by Hebby Roman
“Um . . . not yet. I will, though.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” She left the room wondering about the mystery surrounding this elusive man and whether he was worth all the fuss. At this point, she seriously doubted it.
When Liberty returned to the kitchen, Tara had her laptop open and running. She logged onto her own and opened her yellow-lined tablet with all her notes.
“I’ve been thinking about it, Tara,” she began. “I’m going to leave the tents and paper goods to you. I’ll give you the supplies I bought the other day.”
“That’s good. The dollar store has placed an order, for what I think we’ll need, that should be here in time. I’ve also firmed up the menu with Meg.”
“Does she have enough staff to help her?
“She only has a cook at the café, but when she needs assistance, the whole town jumps in to help.”
“Wow, that hardly ever happens in a big city.”
“How sad.”
“I agree.” Liberty opened the Excel document she’d set up and entered Tara’s items. Perusing down her list of performers, she said, “Now, for entertainment, I have four out of eight confirmed performers coming from Nashville, four had scheduling conflicts and had to cancel. But, on the positive side, I have one confirmation from Country Gospel’s Pam Blackstock—”
“I knew Pam would be here if she could,” Lilah said, as she joined them at the table.
“She sounded very excited and said she’ll try to recruit some others to join in.” She saw the last name on her list. Jessie Duke. Connor had known the young singer might refuse his request to perform at the event, which was why he’d suggested she ask Lilah for help. “I do have one more favor to ask of you.”
“What can I do?”
“You know Jessie Duke, don’t you?”
“Sure, we aren’t mall shopping close, but we exchange Christmas cards.” She leaned against the back of her chair with a knowing look on her face. “Let me guess, Connor’s asked you to call her because he knows she’ll refuse his request.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“He’s such a rat turd,” Lilah said with a note of exasperation.
“I agree with you, but what did he do to her?”
“Last year he and Jessie were an item, and just before the holidays, she hightailed it back home to Fort Worth with no explanation. Neither one of them talked about what happened, but she was pretty pissed. Obviously, things are still prickly between them.”
“But you’ll ask her?”
“Yes, I will. She’ll be supportive of the cause, as she lost her little brother to cancer a few years back. She’s also been wanting to use our studio to cut her new album, so if she can fit it in with her schedule, she’ll do it.”
Liberty closed her laptop. “That’s perfect. We may just pull this together after all.”
“It’s too early to celebrate, there’re still things that could go wrong.” Lilah looked at the clock on the wall. “Callie will be home soon, and I need to throw something together for supper. I’ve already asked Daniel to stay. Tara, will you call Riley to drive out?”
“He’s supposed to close the shop early to help them work on the stage. I’ll let him know not to go home when they’re finished.”
As Lilah and Tara started working in the kitchen, Liberty headed to her bedroom to put things away. She’d wondered about seeing the cowboy, Daniel, again. Continuing to show up every morning to watch the sunrise was a little obvious. Maybe they could talk after supper and she’d find out more about him. Maybe he’d play her a song on his guitar.
Chapter Five
After their meal, everyone migrated into the living room to relax and play a round of Texas hold’em. Daniel hung back in the kitchen waiting for Liberty.
“I just made a fresh pot of coffee,” she said. “Want some or will it keep you from falling asleep later?”
“Hardly anything keeps me awake.”
Maybe a good woman. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been any of those around lately.
“Me either,” she agreed. “I swear I could drink a gallon of the stuff and tap right out.”
He took the mug of hot black caffeine and sat at the table. When she had sugar and creamed her mug of the same, he pushed out the chair in front of him with the toe of his work boot.
“Join me? I don’t much feel like getting fleeced tonight.”
“I’m not much of a card or game person myself.”
“Yeah? How come?”
“I’m too competitive, I don’t like not having control. At some point the game ceases to be fun.” She gave him a side glance. “And so, do I.”
A mad woman with a shoe flashed before his eyes and he grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Hmmm, yeah.”
“So, what exactly do you do in Nashville?” he asked.
“My business card says I’m an event planner, but I’d like to be a promoter someday. Getting started is hard.” She leaned against the chair back, resting her arm along the top. “Connor has helped with referrals.”
“I wondered how he came into play.”
“He was the initial reason I came to help Lilah.” She shrugged. “You know, those sticky little favors always have to be repaid. But after I got here, met her, and understood more about what she’s trying to do, I want to help as much as I can.
“Cancer in anyone is horrible, but in children it seems particularly vicious. DIPG is its own special brand of nasty.”
“Remind me what that stands for?”
“Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma,” she said. “It’s devastating. I’ve been reading about it. Did you know brain tumors are the leading cause of cancer related deaths in children under the age of ten?” She pushed her mug around in a circle, and he noticed the worry crease deepened between her brows. “DIPG has the highest mortality rate.”
“That much I did know,” he said. “We have an opportunity to do something great here with the money we can raise for research.”
“Which is why I’m reaching out to as many performers as I can think of to devote their time and proceeds.”
