by Kim Redford
“I always knew you were a wild thing, but I don’t think I completely understood what that meant until you were gone.” He moved closer to her as he caught the special scent that was so much a part of her that it spun him right back in time to those fragrance-filled nights in the woods. “Wild things can’t be caught and held, or they’ll make a break for freedom sooner or later. It’s their nature.”
“I just wanted the cruise gig.”
“And I just wanted to hold you here any way I could do it…but now I know something else.”
“Craig—”
“If you let a wild thing run free, she’ll eventually come back to hearth, home…and love.”
“Love?”
“Yeah.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Maybe your body has been gone, but your heart has always been here in Wildcat Hall Park. And my heart has always been with you.”
She glanced up at him with misty green eyes, then clasped his fingers.
“Let’s make music together.”
“That’s when we’re truly alive and in each other’s world…in our own world.”
“Partners?”
“Yes.” She squeezed his hand. “But I’ll always be a wild thing.”
“I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He raised her hand and gently kissed her fingertips.
Chapter 5
“Do you want to see the Hall now?” Craig asked. “That’s where we made our best music together.”
“Inspiration will do that for an artist.” Fern smiled as she headed down the stairs with him on her heels. She felt happy as she walked the path that wove in and out around the cabins with the sweet scent of roses and the trills of birdsong filling the air. She glanced at the cowboy cabin that would be hers tomorrow, as always appreciative of the creativity and love that had gone into its construction. Overall, the building was the color of soft, weathered gray from the tin roof to barn wood walls, but it was brightened with a shiny red door and two rockers on the porch painted a matching crimson. She could hardly wait to move in there.
Home. She was really back home. And she was glad to be here. After all her years of roaming, she felt as if she was finally at the point of being willing to put down roots…with Craig still here to share Wildcat Hall and music with her.
Happiness filled her as she reached the honky-tonk. She loved the look of horizontal wood slats painted white with a western false front that had a steeply pitched tin roof with side flaps for open-air dancing. The double front doors and tall windows allowed plenty of circulation back in the day, so they had screens with black-painted slats, while a side door led to the huge outdoor garden. A parking lot in front had been changed to cement years ago, so that it now accommodated gas-powered vehicles instead of grass-fed horses with buggies.
She stopped in front, simply enjoying the sight.
“Like what you see?” Craig asked.
“I missed it here.”
“And you were missed by everyone.” He gestured around the Park. “I meandered quite a bit before I came back, too.”
“How is your ranch near Sure-Shot?”
“Horses will always be in my blood, but music is my first love.”
“Can the ranch get along without you?”
“It’s not that far away, and good help lives there full-time.”
“Beautiful out that way.”
“Yep.” He smiled at her, shrugging slightly. “Guess I’ll always be a singing cowboy.”
“Quite a long and respectable heritage.”
“Thanks. We’re doing our best to keep the tradition alive…just like you. We need our singing cowgirls, too.”
She returned his smile, leaning toward him, lured by the warmth in his hazel eyes.
“Want to go inside? I brought the key.”
“Yes. I’m more than ready.”
After he unlocked the doors, she walked into the front bar and flipped on the overhead lights. For her, this room was the heart and soul of Wildcat Hall. It had a long wooden bar with a black cast-iron foot rail, a pressed tin ceiling accented by ceiling fans with schoolhouse lights, and floor-to-ceiling windows in front. A big red professional-size fire extinguisher lay on its side, as if ready for use, across one end of the wooden bar. She relished the cozy, old-fashioned ambience that had nurtured folks since 1884, well over a hundred years.
The decor was minimal. Rusty metal beer advertisement signs had been tacked around the walls, along with sepia-toned photographs of cowboys on horseback and country music legends. A framed Lone Star State flag hung in back of the bar while a rack of deer antlers loomed above the front doors. A flat-screen monitor above the bar was the only contemporary touch, but it could mostly be ignored if it wasn’t turned on. Hand-hewn, scarred wood tables with high-back chairs filled the area.
“We haven’t changed a thing,” Craig said. “It’s just the way you left it in here.”
“What about the dance hall?”
“Check for yourself.”
She quickly walked into a short hall, then turned and moved through an open doorway into the center of the big room with rows of long, narrow, hand-made wood tables with matching benches placed on each side of the dance floor in front of a wall of screened windows. Natural light filtered inside, throwing shadows across the rough wood floor.
She glanced from the stage to the other end of the dance floor at the long bar that served munchies, coffee, sarsaparilla, beer, and wine. Two open windows allowed bartenders to serve customers on the dance hall side and on the front bar side at the same time. She liked the practical set up, just like she liked everything else about the Hall.
It didn’t make as big a statement as fancy honky-tonks like Billy Bob’s Texas in the Fort Worth stockyards with 127,000 square feet of boot-scooting space or the famous Longhorn Ballroom in Dallas with 20,000 square feet. But Wildcat Hall was plenty spacious with 4,000 square feet inside and room for more in the garden with picnic tables outside. She just wished the Hall had the tourist draw of those two famous places, but a major destination attraction and music venue could be built with the right promotion and entertainment from up-and-coming as well as established artists.
