Hold Her Again

by Shannon Stacey

He accepted the change without further argument, leaving a five on the counter next to the register. “Can we get together and talk? Somewhere people aren’t watching us?”

  Ava closed the register, her heart pounding in her chest. Being alone with him wasn’t a smart move, and she knew it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t want to leave it like this between us.”

  Digging deep, she summoned some of the lingering anger and resentment. “At least this time I know you’re leaving.”

  “Go for a walk with me later. Down by the creek.”

  Memories washed over her and, to her horror, tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. “You need to go, Jace.”

  She didn’t know if she meant he needed to leave the café or leave Cottonwood Creek, but she wasn’t going to be able to keep resisting him if she didn’t put space between them.

  For a long moment, she thought he was going to push the issue, but then he gave her a sorrowful smile and nodded. She pressed her lips together to keep from calling him back as he turned and walked out the door, and she flinched when the bell rang.

  It was for the best, she thought as she blinked away the tears. She was almost sure of it.

  * * *

  There were women everywhere. Chattering about grandkids and recipes and knitting, along with a healthy dose of funny husband-bashing, the women from the church moved through his father’s house, sorting and boxing everything in their path.

  After the funeral, he’d made mention of not knowing what exactly he’d be doing with his father’s things and one of the church ladies had told him they were always open to donations for the spring rummage sale which, as he knew, paid for most of the vacation Bible school activities and other programs for the children. Since he wanted a real estate agent in there as soon as possible, he’d agreed and before he knew it, the time had been set for them to come in and take whatever they thought they could sell.

  Apparently they thought they could sell most everything, which worked for him.

  He’d already mowed the lawn and cleaned up around the place. There wasn’t much he could do about the stucco or the shed without putting in some serious time or money, but he’d talk that over with the real estate agent. With property values being what they were in the area, it might not be worth investing a lot to make a little.

  When the boxes and bags were all piled in the living room for the menfolk to pick up and run to the church’s storage room, the women started getting ready to leave. He thanked each of them personally, and that’s how Mrs. Lowry, who was the current reigning grand dame of the group, got him cornered.

  “We’d love to have you sing at the Christmas party this year, Jace.”

  People always wanted him to sing, so that was no surprise, and he opened his mouth to offer up one of the super-flattered stock declinations he and Carrie had actually drafted on paper several years back, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “It’s a fundraiser, you know.”

  It seemed as if everything was a fundraiser for something or other. “Yes, ma’am, but I have to—”

  “For our Santa fund,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “We use the money we make from the Christmas party to buy gifts for the children who wouldn’t have any presents under the tree otherwise.”

  She was looking him straight in the eye and he would bet every dime he had that she was one of the women who’d made sure there was a set of metal Tonka trucks under the tree the year his mom had died and his father drank himself out of a job. Jace had written the note to Santa in school, just like the other kids, but he hadn’t believed or even dared to hope. But on Christmas morning, there had been a dump truck, a backhoe and a bulldozer under the tree his father had put in the window so the neighbors wouldn’t think poorly of him.

  So at the end of a really shitty year, little Jace had been gifted some Christmas joy and it was one of the best memories he had of Cottonwood Creek that didn’t include Ava.

  “I have one condition,” he said.

  Mrs. Lowry scoffed. “If you’re about to tell me exactly what temperature you want your fancy bottled water, you can save your breath because I remember the day you threw up in Sunday school class after you ate a bug to make the girls squeal.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I think you squealed louder than the girls did. But no, I don’t have a list of demands. I just think it would be best if you didn’t really advertise that I’ll be a part of the festivities.”

  “The whole point is get the attendance up and make more money for the kids.”

  “I may have been away awhile, but I’m pretty sure this town can spread the word without using the internet or a newspaper. And while that word’s being spread, maybe make mention I’ll have to cancel if all my fans find out I’ll be singing at an open event.”

  Mrs. Lowry scowled as if imagining their town being overrun by a horde of screaming strangers, and then gave a sharp nod. “You can be sure of that.”

  Once the women had departed, leaving a cloud of dust on the road behind their vehicles, Jace debated on what he was doing to do for the rest of the day. There were still boxes to go through, of all the personal items and papers the ladies had set aside for him because they couldn’t or shouldn’t be donated or sold. But now that he’d committed to staying in town awhile longer, he had plenty of time for that.

  He should probably check out the old schoolhouse where the Christmas party was held. He’d been in that place more times than he could count, and even sang there with Ava a few times, but he’d learned a lot about performing in the years since. If he was going to give his hometown a show, he’d do it right.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and when he pulled it out, he wasn’t surprised to see Carrie’s name on the screen. Carrie Bond hadn’t been happy about his road trip back to Missouri alone, and he was shocked she’d gone this long without checking on him.

  “Hey, Carrie.”

  “How are you holding up?” Her voice was brisk, as usual, but that was just her way. Over the years, their relationship had grown into a solid friendship on top of her professional management, and he knew she genuinely cared about the answer.

