Every Good Cowboy Deserves A Second Chance

by Maggie Miller

  I clear my throat before speaking. “See, that’s the problem. I don’t think two weeks is going to be long enough. My father’s not doing well.”

  Harry gives me his best sympathetic expression. It’s so insincere I almost roll my eyes.

  “He’s getting on up there in age,” he says. “All of our parents get old at some point. What are you going to be able to do for him there that you can’t do for him from here? Take it from me, your money will do more than hovering around him with good intentions. And you know where you’ll get that money from? From this tour. Go take some time to see him while we’re on break, then hire a caregiver. Or ten. Preferably young, pretty ones. He’ll be much better off with someone who knows what they’re doing. A gorgeous nurse will perk up any man.”

  I take a breath and remind myself to be patient. Harry can be hard to deal with sometimes with his one-track mind. All he cares about is keeping the money rolling in. It works well for me when he’s winning me gigs all over the country and negotiating sell-out shows, but not so great when I need to interact with a real human being with a heart.

  “That’s not going to work for me,” I tell him. “He’s got Alzheimer’s. He might only have a few months of sound mind left. From what I hear, he’s already struggling with reality. I want to spend some time with him before it’s too late and while he still knows who I am. This is important to me.”

  Harry places his hand over his heart. “I’m sorry, that’s so sad. I get what you’re saying, Luke, I do, but we both know big things are happening for you. Is it worth the risk to take time off right now? Does it matter so much if your dad doesn’t know who you are? You’re on your way to the entire world knowing who you are. You need to see the bigger picture here.”

  I try to ignore how incredibly insensitive he’s being with his remarks. “I need the summer off. A minimum two months or more.”

  “That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?” he says. “You haven’t even gone down there yet to check the situation out for yourself.”

  “I’m not asking for permission from you. I’m telling you that I’ll be gone for a while. I need you to fix this with the record label and explain the situation. We’ve been touring for several months solid without missing a single show for anything. I played even when I was dead to the world with the flu back in January and could barely speak. I need to go home.”

  Harry stands and folds his arms across his chest. He shakes his head, trying to control his irritation with me.

  “Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get this tour off the ground? How many hours of phone calls and meetings I put in to get this opportunity for you and the band? Things don’t happen with a snap of my fingers.”

  “And you know I appreciate it. I do. Some things are more important than playing shows.”

  “Playing shows?” He throws up his hands. “We’re talking the second leg of a major tour. Do you have any idea how much money this will cost all of us if you start canceling shows? I think you’ve got your priorities mixed up.”

  “That’s funny. My brother, Matthew, pretty much said the same thing in certain terms. Maybe I do have my priorities messed up. This is becoming very clear to me now.”

  “I’m only thinking about you,” Harry says in a calmer voice, trying another tactic. “The record label won’t be happy about this. If they can’t depend on you, they’ll find someone else to take your place. Country singers are a dime a dozen these days.”

  “I’ve brought in millions for the label,” I remind him. “The least they can do is give me a few weeks off to spend with my sick father. Life happens. Money and work isn’t everything.”

  Harry shrugs. “This is a cutthroat industry. The shows must go on. Tickets have to be sold. Seats need to be filled. If you’re not going to be the one on stage, the label will replace you. I’ve heard they’re already in talks with two more solo artists as warm-up bands for you. It wouldn’t be hard to slide them right into your spot.”

  I rise from the bed. “If I’m that easy to replace, then maybe I shouldn’t be in this business. I need the summer. That’s all I ask. Then, the label will have one hundred percent of my focus back again. I need this time and I need it right now. Not in six months when the tour is over or in a year. It has to be now. My dad doesn’t have time.”

  “Luke…”

  “You don’t understand, Harry, and I can’t expect you to,” I say. “I wasn’t there when my mom died. Are you asking me to go through that again? Some things are more important. The label can accept that I need time off, or they can rip the contract up and throw it in the trash for all I care.”

  His face turns the color of his red hair. “You’re playing with fire here,” he says, pointing a finger at me angrily. “This is your one big chance and you’re blowing it all!”

  “This is my family we’re talking about. I’m tired of talking about this. I’m going home and there’s not a thing you can do to stop me.”

  Without another word, I storm out and let the door slam shut behind me with a loud bang.

  4

  Ginny

  The noisy coffee shop and bakery is crowded with customers. It’s a favorite meetup place of mine and my best friend, Misty. At least once a week, we meet during lunch for chocolate lattes and a donut or two. Our outings give me an opportunity to hear all about her latest dating adventures.

  We always sit at the same table by the window and gossip about the people walking by on the sidewalk outside. We’ve been following the identical routine since we were teens and it never grows old. Time spent with Misty is always fun. Right now, she’s telling me about a disaster date she went on this past weekend. I sit with a grin on my face, listening to her talk.

  “Halfway through our blind date, I couldn’t take one more minute. I made up a quick excuse and ran out of there fast. Then I blocked his number from my cellphone. He was a weirdo.”

  I crack up laughing at her adventures. “Where do you find these guys?”