She was drawn to the recessed, raised stage with its hand-painted backdrop of crimson curtains trimmed with gold pulled open to reveal a pastoral scene of cowboys herding longhorns. She glanced up at the high ceiling with exposed wood rafters that held black ceiling fans, hanging light bulbs, sprinkler system, and a row of stage lights. She’d played under those lights many a time with Craig.
“Remember?” he asked, stopping by her side.
“It’s a small stage, but a good one.”
“Do you want to play this weekend?”
“Us?”
“Yes.”
“What about your band?” she asked.
“We’d bring you on for a set, not the entire time.”
“I haven’t practiced with y’all in so long.”
“How about just the two of us? I’d play bass.”
She walked over to the stage, shivering inside, and stood still, letting the memories of performing there with Craig wash over her. It was such an intimate act, playing together…anticipating each other, harmonizing with each other, leading, following, joining…about as close to sex without the actual act as they could manage.
“Are you getting cold feet?” He walked over and sat down on the edge of the stage, looking up at her with seemingly endless patience.
“I just…maybe I don’t need to perform. It’s plenty to do making plans, setting schedules, reaching out to bands.”
“Fern, stop it. You’re a performer. You can’t live without it any more than I can. Anyway, you’ve got fans in the area that are just waiting for you to return. You don’t want to disappoint them, do you?”
She plopped down beside him so she didn’t have to look into the reality of
his eyes. The stage felt cool and comfortable, even inviting. She glanced up at the lights. At night, they’d be hot and brilliant, showcasing her fret work as she played her guitar and sang her heart out, while she evoked emotions with words and melodies that spoke to the deepest desires, loves, and pains that people might not be able to reach otherwise. It was a calling.
She did feel as if she owed it to folks to give them the gift that was her single blessing in this life. Everyone had their own gift, but hers was meant to ease the pain of others, nurture their happiness, elevate their lives. Could she say no even if she wanted to run away from the commitment? Maybe that was why she always moved on when things got too close, too intimate, and too emotional because she already felt so on edge, so giving, so connected to others. When she’d told Craig she’d needed space, she’d really meant it. And of course, there’d been the once-in-a-lifetime gig on the high seas that had lured her away, too. Wild thing, as he called her, was a good way to put it.
And yet, here she was, back in Wildcat Hall, sitting on the stage with Craig as if she’d never been gone.
She stood abruptly. She wouldn’t let anyone down this time. Wildcat Bluff’s tight-knit community depended on her skills and her love of not just the Park but the entire special county. She’d give her all for the dance hall and Wild West Days.
She walked into the center of the honky-tonk and twirled around and around, revving up her energy, her spirits, her determination.
In a moment, she felt Craig take her hand and twirl her around, and then he led her into a slow dance, humming a Willie Nelson’s tune.
As they moved as one across the dance hall, she knew why he’d picked that particular, heart-wrenching song. In it, Willie laments that he saved an angel flying too close to the ground with love, but that he’ll let her go if she needs to fly away because that is the true giving nature of love. Craig was telling her with the song that if she couldn’t stay, he’d let her go…healed by love.
She tightened her hands around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling his hands on her back tighten until they were moving body-to-body across the dance floor with no other accompaniment than the rich tone of his voice as he changed from humming to words, beguiling her into not flying away.
She understood only too well that he wouldn’t clip her wings. Instead, he would lift her up with both hands until she was strong enough to fly free. But would she? He didn’t know. Neither did she.
For now, she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, dancing to the beat of their hearts and the sound of his voice.
“It doesn’t get any better than this,” he finally said, breaking off the song and stopping the dance.
She leaned back so she could see his face. He looked like the song—in love and at peace.
“I’ll always have this memory. I can live a long time on it.”
“We’ll make more…music and memories.” She went up on tiptoes and placed a soft kiss, almost a secret whisper, on his too-full, too-sensitive lips.
Chapter 6
“That’s it, varmints!” a deep voice commanded as several booted feet hit the wood floor of the main bar, followed by the slamming of the front door. “Come out with your hands up or eat lead.” Those ringing words were followed by the ratchet of a shotgun.
Craig gave a loud sigh as he stepped back from Fern, shaking his head at the lousy timing of what could only be the Settelmeyer family. They must’ve seen lights on in the Hall and come to investigate.
Fern clutched his arm, looking alarmed at the intrusion.
“It’s okay.” He patted her hand in reassurance before he looked toward the bar. “Claude, it’s me!”
“Craig, what are you doing out and about so early?” Claude called back.
“Come here. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Better be a good one. We’re trying to stay on schedule here.”
Fern chuckled, squeezing Craig’s arm. “Heaven help anybody who gets them off schedule.”
“Looks like that’s going to be us today.”
“Oh my.”