  “I’m doing okay, I guess. The women from church have been helping me empty out the house and the real estate agent’s coming in a couple of days, so the ball’s rolling.”

  “That tells me what you’re doing, not how you’re doing.”

  “It’s not easy and, to be honest, it’s a little weird being here. But I’ve caught up with my old friend, Blue. I know I’ve mentioned him a time or two, so that’s been good.” When she didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch out, he knew she was waiting him out. “Ava came to the funeral. Then she stopped by the house and we sat on the front porch for a while. I saw her at the café yesterday.”

  “And?”

  “I made the wrong choice.” He said the words with no hesitation, because he knew in his heart they were true.

  “No, you didn’t. You two would still be struggling to make enough money to make your music, if you were even still together. You made a tough decision, worked your ass off and you’ve been successful. If there’s still something between you, it’ll work out.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly, he almost believed her. Not just because of her no-nonsense tone, but because he trusted her. She hadn’t steered him wrong in over five years and, even when it hurt, he’d learned she was usually right.

  “When are you coming back?” she asked, all business again. “Once your father’s belongings are taken care of, you don’t need to be there in person for the real estate business. That can be handled for you from here.”

  He knew that, but he wasn’t ready to leave town quite yet. “They invited me to perform at the town’s annual Christmas party and I said yes.”

  She was s
ilent again for a few seconds, and in his mind he could picture her expression. Eyes slightly narrowed and her lips pursed as she tried to decide whether it was a battle she wanted to fight. “Privately?”

  “The party’s really meant for people who live in the town, but there aren’t exactly doormen or bouncers. I did tell Mrs. Lowry it would probably be best to keep the buzz to local gossip and not advertise it.”

  “Yeah, because nobody’s going to share their excitement about a Jace Morrow Christmas concert on social media or anything.”

  Her sarcasm made him chuckle, though he knew she was right. “The word-of-mouth gossip will include the warning I’ll have to cancel if it gets out and people start showing up. Hopefully that’ll help keep a lid on it.”

  “I’d feel better about it if you at least had security. I can find you somebody. Or send somebody.”

  “I don’t need security. I’ll have Blue.” She didn’t laugh. “If it makes you feel better, have the social media people keep an eye on my mentions and give me a heads up if it looks like there could be a crowd.”

  “I already sent that email.” Of course she had. “You haven’t forgotten you have your own Christmas party to worry about, right?”

  “It would be hard to forget since it’s an annual thing and y’all have been nagging me about it for months.” This would be his fourth year throwing a holiday party for his band and crew, along with an ever-increasing guest list. The first year had been beer and chips with dip. The second had been catered, the third had needed a planner and this year had a team of people working on it. “I won’t miss my own party, I promise.”

  “It’s called planning, not nagging. Let me know what you’re up to out there, and when you figure out when you’re coming home, let me know.”

  “I will. For now, I think I’ll mosey on down to the schoolhouse and check out the venue. I want to get out of this house for a while and helping hang some Christmas decorations will do me some good.”

  “The schoolhouse?”

  “Yeah, the old schoolhouse has been where the town holds events for generations. It’s more or less a big barn at this point, but with the staircase and the bell thing on top, like you see in old pictures.”

  “Sounds...fun.” Her heard her snort. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I always do.”

  Once they’d hung up, he grabbed his keys and drove the short distance to the schoolhouse. He’d already pulled into the dirt parking area when he saw the Jeep. A sweet, jacked-up red Wrangler with the top off, even though most people out and about today would be wearing their coats.

  Ava was inside. He sat with the truck idling for a solid minute, wondering if the right thing to do was to turn around and leave her alone.

  Then he killed the engine and climbed out. He’d promised Mrs. Lowry he’d be a part of the Christmas program. And Carrie’s words were still fresh in his mind. If there’s still something between you, it’ll work out.

  It was time to start finding out if there really was anything left between them.

  Chapter Five

  “You shouldn’t be standing on the table like that.”

  Ava froze, her fingers crushing the garland she’d been stringing. She didn’t need to turn around to know that voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “I figured I’d take a break from sorting through the house and help here for a while. Maybe find some Christmas spirit.”

  After tacking up a final loop of garland, Ava made sure her expression was neutral and turned to face him. “How did you know we were here?”

  “To start with, this party’s been thrown every year since our grandparents were kids. And Mrs. Lowry gave me a copy of the schedule.” He smiled, but it didn’t stay long before his expression turned serious again. “She didn’t tell me you’d be here, though. I thought you’d be working.”

  “It’s a slow day, so I thought I’d help out here until Whitney calls me back to the café.” Mrs. Lowry was a damn busybody, Ava thought. “I think we’re all set for help, but thanks for stopping by.”

  “I’m gonna get a crick in my neck, looking up at you like this.”

