’re also the one doing the women’s hair for Zane and Mandy’s wedding.”

  “I sure am. Should be a lot of fun.” She polished off her water and glanced at the clock behind the bar. “I’d better get back. Don’t want to lose my audience.”

  “No chance of that,” Ryker said. “You’ve got them eating out of your hand.”

  Her blue eyes sparkled. “I love it when that happens. Nice meeting you, Ryker.”

  “Same here, Nicole.” He touched the brim of his hat before turning back to the bar. He glanced at the tray Bryce had set out for him. “I need a glass of Merlot to go with those G and Ts.”

  “Coming up.” Bryce grinned. “You’re getting damn good at this server gig. Want to moonlight here when I’m shorthanded?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. My evenings are spoken for.”

  “Then why aren’t you with April tonight?” He poured Merlot into a wineglass and put it on the tray with the gin and tonics.

  “The hospital called and asked if she’d give a massage to a patient who’s having a rough time.”

  “But you’ve been here a while. She must be home by now.”

  “True, but you need—”

  “Nah, it’s slowed down. Jenny and I can handle it.”

  “Okay. Let me deliver this one and I’ll take off.” He was back in no time, chuckling and shaking his head. “Those ladies wanted to tip me so much money. I had to give it back.”

  “Sure you don’t want to work at the GG? You could clean up.”

  “Money isn’t everything, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Ryker sighed. “Yeah, I guess you do. Didn’t intend to be a smartass.” He gazed at Bryce. “Nicole’s really good with that guitar.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “I hope this doesn’t come out wrong, but since you’ve said flat-out you won’t play for Zane’s wedding, would you be offended if I asked her?”

  “Of course not. But you’re expecting a lot if she’s fixing everyone’s hair and then has to gear up for a performance later.”

  “Good point. Would one song be too much?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “If she could do just one song during the ceremony, we can use recorded music for the rest of it.”

  “That’s probably okay.”

  “I’ll check with Zane, then. Maybe he and Mandy can come in tomorrow night so they can hear her. I know they’d love to have some live music.”

  Guilt stabbed him. “I know, and I—”

  “Look, I get it. Playing would be too painful.”

  “And not just emotionally at this point. My hands aren’t in shape. Nicole could be a great option if she’s willing and Zane and Mandy go for it.”

  “I think so, too, but don’t say anything to her, yet. Let’s see if I can get them in here tomorrow night to hear her.”

  “Yeah, they should, even though I predict they’ll love her.”

  “Me, too. Anyway, the real reason I came by tonight was to see if you’re still planning on the trip to Bozeman in the morning to get fitted for our wedding duds.”

  “Sure am.” And he’d block any flashbacks to his own wedding disaster.

  “We talked about choosing a different place, but this one has the best selection.”

  “Understood. No worries.”

  “We know your size, so we could grab yours without you being there.”

  “I want to go and I’ll be fine.” He measured tequila into a large pitcher. “There’s no way in hell I’ll let anything detract from Zane’s happiness. Trust me on that one.”

  “Okay, good, because I think it’s important that we’re all there. We’re taking that fancy-ass van that Mom’s so proud of, so be at the ranch by eight.” He glanced over at Nicole, who was crooning a Faith Hill tune and inviting the audience to join in. “She’d add a lot to the ceremony.”

  “Yep.” He dumped lime juice into the pitcher.

  “Trev seems to think that you’re—”

  “Trev thinks a lot of things that aren’t true.”

  “Yeah.” Ryker paused. “But sometimes ol’ Trev is right on the money.”

  “Not this time.” He picked up the bottle of Triple Sec.

  “If you say so.” Ryker flashed him a smile and left.

  As Bryce salted the rims of four glasses, he tried to ignore Nicole singing that sweet love song. Not easy, especially since he liked hearing it. He’d have to tend bar again tomorrow night even though it was technically his night off. She was bringing in too much business for Mike to handle it alone. Mike Murphy would be an excellent bartender eventually, but he wasn’t ready for a solo stint on a busy night.

  “I’m dedicating this next one to Bryce McGavin,” Nicole said. “He was kind enough to let me perform for you folks and I happen to know he loves this tune. Y’all join in on the chorus, okay?” With her gaze trained on him, she launched into Flowers on the Wall.

  He should be respectful and pay attention since she’d dedicated it to him. No problem. He could work and watch her at the same time. Two seconds later he knocked over the pitcher of margaritas.

  Chapter Three

  Nicole gained confidence with each number. Thank goodness she’d worked up her courage to ask Bryce to let her play at the Guzzling Grizzly. It proved that her success at Trail’s End hadn’t been a fluke. Sure, she had a few friends and clients in the audience tonight, but many of the people in the room had never met her. Maybe, just maybe, she was good at this.

  After she finished her last set, she carried her guitar, her tip jar and her turtle over to the bar. She left the turtle and the tip jar on the bar but carefully propped her guitar at her feet. The crowd had thinned after Bryce had announced last call and now nearly everyone was leaving. Several stopped to compliment her on their way out the door.

  Bryce poured two mugs of coffee before turning toward her. “Want me to fetch your stuff from the office?”

  “Not yet.” She was on an adrenaline high and if she went home she’d pace for hours.

  “Just let me know.” Then he smiled. “Great job tonight.”

  “Thank you.” That cowboy had one heck of a smile. It was icing on top of the cake after all the love she’d had coming her way tonight. “I’m so happy that the audience reacted well. They were just like the customers at Trail’s End.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “To be honest, I had no idea what to expect.” The dark lashes that framed his blue eyes made for a great combo, t
oo. Working here two nights a week would be a pleasure, not even counting the enthusiastic audience response.

  “Really?” He put the mugs of coffee on a tray. “Why wouldn’t you—”

  “Fabulous job, Nicole!” Jenny hurried toward the bar. She was flushed and her gray hair had escaped from its bun. “Everyone loved you. You should hear all the compliments flying around.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Bryce said, “but she’s surprised.”

  Jenny stared at Nicole. “But you’re amazing! You have to know that.”

  “Well, I didn’t.”

  “Honey, when you pick up that guitar and start to play, you’re the female equivalent of Bryce McGavin. And I couldn’t pay you a better compliment.”

  Nicole’s gaze flicked to Bryce’s. “You played here?”

  “Used to.”

  “And he filled the seats, too.” Jenny beamed at him. “Anyway, you’ll have to excuse me while I deliver this coffee.” She picked up the tray. “But take my word for it, Nicole. You’re great.” She hurried away.

  “Thank you!” Nicole called after her.

  “See?” Bryce lifted his eyebrows. “She’s a fan.”

  “Jenny’s a sweetheart. I could tell that from the first time I came in here.”

  “She’s definitely a sweetheart, but she wouldn’t say you’re good if she didn’t believe it.” He picked up the coffee pot. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks. I’m already wired.”

  “I know the feeling.” He poured himself a mug and set it on the bar before turning off the pot. “Water?”

  “Water would be good.” When he handed it to her, she drank half. Singing was thirsty business. “What’s this about you performing at the Guzzling Grizzly?”

  “Old news.”

  “Sounds like you’re good at it.”

  “Not anymore.” He sipped his coffee. “Let’s skip that boring topic. I’m curious as to why you didn’t expect a good reception from the folks here. Like Jenny said, you have to know you’re amazing.”

  “Why would I? I’ve only performed at one place, and I got the gig because the owners were my clients at the salon. I played one song for them to show them what I could do, but it wasn’t like a formal audition, which was lucky. I doubt I was very good.”