She didn’t want to resent her talent. This gift that God had given her. She could see that now. So what did she do with it? How did she go forward, with a new faith, and a new attitude?
How did she go back to Boston with this faith?
She leaned forward, petting Jenna’s dog named Dog. Or Puppy. Or Buddy. It depended on who you asked.
“Yes, I have to go.” She scrunched her fingers through the silky soft fur at the dog’s neck and wrinkled her nose because the animal had been into something and he smelled like a garbage dump. She pulled back and he nudged her with his nose.
“Go away, dog.” Jenna pushed him back. “I think he got into the kitchen trash again. You’ll come back, though. Right?”
Back to their conversation. “I don’t know when, but I want to come back. I plan on it.”
“Getting married, having a few kids?”
Alyson laughed. “Buying an old house, being the crazy cat lady.”
“Right, staying single, not falling in love.” Jenna shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that.”
She would have to keep telling herself that, because she didn’t know her future. She didn’t know when or how she would come back to Dawson. First she had to deal with the past and with the career that had been hers for as long as she could remember.
And now her father was trying to get her a record deal. She remembered a time when that had been her dream. Or at least it had been the dream her mother had put in her mind.
“It makes it easier to leave.” Alyson stood up. “I have a few kids meeting me in the chapel for their last piano lesson.”
“Thank you for doing that with them.” Jenna stood up, groaning in the process. “This kid can’t come soon enough.”
“I wouldn’t have missed working here for anything. And Jenna, if I can, I’ll get back in time for the charity concert. And if you need anything, just call. I’ll do what I can from the road.”
“Thanks. I know this isn’t easy for you. And believe me, I’ll call.”
“Good, because I’m going to miss you.”
“We’ll all miss you, Alyson. All of us.”
Everyone would miss her.
Alyson walked away, down the path to the chapel. She saw the few kids with their camp counselor heading toward the chapel. They waved and she waved back.
Could this be the new plan, the new way of using her talent? The idea lightened her mood. She loved these children. She loved teaching them and watching them. What would it be like, to trade a career, a record deal, for this life?
What would they all say if she went home and told them she was through?
If it wasn’t for obligations, she would have done just that. She wouldn’t even have gone home; she would have called.
She would stay and be the crazy cat lady who taught local children to play piano. She smiled as she walked through the doors of the chapel. She loved that scenario. She could picture herself in a little house with a veranda, wicker furniture, and Etta stopping by to visit. She could see herself in her grandmother’s tie-dyed clothing, wearing big floppy hats and weeding her flower garden.
If only. It seemed as if her life had become a pattern of If Only.
The other thing she thought about was being onstage again. Sitting on the stage under bright lights, knowing the crowd sat in darkness, listening. Fear tightened in her chest and she breathed to release it.
She wasn’t going to fear. She no longer had to fear. If she kept telling herself, she might believe it. She might believe that she wasn’t afraid to leave here.
She couldn’t be afraid to face the world. Not now. She had prayed about it, and as new as prayer was to her, she had to believe that God wasn’t going to stay in this town, letting her face the world alone. He would be with her. No matter where she went.
The kids pulled her forward, out of her thoughts, and into their presence, where there was no room for fear. She let them lead her down the aisle to the piano. Their counselor, a woman from their home church, tried to calm them down.
“It’s okay.” Alyson hugged them close. “As soon as we start playing, they’ll calm down.”
They always did.
And so did she, now that she was playing for herself.
“Who’s going first today?” Alyson asked.
Becky, a girl of about twelve, raised her hand. “Can I? I’ve been practicing.”
“Go ahead.” Alyson sat on the bench with the girl. They were working on simple songs. Of course they wouldn’t learn a lot in two weeks of camp. But Alyson’s hope was that they would go home and find a way to continue. She had talked to the youth pastor of the church about helping to find teachers in their area who might donate their time to needy children.
The girl played through the page of the book they’d been working on. As she played, Alyson looked up, catching sight of someone at the entrance to the chapel.
Jason. He tipped his hat and nodded. And then he walked away.
Jason walked out to the arena. In fifteen minutes Jenna would join him and they’d work with a group of girls who were going to barrel race in the rodeo, and the winner would come back in two weeks for the charity event.
He had fifteen minutes to get a lot of crazy out of his system. He really didn’t like crazy. He’d had years of practicing keeping his cool, keeping his emotions under wraps.
To lose it now really didn’t sit well with him.
Because of a woman. Man, how in the world had that happened?
As he walked through the stable, he found Adam. “Could you work the controls for me?”
“The bull?”
“What else.”
“I thought you were giving that up.” Adam closed the door to the tack room.
“I am. Or was. Who knows?”
“Hey, it’s your choice.” Adam led the way into the arena. The overhead lights were off. It was hot and a little dusty. Barrels had been set out in a triangle pattern for the girls who would be practicing.
Adam left his side and walked back to the control panel for the bull.