  “Like I said, we don’t need any help, so go ahead and leave. Save your neck.”

  He arched his eyebrows at her tone, but didn’t move. “At the very least, I’d like to do a sound check. Get a feel for the acoustics in here before my performance.”

  It felt as if she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds as his words sank in. “What performance?”

  “Why don’t you come down off that table and we’ll talk about it.”

  That was a problem for Ava. One, she didn’t want to talk to him. And two, she didn’t see a dignified way to get down. She’d crawled up onto it, since the only two people in the schoolhouse at the time were the two women currently pretending to be busy at the other end of the room. She didn’t really care to give Jace that view of herself.

  As though he could see her predicament written on her face, he held his arms up to her.

  Oh, hell no.

  But he wasn’t going to leave. That much was obvious. And she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of watching her crawl off the table rather than let him help her. But she wanted to know what performance he was talking about, so it was best to get it over with.

  Clenching her teeth, she bent forward and braced her hands on Jace’s shoulders as his hands skimmed up her sides to support under her arms. He lifted her easily, but she sucked in a breath as her body slid down his.

  Then she was on her feet, with her hands on his chest and his hands on her waist, and it was so hauntingly familiar she couldn’t move. If she picked her head up to look at him, he would kiss her.

  She wanted it, so much her entire body ached with the need for his lips on hers.

  Bracing her hands against him, she straightened her arms to get some distance. It was a strong hint and he took it, backing up a couple of steps. It wasn’t enough to make her stop thinking about kissing him, but she wasn’t sure that much distance was even possible.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, hating the way her skin felt hot and hoping he couldn’t see it.

  “My pleasure,” he said, and then he had the audacity to wink at her. She rolled her eyes, which only made him smile. “So about the performance, Mrs. Lowry talked me into singing at the Christmas party, since it’s a fundraiser for the Santa fund and everything. She can be very persuasive.”

  “Please don’t sing the song” was all she could say, and even that was in a choked whisper.

  He put his hand on her arm, probably out of concern, and she couldn’t bring herself to shake it off. “What song?”

  “The song. That song.” She shook her head. “You know damn well what song I’m talking about.”

  “I won’t.” He rubbed her arm gently, his voice soft. “I promise. I was kind of thinking I’d sing some Christmas songs at the Christmas party.”

  Of course he would. Feeling silly, Ava shook off his hand and tried to focus on the fact Jace wouldn’t be getting in his fancy truck and driving east anytime this week. “It’ll be a circus if that gets out.”

  “We’re hoping it won’t. There’s a plan. Kind of.”

  “Christmas songs are good,” she said, still hung up on her fear that she was going to have sit and watch him sing The Song directly to her.

  “I prefer doing my own songs. More authentic, I guess. But it’ll be fun to sing some carols, especially if everybody sings along.”

  “Authentic?” She snorted. “You’ve made a fortune singing about tractors and horses and banging women in the back of pickup trucks—because apparently nothing says sexy like bedliner burn—but you never owned a tractor and you’ve sure as hell never ridden a horse.”

  She stopped short of addressing the pickup sex, sin
ce he had banged at least one girl in the back of a truck. That was before spray-in bedliners and it had been a rusty 1984 Ford, but they’d been young and slightly drunk, and an old quilt had been all they’d needed.

  “There might be a law about having to have at least one song about a tractor if you’re a man making country music.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling, but she did her best to keep her expression from showing how it affected her. It must have worked because he quickly sobered, and then he leaned closer so the other women couldn’t hear. “If there’s one truth in my music, Ava, it’s you. Loving you. Missing you.”

  Pain twisted through her. “Stop. I don’t want to hear it and I really don’t want other people hearing it.”

  “I asked you to talk with me somewhere private, and you don’t want to. I’ve got things I need to say to you, Ava Wright, but you won’t give me the chance.”

  “There’s nothing you can say. Don’t you understand that?”

  “I made a mistake. I lived in a house with a man who told me I was no good and didn’t have enough talent to fill a tin cup with spare change. Carrie believed in me and—”

  “I believed in you, Jace. Me. I believed in you every minute of your life. I was there for you and I helped you and I sacrificed for you.”

  “And I was too stupid and hungry for success to see it. I know, Ava. I know what I did to you—to us—but I can’t change it. I wish to God I could.”

  “Do you? If you could go back in time to St. Louis, would you make the same choice?”

  “If I could go back in time to that night in St. Louis, knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t make the same choice, no. I would have told her that you and I belong together and that I wouldn’t go without you, no matter what.”

  “And if she’d still been willing to walk away?”

  “I would have told her not to let the door hit her on the ass on her way out.”

  She wanted so badly to believe him, even though it didn’t change a damn thing. And everything about the look in his eyes, the certainty in his voice and the set of his jaw told her he believed what he was telling her. Hearing The Song had been painful enough without knowing he’d actually meant it—that the emotions he’d put on paper and set to music had come from his heart.