Wrangling the Cowboy's Heart

by Carolyne Aarsen

  Jodie glanced at the next picture. Denise in the hospital again, holding a baby, looking maternal and gentle.

  Tough competition, Jodie thought.

  She shook it off, but as she turned back to Finn, she wondered if he compared her to Denise.

  “She seemed like a good person.”

  “I am thankful she was in my life.” Then he smiled at her. “Just like, right now, I’m thankful to have you here.”

  The light in his eyes and the grin on his well-shaped mouth were both encouraging and inviting. So she stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss over his mouth, as if claiming him. Reminding herself that she was here with Finn. Not Denise.

  “So you ready for me to make you something to eat?” he asked.

  Jodie felt a gentle settling in her soul. “Yes. I am.”

  “Then, sit down and observe a master at work,” he said, pulling out a loaf of bread. “You need to know that I make the best grilled-cheese sandwiches this side of Saddlebank.”

  “Put a pickle with it and I will acknowledge your culinary mastery,” she teased.

  Finn laughed, buttering the bread. As he got cheese out of the fridge, Jodie couldn’t help glancing once more at the pictures on the mantel. Denise seemed to be looking at her. Judging her.

  I fall short, Jodie thought. But I’m trying.

  And that was all she could do.

  * * *

  “I like this color,” Brooke said, fingering a swatch of gauzy material etched with swirls of pastel pink and blue and green. “What do you think?”

  Like an Easter egg, Jodie wanted to say, but wasn’t sure that Brooke had taken her along for her artistic input.

  “The colors are lovely,” she prevaricated.

  Brooke frowned at the vague comment. “I’m guessing you don’t like?”

  “I like it, but I’m thinking of what Mandie’s music is like. A bit edgy, avant garde and yet approachable. I think you might want to emphasize that concept.”

  Brooke bit her lower lip, destroying what was left of her pink lipstick. “What did you have in mind?”

  “What do you think of sticking with a basic white-and-black concept?” Jodie suggested.

  “Sounds stark.”

  “Yes, but if we use lots of sheer white material for a backdrop, add some black accents, either musical notes or musical scores, then use some of those black metal stands you showed me to hold vases of bright red roses, all of varying heights, I think it could look dramatic and elegant at the same time.”

  Brooke was still frowning and Jodie immediately regretted giving her input. “I’m no decorator...”

  “But you have a unique sense of style,” Brooke said wistfully. “You always did. I mean, look at you now.”

  Jodie glanced down at what she wore. A simple shift over leggings, belted with a scarf, a cluster of cheap gold chains around her neck. “This is nothing special. Found this at a bazaar in Bangladesh, and the pants are from a thrift store.”

  “You do have a knack for pulling it all together and standing out. Always did. Even when you and your sisters were younger and were here in the summers.”

  “Again, thrift store.”

  “Your dad was that broke?”

  “No, my mom was that broke. My dad never let us go shopping here. The only time we went to town was when he took us to church or we went to stay at friends’. Approved friends. The Bannisters and you for my sisters, Clair for me. He was pretty strict with us.”

  And before she could see more denial of her father’s personality on Brooke’s face, Jodie moved over to another display, fingering the bolts of material, wishing she hadn’t gotten pulled down this memory lane. She was tired of feeling as if she might have imagined everything her dad had done to her.

  “What do you think of this?” she said, pulling out of the bargain bin a bolt of cloth that had a faint silvery sheen to it. “It’s cheap enough that we could use lots of it and fill the front of the church.”

  “I like that a lot,” Brooke said as she pulled some off to see how it draped. “Let’s take it. Now I need a few things to make centerpieces to put on the hors d’oeuvres tables after the performance. There’s a craft section on the other side of the store.”

  They poked around, looking for items, laughing about some of the more outrageous ideas they came up with.

  “This is like planning a wedding,” Jodie declared as they chose candleholders and runners, trying to bring the white, black and red theme into the centerpieces.

  “It is, isn’t it?” Brooke said. “The last time I did this was with Denise...” She stopped herself, looking agitated. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring her up.”

  “She was your friend?” Jodie asked, unable to stifle her own curiosity about the woman who once held Finn’s heart.

  “She was a real sweetheart.”

  “So I understand.”

  Brooke gave a wistful smile. “I was so happy for Finn when he started dating her. His own mother was so undependable. As you well know. That’s the reason you’re playing at the festival instead of her. But Denise. She was a rock for Finn. Someone he could rely on. Such a strong Christian and just what he needed.”

  Each word Brooke spoke hooked like a barb in Jodie’s soul. She sensed Brooke was simply being honest, but as she talked, Jodie knew she was more like Finn’s mother in personality and behavior than like Denise.

  And the thought hurt more than she wanted to admit.

  “And it’s been four years since Denise died?” Jodie asked.

  “Four years ago on the day I met you and Finn at the church,” Brooke said, setting everything on the counter. “I can’t believe he forgot. He goes every year to put flowers on her grave.”

  Jodie thought of Finn’s visit to a grave the day of her father’s funeral. Initially she had thought it was his dad’s, but now realized it must have been Denise’s.