Jason grabbed a glove and walked over to the mechanical bull. He climbed on, cringing a little with the effort of actually swinging his knee. He settled onto the back of the bull and wrapped his hand in the rope.
It wasn’t a real bull. It didn’t stomp. It didn’t rear up in the chute and try to cram his head into the gate. It wasn’t going to try to lie down or roll over in a narrow enclosure with him on its back.
It was safe. When had he become about safe? He pounded his hand into the rope and pushed his hat down tight on his head.
All his frustration settled deep inside him. He would work it out on the back of a machine that couldn’t really fight back. But he could fight through. This was familiar. He knew how to control this. He knew how to keep it together on the back of a bull.
And control felt good, even if it was this one thing, this moment.
He nodded his head and Adam gave the bull a crank and a twist. Jason felt the jolt, got strung out, his arm in the rope straightening and his left arm, his free arm going backward, jerking his body back, forcing him to lose his seat.
His head snapped forward and he fought to get control of his upper body. Chin tucked, he broke at the hips, bringing himself back to center on the next jump. The bull spun and he anticipated the move, holding steady, bringing himself forward when momentum tried to take him back again.
The bull slowed to a stop. He didn’t have to jump, didn’t have to escape pounding hooves or horns that would hit a guy upside the head. Instead, he climbed off. And for the first time since April, his vision refocused without dizziness, without spinning. His head didn’t pound.
He limped off the platform and across the arena, remembering how it felt to be in an arena with a crowd, with a real bull blowing hot air down his neck and kicking dirt into his face as he rolled away from pounding hooves. He pushed his hat, loosening it, and looked up, meeting Adam’s curious gaze.
“Well?” Adam
asked.
“I’m only seeing one of you and I still remember where I am.”
“I mean, did that solve your problems?”
“Nope.” Because he could ride a bull but he couldn’t shake a woman from his mind. He was no longer a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. It was a bad time to figure that out, when the woman in question was making plans to leave.
But maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe it was just settling down that mattered.
He could date and find someone who wanted to settle down with him in Dawson, on a ranch, with a few horses, some cattle and a couple of kids.
Somehow that version of the future didn’t make him feel better, either.
“The kids are on their way down.” Jason could see them heading toward the stable, a handful of girls and Jenna.
He had considered bull riding again. But being here, at this camp. That was okay, too. Having his ranch, and really living there, also a pretty good feeling.
Nope, going on the road wasn’t in his plans at all.
And before long, Alyson Forester would be a memory. He had kind of hoped he would forget her, but he’d never been able to forget Alyson.
Alyson left on Monday after the last day of camp and the rodeo. She had wanted to watch the final performance of kids whose lives she had been involved with. And it had been the best night of her life, watching those kids perform with confidence.
And now it was time to go. She stood on the porch with Etta, hugging her grandmother tight. A yellow house, lavender wicker furniture, and a woman who loved her, no matter what. Unconditional love, something she’d learned in Dawson. Alyson held on to her grandmother, and the moment.
She tried not to think about Jason.
“You don’t have to go.” Etta walked down the stairs with her, across the lawn to the car.
Alyson’s kitten ran across the lawn, brushing against her legs, tail twitching. She picked it up and held it close. She couldn’t look at her grandmother. If Etta had tears in her eyes, Alyson knew she would cry, too.
She thought she’d probably cry anyway.
But she had to go. She had to face her fears. That’s what it had come down to.
“I have to go.” Alyson put the kitten down and opened the trunk of her car. She had packed up last night, but she had her overnight bag to store. There were more clothes than she’d come with. Her new wardrobe, clothes that made her a part of Dawson, less a part of Boston.
She closed the trunk and turned to face her grandmother, facing her tears. “I have to go. I have to face my fears. I have to face my parents and forgive them. I have to talk to my sister Laura. I want her to know that it’s okay. She loves Dan. He loves her. They should be together.”
“Will it be that easy?” Etta put an arm around Alyson’s waist and pulled her close, hugging her again.
“It won’t be that easy, but I’ve forgiven her. And I do love my mom. I know she loved us the best way she knew how.”
She refused to acknowledge the smiling face that flashed through her mind. She refused to let herself think about him, about not talking to him for days, other than casual greetings as they passed one another at the camp. And she reminded herself of Andie’s warnings, that he’d break her heart.
But it wasn’t his fault. She’d made a decision to leave. But she would come back to Dawson. Maybe someday she’d come back and be the crazy cat lady who taught children to play the piano.
But first she had to be Alyson Anderson, pianist. Even if being that person scared her to death, shook her insides and made her want to run away, again.
“You’re stronger than you realize, Aly.” Etta kissed her cheek. “You’re an amazing young woman and I’m proud of you. I’m proud that you’re not running from your commitments. I’m proud of you for facing your fears. But don’t forget that you have family in Dawson.”
“I won’t forget.” She couldn’t forget. Memories were strong and she knew that each time she smelled honeysuckle or petunias, she’d think of home. She’d think of Etta.