After more boot stomping, a family of three tall, muscular, blond, blue-eyed folks stepped inside, looking put out. They were identically dressed in crimson long-sleeve T-shirts with the Wildcat Hall logo emblazoned on the front, Wranglers, and black cowboy boots. They were a good-looking family. Claude and Lana appeared to be in their fifties, while Alicia looked about thirty or so. They radiated strength and competence with a no-nonsense attitude.
“We’re already ten minutes off schedule.” Lana put her hands on her hips along with a frown on her face. “Craig, what are you doing back here on the dance floor?”
“I brought him.” Fern stepped forward into the light of a window with a smile on her face.
“Good grief! Is that really you?” Lana put a hand to her chest as a grin spread across her face.
“Fern!” Alicia shrieked, ran forward, and threw her arms around Fern, crushing her in a big bear hug. “When did you get back?”
“Last night.”
Lana hugged Fern next, patting her on the back before she moved aside to look at her closely. “You lost weight. We’d best get busy putting some meat back on your bones.”
“Why didn’t you let us know ahead of time, so we could’ve made you comfortable?” Claude asked as he broke open the shotgun, removed the two cartridges, and dropped them in a pocket.
“We could’ve met you at the airport,” Lana said.
“I didn’t want to be a bother.” Fern gave them a warm smile. “I just picked up a rental and headed on up here.”
“Where did you spend the night?” Alicia glanced at Craig, raising an eyebrow in obvious interest.
“She woke me from a sound sleep.”
“I stayed with him last night,” Fern said, “but I need my own place now. I’d like to move into one of the other cabins.”
“I guess you know about…the change in ownership.” Lana glanced from Fern to Craig, then back again.
“Yes. I talked with Ivy this morning.”
“Are you okay with it?” Claude asked. “We want to be supportive, but if you’ve got a burr under your saddle about it, best let us know now.”
“If you’re not happy about the situation and we run into trouble, we might never get everything done in time for Wild West Days.” Lana turned intent blue eyes on Fern.
“Lots of folks depend on us about this time of the year.” Alicia rubbed her hands together as if there was so much more to do.
“Folks depend on y’all all year long,” Craig said.
“True enough,” Claude agreed. “But in particular for this event.”
“I guess it was a shock to find out your sister sold her share of the Park to Craig,” Lana said.
“She’s been a real trooper about it.” Craig decided he’d better set everything straight before gossip got out that they were in a big fight over Wildcat Hall Park.
“We have the same goals,” Fern said, following up on his opening into their relationship. “And Craig loves the Hall as much as I do, so we’ve agreed to work together.”
“Hallelujah.” Lana put her hands on her hips. “So, that’s in place. All to the good. Now what do you need from us?”
“Time’s a wasting.” Claude glanced around the room, then back at Craig. “Were you looking to change something in here?”
“No thanks. We were just discussing how we were going to move forward with the Hall.” Craig was glad they hadn’t seen the slow dance, or they’d have taken a completely different spin on the situation.
“That’s right,” Fern quickly said.
“She wants that cabin next to mine,” Craig said. “Aren’t those folks checking out tomorrow?”
“Today.” Alicia looked from Craig to Fern. “Are you sure you want it? I mean, Craig’s got the big cabin and—”
“No,” Fern said. “I want my own place.”
“Okay,” Lana replied. “We’ll get it cleaned up and ready for you by late this afternoon.”
“Is four about right?” Alicia asked.
“Four is good.” Fern smiled at the group. “I need to pick up some clothes and supplies in town, so that works perfectly for me.”
“Don’t bother with supplies,” Lana said. “We’ll stock it with everything you need to get started out right.”
“Thanks. That’s a big relief.”
“Food, too,” Alicia added. “Some of our own specialties will get you back in shape in no time.”
“That’d be great,” Craig said. “Don’t tell anybody I told you, but y’all are the best cooks in Wildcat Bluff next to Slade Steele and his family.”
“Thank you.” Lana smiled warmly at him. “We do our best.”
“Looks like all’s right as rain.” Claude glanced at the watch on his wrist. “We’d best get back to work. We’re twenty-three minutes off schedule.”
Alicia gave Fern another quick hug. “We’re so glad you’re back. Now things can really move forward with the Park.”
“Thanks. I’m glad to be back,” Fern said. “Let’s catch up later.”
Alicia gave her a wink. “I can’t wait to hear all the news.”
As the Settelmeyers headed back the way they’d come, Craig looked at Fern. “Fine family. What would we do without them?”
“I can’t imagine. And I’m so glad I’ll have my own cabin tonight.”
“Can’t say I feel the same, but I do understand. I want you to be happy.” He returned her smile. He glanced around the dance hall, feeling a lift of his spirits. Maybe life wasn’t perfect, but it was way better since she’d returned to the Park…and him.
“I guess we ought to get on with our day. Where do you want to start?”
He glanced around again. “Nothing we need to do back here. Let’s go up front and look at the schedule.”
“Okay.”
“Later, you’ll want to settle into your cabin, so let’s get as far as we can right now.” He followed her, watching the sway of her hips in her tight jeans and feeling the same want and need as always, only now the lust—and the love—was fired by the overwhelming knowledge that he had to get it right this time.