  The salesclerk rang up the purchases and Brooke pulled her purse off her shoulder to pay, then let out an exclamation. “Oh, no. I left my wallet at home. Stupid me.” She turned to Jodie with an apologetic smile. “Do you mind paying? I’ll reimburse you as soon as possible.”

  Jodie glanced at the total and did a mental calculation of her own funds. She had paid a few bills yesterday that might not have gone through yet.

  She would have enough to cover this, she told herself.

  She swiped her card through, then felt her heart sink as the word denied popped up.

  “Try again,” she told the clerk. “I might have punched in my PIN wrong.”

  But once again that heart-sinking word flashed on the screen.

  Of course this had to happen in front of Brooke, friend of Denise, who probably never had a bank card declined.

  “Sorry,” Jodie said to Brooke. “I can’t cover this.”

  “What are we going to do? I don’t have time to come running back here again,” she whined, rubbing her finger alongside her nose as Jodie slipped the useless bank card back in her purse, trying to think what she would do herself. Yes, she had some money in her savings account, but she would run out of that before she finished her two-month stint here.

  Once again the irresponsibility of her lifestyle hit her hard. Once again she heard her father yelling at her to set money aside for a rainy day, whatever that meant.

  Brooke rummaged through her purse again and then with a triumphant cry pulled a credit card from its depths. “I’m so sorry. I forgot I left this in here last time I used it,” she said. “I’m so scatterbrained.”

  Jodie smothered a flush of resentment as the other woman paid for the purchases. If it wasn’t for the flush that stained Brooke’s cheeks, Jodie might have thought her act was deliberate.

  They walked out of the store and it wasn’t until they got into Brooke
’s car that she turned to her. “I’m so sorry,” Brooke said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”

  “It’s fine. I thought I had enough in my account. I’ll just need to make a transfer.” Jodie needed to talk to Drake, her father’s lawyer. He had mentioned funds she could access.

  “But still. I hate it when something like that happens to me. I feel so useless. So irresponsible. It’s so embarrassing.”

  Please stop reminding me, Jodie mentally pleaded. “I guess we’re even now,” she said, giving Brooke a pallid smile.

  “What do you mean?” Brooke looked genuinely puzzled as she started up the car.

  “That summer. Before I left?”

  She frowned. “No. Sorry, I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t remember me and Jaden Woytuk sitting in the gazebo when you walked by? We said some unkind things.”

  Brooke slowly shook her head, as if trying to dredge up the memory. Jodie could tell the moment the quarter dropped, as her dad liked to say.

  A pained shadow flitted over the woman’s features and she looked ahead, her hands tight on the steering wheel.

  “You remember now, don’t you?” Jodie said, her voice subdued.

  Brooke nodded and pulled into the traffic flow.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jodie said, doubting that Denise had ever done anything so unkind. “I wasn’t a good person back then.”

  Brooke gave her a vague smile, then turned her attention back to her driving. “It was a rough year for you,” she said. “I heard about you skipping the audition. I’m sure you had your reasons. Every time I saw your father at the café, he mentioned it. Said how bad he felt for you.”

  Jodie pressed her lips together, fighting down the urge to set the record straight. “So why did you tell Finn to be careful?” she asked.

  Brooke pulled in a slow breath, as if considering her next comment. “It was legitimate, I guess. I knew Finn was attracted to you once before. You’re still kind of fun and interesting, like you were when you and your sisters came to visit. I also know that after Denise died, he fell into a deep funk. I just wanted him to make sure he wasn’t moving too quickly with you. I didn’t know you would be sticking around.”

  Jodie felt like she should be insulted, but instead found herself envious of Finn and the community around him. People who cared what happened to him.

  How long had it been since she’d felt that? Had she ever? Bouncing back and forth between Knoxville and here hadn’t ever given her a sense of continuity in her life.

  And now? She could be a part of this if she made smart choices now.

  “I don’t want to interfere.” Brooke was quiet a moment, then laughed, giving a self-conscious shrug. “Who am I kidding? Of course I want to interfere. I like Finn. And I haven’t seem him smiling like this in a long time.” She grew serious. “But I think it’s only fair to let you know that Finn is a straight shooter. His mother disappointed him so many times. I still remember his face whenever his baseball team would play and his mother promised to show up and didn’t. It happened to him so many times it was heartbreaking.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  Brooke tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, then shot Jodie an apologetic look. “I know your past and how hard it must have been, getting shunted between here and your grandmother’s home in Knoxville. But the reality is you do have a bad reputation here. I know Amy wasn’t crazy about you playing for Mandie, and she’s been trying to find someone else, but you’re here and Finn’s mother isn’t. I just hope that...that...”

  “I don’t let Finn down.”

  “Kind of, yeah.”

  Her words were probably not meant to hurt, but they did. Jodie thought of Amy and the disapproval that emanated from her like a wave. It seemed she wasn’t keeping her opinions to herself.

  Jodie hid her pain, turning to watch the landscape flow past as they headed back to Saddlebank.

  Bad reputation.

  She knew it herself, but hearing it from Brooke created another stream of questions.