“Are you having any luck?”
“Half of the ones I’ve contacted have committed. Some have scheduling conflicts, but those have promised donations.”
“Where are you planning to put these people when they show up?”
“I can see that as a potential problem,” she admitted. “There are only a couple of motels out on the highway.”
Her eyebrows knitted together again and then relaxed. “You know, I have an idea. What if I call everyone back and tell those who have tour buses to bring them, and then we’ll advertise for folks to bring their RV’s or tents. Problem solved!”
“Whoa, Nellie,” he said, wondering where her mind was. “Have you not heard of Woodstock?”
“Well, yeah, but wasn’t that overly exaggerated?”
“No, not a bit. Look it up sometime.” He hated to douse her enthusiasm, but she had a real head of steam building, and this brainstorm of hers sucked swamp water. “Look, part of your idea makes sense.”
“Which part?”
“The one about having the performers with buses bringing them. Those can be parked either here or on my place. But I don’t think you want event goers staying longer than the day of the event.” He thought about that for a minute and asked, for he didn’t know what was going on in that noggin’ of hers. “You are only planning for one day, right?
“Well, originally, but I have been thinking—”
“Darlin’, trust me. You do not want folks hanging around for longer than a day. I think you’ll have a better turnout if the program is limited. It’s more immediate.”
He could see the obvious disappointment in her face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so open and animated with their feelings. In the short time he’d known her, he’d realized he could tell everything she was thinking. Eve
n now, she was trying to figure out how to regain control.
“Maybe, but I thought if we—”
“No.” Better to nip these thoughts now. He noticed a glimpse of the stink eye aimed in his direction, but she covered nicely, so he continued, “What about security?”
“Lilah and Jack already have that covered.”
“Good, I figured they would, but needed to ask.”
“Why are you so interested, anyway?”
“I’ve had a little experience in this area, and I’d like to see the event come off with a good time for all involved.” Too often, while playing and touring with Dy Tryin’, he’d seen the results of not enough planning or by not anticipating the size of the crowd. The consequences could be devastating. “Nowadays, there are too many wackos out there.”
“Jack’s ironing out the final details, so they tell me. Do you have any other questions or suggestions?”
“No, don’t think so.” That stopped her in her tracks. He could tell she was all geared up to go another round.
“All righty, then,” she answered, reluctantly.
Liberty couldn’t help but be disappointed. She was proud of her organizing skills and, for a reason she couldn’t nail down, she wanted him to know what she could do, for him to be proud of her. She’d never needed validation, she’d been raised to do without it. But for some reason, she wanted his approval now.
He got up and refilled their mugs and sat back in his chair. “So, what do you like to do for fun?”
“I hardly ever have time, but when I do, I like to go dancing or just listen to the bands play on Music Row.”
“Nashville’s quite an experience, that’s for sure.”
“It’s electrifying,” she said. “Have you been there?”
“Yeah, a long time ago.”
He grew quiet and scratched at a stain on the table cloth with his thumb nail. She wondered what she’d said to make him withdraw into himself. Something must have happened in his past to cause bad memories.
“My friends tell me it looks pretty much the same as it always has. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but if you ever come back that way, I’ll take you on a tour.”
Daniel looked at her and smiled. “I just might take you up on that. In the meantime, maybe I can give you a tour of our little town, if you’re interested.”
“What have you got? A stuffed longhorn or a giant jackrabbit?”
He laughed out loud and said, “I’ll go you one better, Mistletoe has a genuine honky-tonk.”
“I’d like that very much.” She had almost quipped that going to see a honky-tonk was on her bucket list but thought better of it. “I love to dance. Do they have a dance floor?”
“Yes, with sawdust and anything else you could imagine. How about this Saturday?”
“That’ll be fun. I haven’t been out in a long time.”
Daniel drank the last of his coffee, stood, and set his mug into the sink. Reaching in front of her to the middle of the table, he grabbed a toothpick and placed it between his lips at the corner of his mouth. “I think I’ll say goodnight and turn in. I’m bushed.”
“Are we on for Saturday night, then?”
“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at nine. I suggest you get plenty of beauty sleep.”
He had no idea who he was dealing with. Many a night she got home as the rooster crowed. “Don’t worry about me. You just be ready to dance your boots off.”
* * *
Saturday evening, after supper, Liberty laid out her favorite bootcut jeans, tee shirt, and leather belt. She’d bathed, washed her face and her hair, and slathered herself in her favorite lotion. She was slippery as all get out, but she smelled good.
Going into the bathroom she plugged the hair dryer into the wall plug and picked up her brush. The entire time she’d been in Mistletoe, she’d worn her hair twisted up on top of her head. Tonight, she would style it down and loose and maybe take a little more time with her make-up.
She told herself she simply felt like being pretty, that she wasn’t out to impress anyone. However, if a certain tall, slow talking cowboy happened to notice, well so be it.