  She points to her phone placed face down on the table. “The wild, crazy world of the internet. Everything from dating sites to random Facebook dudes. Every app and website you can think of. And I keep getting duds. One right after the other. Each one worse than the one before. Sometimes I wonder where these guys come from. Is there not a single decent guy left to date in the whole state of Texas? I mean, surely there must be one man somewhere. Maybe I should widen my reach to another state?”

  “Maybe it’s time to try something a little more old-fashioned instead of online dating,” I suggest.

  Misty gives me a horrified expression. “You mean try to meet someone in real life? Or date someone I know? What is this? The fifties? Am I supposed to wait for a guy to ask me out for a milkshake at the local drive-in burger joint?”

  “It worked out for our parents just fine,” I remind her. “This internet dating stuff isn’t good. I worry about you meeting up with strangers too. I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  “You don’t understand,” she says. “I’m so much more attractive through a social media app’s filter. With a few clicks I can make my skin and hair perfect, plus take off a few pounds. If only we had filters in real life to make our eyes appear bigger and our teeth whiter.”

  “Haven’t you heard? We do have that. It’s called makeup.”

  She laughs and puts down her now-empty coffee mug. “You’re a good one to talk. What about you? When are you going to put yourself out there in the dating pool? All you do is work. You’re boring.”

  “I’m not into all that internet dating stuff. There’s no way I can go on a blind date with a stranger I met online. That’s not me. It would freak me out too much. Besides, my luck would be worse than yours.”

  “Which is probably why you’ve been single forever,” she says. “This is Sweet Rose Canyon. The population isn’t getting any larger. You’re not going to meet anyone new here. We know every single, eligible guy within ten years of us on either side. You need to
cast your net wide into the dating pool. Expand your choices. It’s the only way to find a husband.”

  “No, that’s not me,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t want to do that. It’s not worth it. Besides, I want to focus on my career right now.”

  She reaches over and pinches off a piece of my second red velvet donut and pops it into her mouth. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Ginny! Working at the drugstore? You’re already running the pharmacy. How much further up can you go in your job if you plan to stay in Sweet Rose Canyon?”

  “I know, you have a valid point there. My advancement possibilities are limited unless they open up more drugstores.” My voice trails off as a familiar face catches my eye through the window beside us. I can make out the stooped figure of Charles Collins slowly shuffling down Sweet Rose Canyon’s main street alone. He’s wearing a pair of light brown slacks with a white starched shirt and a pair of old boots. He’s walking aimlessly down the street, gazing down at the ground. I’m afraid he’ll fall off the curb right into the street or step in front of a car without checking for traffic first.

  I turn back to Misty in a panic and stand. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. That’s Luke’s father.” I point to him through the window beside us. “He shouldn’t be in town alone walking down the street. Something’s wrong.” I throw down a few bills to cover my coffee. “Call me later, okay?”

  “My lunch break is over anyway. Think about what I said. There’s a whole world of bachelors out there online. We just need to sort through them.”

  “I will.” I rush out the door and hurry across the street. Charles isn’t supposed to be wandering around by himself. I pick up my pace to catch him and gently place a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Hi, Charles. Where are you off to today?”

  He comes to a stop when I slide my hand down to his elbow and tug gently. He glances up, then around, as if he’s not even sure where he is. “What?” he asks, fixing me with a suspicious stare. “Who are you?”

  “Where are you going? Can I drive you somewhere? Or call someone for you? My car is right over there across the street.”

  Charles squints at me against the bright sunlight. “I don’t know.” He waves a hand aimlessly toward the shops up ahead. “I’m going to the store. To pick up some feed for the cows.”

  I don’t bother telling him that there’s no way he can carry a fifty-pound sack of feed. If that’s even what he’s doing, and I’m sure it’s not. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you home. Matthew might be searching for you. My car is parked right there.” I point to my car in front of the coffee shop. “I’ll drive you. I bet Matthew needs your help back at the ranch.” I’m amazed he’s made it this far. He must have walked three or four miles on foot from the ranch into town.

  He tries to step away out of my reach and seems reluctant to go with me. “No, I need to go into town and pick up things for the ranch.”

  “All right, Charles. What else do you need? I’ll go with you.”

  “Luke needs a pack of guitar strings. He’s been going on all day about those ed strings. I need to get some. My boy plays the guitar.”

  I don’t tell him that Luke’s been in Nashville for years. “I’ll pick some up later and drop them by when I visit tonight. How’s that? I know exactly the kind of strings he needs. Luke is a friend of mine. Do you remember when I used to visit the ranch?”

  Charles makes a few grumbling noises then thankfully nods and walks along with me and gets into my car without too much fuss. I put it into drive and head straight to the ranch. While we drive, Charles gazes out the window in confusion while his fingers fidget restlessly in his lap, folding and creasing the corner of his shirt tail. As we draw nearer to the ranch, he seems to perk up a little.

  “Are you Ginny? Luke’s girl?” he suddenly asks.