  Should she encourage Finn at all? Was she wasting her time and his?

  Yet despite her concerns, she felt a rightness with Finn she had never felt with Lane, or any other man. For the first time in years, as they drove back to Saddlebank, she had a sense of heading home.

  Could she do this? Hadn’t she always promised herself she would remain true to who she was?

  And yet, as she thought of Brooke’s comment about Finn’s happiness, vaguely attributing that to her, Jodie felt a peace she hadn’t experienced in a long while.

  If she had to change to make Finn happy, she could do that. Couldn’t she?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Finn yanked open the door of the church, glancing at his watch as he did. He had promised Donnelly he would cover the night shift again, but he wasn’t due back at work for another hour. He knew Mandie was coming today to run through the music with Jodie, and he wanted to make sure everything was okay.

  Had nothing to do with possibly seeing Jodie again, he told himself, yet his heart jumped at the thought.

  Silly and scary how that woman could do this to him. A few weeks ago he had a plan in place for his life, and now he was thinking of ditching it. Going for broke, as Jodie had teased him about.

  He had talked to Dr. Wilkinson, the owner of the ranch he rented, and to his surprise the doctor had been encouraging. Thankful, even, that Finn had finally made a decision. Apparently his hesitation had made Wilkinson wonder if Finn was still interested in purchasing the property.

  Now things were shifting and he was stepping into unfamiliar territory. Was Jodie part of this?

  The thought made Finn anxious. He was being cautious, but he had a right to be.

  He heard the sound of a piano, a voice speaking over the music and he hurried his steps. Jodie was here already and, from the sounds of other voices talking he heard, Mandie, as well.

  When he stepped into the sanctuary, Finn immediately looked for Jodie. But he didn’t recognize the person sitting at the piano. Hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. White shirt. Black slacks.

  Mandie stood on the stage, holding a microphone, consulting with a man who wore a headset. Her sound guy?

  Finn glanced around the church and his heart sank. Amy sat in the front row, turned back to chat with a couple other strangers seated behind her. Probably more of Mandie’s crew, Finn thought. Laura, Jodie’s aunt, sat a few seats back.

  But there was no sign of Jodie.

  Had she bailed on him? And if she had, who was at the piano?

  Then Mandie walked over to the pianist and talked quietly to her. The woman nodded, then glanced over her shoulder as Mandie walked back to her sound person. Finn stopped in his tracks.

  The stranger at the piano was Jodie?

  Why was she dressed this way? Had Mandie asked her to change her style of clothing?

  He wandered into the sanctuary, feeling off-kilter at the sight of Jodie looking so...conservative.

  She wasn’t even wearing earrings.

  Then she saw him and her smile and wave settled his concerns. Just Jodie being Jodie, he thought, making his way up the aisle.

  “How is it going?” he asked as she got off the bench and came to join him.

  Her smile shifted, looked more forced as she glanced past him to where Amy sat. “Mandie just needs to check the sound. But we’re making headway.”

  That seemed an odd way to put it.

  Then Mandie came back again and Finn turned to her, holding out his hand. “Good afternoon. I’m Finn Hicks.”

  “Ah. Then, I would suppose that Christie is your mother?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here.�
��

  “I am, too.” The performer gave him a tense smile, then shot a quick glance Jodie’s way.

  “Is everything okay?” Finn asked.

  “Everything is fine. No problem.” But the hasty way she spoke and her artificial humor made him think there was, indeed, a problem. Mandie gave Jodie a nod. “Shall we try it again? From the top of the second song. And I’d like to see if we can’t inject some life into the piece?”

  Jodie looked Amy’s way, sat down at the piano again and, on Mandie’s count, started playing. She fumbled the first few chords, found her way back and then abruptly stopped. “Can we try again?”

  Mandie didn’t even look at her, just nodded.

  Finn heard Amy’s heavy sigh as she got up. If he were honest, he’d admit to feeling nervous himself. He stepped back, wondering if his presence wasn’t making Jodie anxious.

  “Finn. Can we talk?”

  Amy stood beside him, tapping his arm to get his attention.

  Laura looked over at them, her expression concerned, but she stayed where she was as Finn and Amy walked to the back of the sanctuary.

  “I have to tell you that I’m worried about Jodie playing this Friday,” Amy was saying. “I know we’re pressed for time, but I think we need to find somebody else.”

  As they spoke, Jodie started playing again, but her accompaniment sounded stilted compared to how he knew she could perform. He tamped down his own second thoughts. Jodie was just nervous. That was all.

  “Were you thinking of asking Laura McCauley?” Was that why Jodie’s aunt was here?

  Amy waved off that suggestion. “No. Not at all. She’s just being a lookie-loo.”

  “I though Jodie was doing fine?”

  “Mandie Parker is not the kind of person you play ‘fine’ for,” Amy said, making little quotes with her manicured fingers. “She needs excellent. Is there any way, any way at all, you could contact your mother?”

  Finn thought of the endless text messages he had sent his mom before Jodie showed up, the vague replies and then the silence that was typical of communications with his mother. “No. I don’t think I can.”