An hour or so later, she turned off the light in the bedroom and walked toward the laughter coming from the front of the house. When she reached the living room, Daniel and Jack were talking, their faces lit by the Christmas tree lights.
Daniel stood when she entered the room. “You sure are looking pretty this evening. Goin’ somewhere?”
“Yes, I am. You promised to take me boot scootin’.”
“I did,” he said. “I’ve had my feet in a bucket of ice water all day gettin’ ready.”
“You’re so full of it.” Liberty shook her head and grinned at him. “No wonder your eyes are brown.”
Jack chuckled. “You two better get going before it gets nasty in here.”
With his hand at the small of her back, Daniel said, “Shall we, lady Liberty? Your chariot awaits.”
Tingles traveled up her back into her hair line and back down again at the gentle pressure of his fingertips. He held her jacket, while she slipped it on, and then grabbed his own from the hall tree.
Somewhere between the front porch and his pickup truck, she realized she could be in serious trouble, romance wise, with this one. She’d had infatuations or flings with other cowboys in the past, who looked good and smelled yummy, but none of them gave her goosebumps or made her heart skip beats. Climbing into the front seat of his cowboy chariot, she said a small prayer for guidance and a level head.
When he parked in the lot to the side of the honky-tonk, she realized she’d seen the building the first day in town, but that had been during the day. Tonight, the entire corner building was lit with colorful neon lights just like the bars on Music Row.
She entered the Watering Hole through a wooden door, ahead of Daniel, and then followed him to a small table on the outer edge of the dance floor. He held her chair and had just gotten seated himself, when a woman wearing an apron, tied at her waist, stopped to take their drink order.
“Hey, stranger,” she said. “Where’ve you been?”
“Workin’.” He stood, hugged her and said, “Zena, this is Liberty Hart. She’s helping Lilah with the fund raiser.”
Liberty nodded and offered her hand in greeting, but the woman, Zena, ignored her, never taking her eyes off Daniel.
“You know what they say about all work and no play, don’t you, Danny?” she crooned.
“Yeah, they say that’s an old cliché. Zena, if you don’t mind, we’ll order later.”
“Sure, I’ll circle back.” She made sure she rubbed against him as she went to the next table, making Liberty cringe. After Zena’s failed attempt in manipulating Daniel, Liberty watched the woman repeat her act on the next cowboy. It was deeply satisfying he’d seen through her guise.
Daniel leaned closer and asked, “I’m going to the bar for a beer, what’ll you have?”
“Same as you, thanks.”
While she waited for him to return, she took in the flavor of the place. The room resembled other bars she’d been in before. Various sized tables surrounded the dance floor and a small raised stage. A jukebox sat in a near corner, and there was a pool table all the way in the back. The bar occupied the wall on the opposite side.
Men’s voices at the front door drew her attention. As the group came into the bar, she realized they carried guitar cases. They must be the entertainment for the evening.
Daniel headed back toward her, stopping to speak with one of the musicians. He rejoined her shortly after and set a beer bottle in front of her on the table.
He nodded toward the group as they began to set up. “Looks like we’re in for a treat.”
“Who are they?” she asked. “Are they locals?”
“No, but they do have a local connection.”
Was he really going to make her guess? She hated playing games.
“Come o
n,” she cajoled. “I’m horrible at guessing games. Who are they?”
He gave her a professorial glance and relented. “They’re Lilah’s band. They just got in from their tour and came to play, so they could help out in promoting the event for Saturday.”
“That’s very generous. They do know they aren’t getting paid, right?”
“I’m sure Lilah’s told them.” He picked up his beer and touched the mouth of the bottle to hers. “Have a drink and relax. Don’t worry so much.”
“It’s my job to worry. That’s what people hire me for.”
“Not tonight, you’re not. This is your official night off.” The live music started, and he stood. Holding out his hand, he said, “Come on lady Liberty. I believe the first dance is mine.”
She took his hand and followed him onto the dancefloor. The song was a familiar one she knew to be a Lilah Canfield headliner. His arm encircled her, then firmly led her into a two-step. As they became part of the larger group of couples moving together in a circle as one, she didn’t notice any of the others.
He became her focus in the way he held her, gently yet firm as he guided her around the floor, firmly yet intimate in the way his body meshed with hers.
“Have you had lessons?”
His question jolted her back to the now. “I’m not sure I know how to take that. Are you giving me a compliment or making a rude commentary?”
“I swear, I don’t know who put that chip on your shoulder,” he said with a shake of his head. “But, I’d like to give him a fat lip.”
“I’ll remember that.” She’d flashed back to all the hurled insults from her ex-husband, Eddie the ass-hat, and realized she’d transferred those pent-up feelings to Daniel. “I apologize. Would you ask the question again?”
He looked at her strangely but complied with her request. “Have you had lessons?”
“Why?”
“Because you dance like you’ve done this before, and you haven’t stepped on my toes once.”
“Well, for starters, I was born and raised in Houston and you know where I live and work now.”