  I turn to smile at him, pleased that he remembers. “That’s right,” I say. “I’m Ginny.”

  “It’s been a long time since you visited the ranch,” he says.

  Longer than he knows.

  Seven long years.

  “I’m sorry about that,” I say. “I’ve been busy going to college and working at the pharmacy. I’ve missed visiting the ranch.”

  “You should stay for dinner,” he says. “Like old times. Evelyn keeps hoping you and Luke will get married one day.”

  My hearts tightens painfully at the mention of his wife, Evelyn. Luke’s mom passed away two years ago from cancer. I always loved and respected her. From the time I was little, she always treated me as one of her family members.

  I pull up outside the house. Matthew is standing on the far side of the front porch, his hand shielding his eyes from the summer sun. He’s peering out over the fields, his face worried and desperate. I honk my horn to get his attention and immediately see his expression flood with relief. He runs down to my car and opens the passenger door when he spots his dad. He gently helps him out of the car. Charles is unsteady on his feet, exhausted from his long walk. Matthew slips an arm around his waist to steady him when he sags and almost falls.

  “Ginny!” Matthew exclaims. “Where did you find him?”

  “He was walking on the sidewalk through town just past the coffee shop.”

  “In town? I was out in the back field. I wasn’t gone more than twenty minutes. How did he make it that far so quickly? Anything could’ve happened to him. He could’ve fallen into a ditch or been hit by a passing car. Or wandered into the woods.”

  “It’s all right,” I say, trying to calm him down. “He’s fine. He’s walked quite a way, though. He’ll be ready for a cold drink and a nap.”

  “Thank you for bringing him home. I’ve been absolutely panicking. I was just about to call the police and put out an alert for him.”

  “No need. He’s home safe and sound.”

  “Come on in. The least I can do is offer you something to eat. You should stay for dinner.”

  “I already invited her for dinner,” Charles pipes up to say. “Luke will be here any time now. He’s late. Evelyn is making a special dessert.”

  Matthew and I exchange worried glances over his head. “I’ll walk you inside, but I can’t stay for dinner,” I say.

  Matthew walks Charles slowly inside and settles him in the living room, then gestures for me to join him in the kitchen. He hits a button on the coffeemaker to make a pot of coffee and leans wearily against the kitchen sink.

  “I’m sorry about this. Dad’s living in another time period. He seems to understand that I’m thirty-two and have a daughter now, but in his head, Luke’s still nineteen. He’s barely seen him since Luke was that age. It’s no wonder that he can’t imagine him any other way. To him, Luke is still a teenager.”

  “The memories erase going backwards,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard this is to cope with.”

  “In the last six months, he’s become someone completely different. It’s heartbreaking to watch him become someone I don’t know or recognize.”

  I nod in sad understanding. The coffeemaker beeps and after taking two mugs out of the cupboard, he pours each of us a cup. “Did you talk to Luke about this?” I ask.

  “Yes, I did. Once I was able to get through to him, he said he’s coming home.”

  My heart soars. I can clearly see Luke’s face in my mind. Not the photos printed in magazines of Luke Collins at twenty-five with his model good looks and designer clothes. No, I see my Luke. The guy I knew and loved all my life. Every thought of him brings back memories of the long summers we spent together, swimming in the lake, riding horses through the fields, and evenings spent lying on a blanket in the bed of his pick-up truck gazing up at the stars.

  The same as with Charles, in my memory, Luke hasn’t changed either and I don’t want him to. He’s still nineteen. Young, handsome, and a dreamer.

  “That’s great news,” I say, trying not to show my excitement. “I’m glad he’s coming home to see Charles.”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to con
vince him to come home, but he surprised me. He said he’d book a flight right away. He’s promised me two weeks. Maybe he can stay for longer.”

  “That’s amazing. I bet you can’t even remember living under the same roof as Luke.”

  He chuckles at the memory. “Oh, I remember living with my brother,” he says. “It was like living with Elvis. Every morning I woke up to him singing at the top of his lungs in his bedroom. At night, I couldn’t sleep because of the sound of his guitar playing the same tune over and over. Now he’s haunting me. Every time I turn on the radio, there he is, still crooning away in my ear.”

  I laugh, knowing the feeling.

  “Music was all he ever cared about,” he says. “Dad would ask us to help him out with the cows and after an hour, we’d turn around to discover Luke missing. Dad would send me out to hunt for him and I’d find him playing the harmonica in the barn without a care in the world. With Luke, everything went in one ear and right out the other.”

  “Except when it came to music.”

  “You’re right there,” he says. “Nothing could turn Luke away from his music.”

  “Look at him now, though,” I say with a proud smile. “He stuck to his dream and now he’s a star. He was born to perform.”

  “No, he was born to be a Collins and to keep the family ranch going,” Matthew says in a bitter voice. “The same as me, our dad, and our grandfather before him. Luke made the choice to be a musician.”

  I understand where Matthew is coming from. The ranch is too much for him to handle alone, even without the added pressures of caring for Lily and Charles all by himself.

  “At least Luke’s coming home now to help,” I say.