And each time she saw a man with an easy smile, she’d feel her heart break all over again.
“Goodbye, sweetie.” Etta backed away from the car.
“I love you.” Alyson got into the car and Etta closed the door.
Jason watched Alyson drive out of town, but he didn’t go after her. Alyson had fears to conquer and she had a life that didn’t include any of them. He had to let her go.
Even if it wasn’t easy.
He walked into the Mad Cow and sat down at a table with a half-dozen local ranchers. They stopped talking when he sat down. But Clint Cameron finally spoke up.
“So, you’re just going to let her leave?”
“She’s a big girl.” Jason turned his coffee cup over for the waitress to fill it. She pulled out her order pad and he shook his head. “Just coffee.”
“Right.” Johnny Foster laughed. “And you’re an idiot if you let her leave.”
“She’s already gone.” Wasn’t that a country song? He shook it off and slid his attention back to the cup of coffee. He sipped the hot, black liquid.
“She doesn’t have to be,” Clint interjected.
“You know, I’d really like to talk about something other than Alyson.” Jason pushed his coffee cup back. “I have to leave.”
“Jason, come on. We’re cool.” Johnny Foster laughed. “It’s just that we don’t always have the chance to give you a hard time—not over a woman. We’ve never seen you like this.”
“Right.” Jason walked out the door, without a joke, without a comment to make things okay for his friends.
He didn’t have a thing to say that would make anyone laugh. He was done trying to hide behind a smile. People expected him to always be okay, to roll with whatever hit him.
And he didn’t think he could roll with this. The thought knocked him on his can.
Clint walked out the door, catching up with him. “You know, you could go after her.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Send her roses. Make sure she knows that you’re here when she decides it’s time to come back.”
“Is that what you did?” Jason pulled his keys out of his pocket, half wanting the answer, half wanting to sound like it didn’t really matter, as if he didn’t really mean it.
“No, I gave Willow room to be strong. I helped her realize she could make it. Oh, and that she couldn’t stand to live without me.”
“Right, well, Alyson is going back to Boston. She’s going to return to the stage and be who she was meant to be. And that’s her choice. That’s me letting her be strong.”
“And you think you’re going to just stop loving her?”
A conversation between two cowboys shouldn’t take this direction, that’s what Jason thought. It sounded like an episode of Oprah or like some sappy chick flick that made women cry.
“You know, Clint, I realize you’re married and Willow has helped you get in touch with your emotions, but I’m still kind of not so much into the whole touchy-feely stuff. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to head to the ranch and ride a bull.”
Because that felt like a man’s way to deal with emotions when things got a little touchy-feely.
Clint laughed. And even though Jason laughed as he got into his truck, his mind kept running back to the word love.
Chapter Fourteen
Alyson walked next to her mother through the concert hall in Chicago. It hadn’t been an easy reunion. Alyson really thought that her mother would never understand the pain she’d caused. Her mother would never get that being a concert pianist had never been Alyson’s dream.
But something good had come from all this. Alyson could now look at her family through eyes that saw more clearly. They didn’t need her. Her father had a business managing musicians from all over the country.
For years Alyson’s mother had told her that they depended on her. Maybe they had. They had needed her to build this business. They had needed her in the spotlight.
“What about your grandmother? Is she going to be here?” Caroline Anderson had held on to bitterness. It laced her tone, settled in her eyes.
“She has the flu. Andie is at home with her.”
Andie, your other daughter, Alyson wanted to remind her mother. She let it go, because she knew their mother couldn’t be pushed.
They’d had the conversation. Alyson had tried to get her mother to talk about Andie, about leaving her and taking Alyson. But the conversations had ended with Caroline saying she had done the best she could and hadn’t Andie had a good life.
“I’m sorry she’s sick. Alyson, about this recording contract. This is a chance that few people ever get. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“I don’t want it. I didn’t have a choice when I was younger, but now I do. This isn’t my life.”
“This is about Etta and Dawson. You’re not thinking clearly.” Her mother looked away. “I should have thrown that paperwork away. You wouldn’t have known about them if I hadn’t kept it. But I thought someday…”
“You knew that someday I’d want to know the truth.”
“Yes.” Her mom turned back around, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Whatever else you believe, you have to know I love you.”
“I love you, too. But Mom, I love Dawson. I love a cowboy from Dawson. That’s going to be my life.”
“I understand, Alyson. I loved a cowboy from Dawson, too.”
The words were whispered between them, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.
“There’s your sister.” Caroline stepped away, straightening her jacket and it seemed as if she straightened her emotions, pulling herself together emotionally with that movement.
Laura walked down the hall to greet them, looking shy, young. And Alyson didn’t resent her. Her sister was beautiful, with curly blond hair and a face that was beautiful and sweet. She’d never been a bad person, never mean. She’d always laughed and teased.
The wedding ring on her finger glinted in the lights of the hallway, mocking Alyson. But she wouldn’t let it be about what had happened, not when they had saved her from a huge mistake.
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