Every Good Cowboy Deserves A Second Chance

by Maggie Miller

  Matthew picks up the remote and turns off the TV. Dad slams his hands down on the arms of his armchair and turns around with a crazy expression on his face.

  I’m shocked to see his eyes take on an enraged glare I’ve never seen on him before. He’s always been a calm, mild-mannered man, patient and kind.

  “You turn that TV back on!” he says, pointing a finger at Matthew. “You listen to me, young man. I’m your father. Turn it back on. Right now.”

  “It’s a repeat, Dad. You can watch it in the morning. It’s already been recorded.”

  Dad slams his hand so hard on the chair arm again, I’m afraid he’ll be bruised in the morning. “I’m your father! You do what I say!”

  Cautiously, Matthew approaches Dad and tries to gently help him up from his chair. “I’ll turn on the TV in your room for you,” Matthew says calmly. “You can finish watching it there.”

  I draw in a sharp breath as I watch Dad begin to slam his fists down on Matthew’s forearms to try and shove him away. “Don’t touch me! I’m staying right here. Turn the TV back on. This is my house.” My dad’s eyes are like a man possessed, the warm twinkle that has always been there is gone. Replaced by something or someone that I don’t recognize.

  I fight the urge to step in between them or beg Matthew to give in to Dad’s demands. I don’t because I’ve already been told to mind my place once tonight. Truthfully, I’m not sure how to handle this situation anyway. It’s nothing I’ve ever dealt with before.

  I hold my tongue and stay out of it, although it makes a lump rise in my throat to see my dad behaving out of character, and to see Matthew the target of the sudden, inexplicable rage. No wonder he feels overwhelmed.

  Who wouldn’t?

  Dad is yelling accusations now about things that don’t make any sense. His voice is so loud and scary. The sound wakes Lily and she suddenly appears at the top of the staircase, gripping onto the bars of the banister with a fearful expression on her face.

  Matthew glances up at her. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he tells her while he’s still half-wrestling with our dad. “Your Grandpa just isn’t feeling well. Go on back to bed.”

  Lily turns and then runs back to her room, clutching a stuffed dog tightly to her chest for comfort. This is a nightmare I never expected to step into.

  “You don’t respect your own father!” Dad yells at him, so angry he’s spitting the words. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Turn loose of my arm.”

  Matthew doesn’t respond to Dad’s insults, and instead patiently weathers the storm until Dad has worn himself out enough to be coaxed upstairs. When Matthew returns twenty minutes later, I can see the total exhaustion and despair in his expression. He pours himself a lemonade and one for me, then collapses into the armchair where Dad was sitting. “Just another fun-filled day at the ranch,” he says before taking a long sip.

  I sit down on the sofa and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I shake my head. “What on earth is happening here? I’ve never seen him this way before. He’s never had a temper. Never.”

  “As you can see, he certainly has a temper now,” Matthew says. “And has for a while.”

  “Has anyone given you advice about how to deal with him when he’s in one of these moods?” I ask.

  Matthew throws me an exasperated stare. “Are you trying to say I’m doing a bad job?”

  “No! You’re too sensitive where Dad is concerned. That’s not what I’m saying, at all. I’m saying it looks tough, and maybe you need some outside help.”

  “I do need help,” Matthew confesses. “I need all the help I can get. That’s why I asked you to come home. I’m in over my head here since Dad has gotten worse.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Lily needs me to be a good father. I’m all she’s got. I have to spend so much time keeping Dad under control, she’s not getting the time and attention she needs from me. I’m spreading myself so thin that I’m failing them both. All I do is run back and forth between them. And the ranch, which is about to go under. If we have one more bad season, we’re done.”

  My brother has always been the strong one, the rock of the family. I always admired him and knew that no matter what came along, he would take care of it. Now I realize, I’ve always taken him for granted.

  “Something has to give, Matthew. This isn’t working.”

  “If I don’t get help, I’ll have no choice but to put Dad in a facility somewhere where he can get some real care.” Matthew’s voice breaks at the thought. “I don’t want to do that. It would kill me. Have you ever been inside a nursing home? He’s been a phenomenal father. It would be the worst kind of betrayal to abandon him and stick him away. He wants to stay here in his home. Mama would never forgive us if she knew we put him somewhere and locked him up.”

  “Then let me pay for someone to come into the house,” I offer. “Round-the-clock care. I can make it happen.”

  “I don’t think a stranger will be able to help. You saw how distressed Dad gets when it’s me trying to get him to follow a routine. Imagine how he would be if a stranger was telling him what to do. He gets so upset and angry. He needs familiar people around. People that care about him.”

  I reach out and place my hand on Matthew’s forearm. “There’s only so much you can do,” I say firmly. “You should at least consider the idea of getting some professional help. Who knows? It could be just what he needs. Maybe he needs more or something different than what you can give him. You should at least give it a try.”

  “Maybe,” Matthew says. “Bringing in outside help doesn’t feel like being a good son or loyalty to me.”

  “Loyalty is about what’s doing what’s best for him, no matter what.”

  “You don’t know what’s best for him,” he argues.

  “Maybe not,” I agree. “I’ll grant you that. But I know what’s best for you and for Lily. You’re run ragged here trying to do everything. Something has to give in this situation.”

  “Then help me. Please. I’m asking for your help.”

  I let out a long breath and hold up my hands helplessly. “The good Lord knows I’m trying. I promise you, I’ll figure something out. We’ll figure this out together. That’s what family is for.”

  8

  Ginny

  Misty’s mouth is hanging wide open in shock. She’s so intensely focused on my story that her bowl of ice cream is about to drop out of her hand. “No way,” she says, her brown eyes widening. “Luke is back? For real? And you talked to him?”

  “Yes, believe it or not. Luke’s back. It was weird seeing him again after all this time.”

  She adjusts her position so she’s sitting cross-legged on the sofa seat beside me. We’re having one of our girls’ nights in, but this is the first time in forever that I’ve had any gossip worth mentioning to bring to the table. Usually, it’s Misty who has the stories to tell. This time, I’m the one with big news.

  She flicks her auburn hair over her shoulder and leans forward intently. “How was it seeing him again? Give me all the juicy details. Don’t leave anything out.”

  A warm tingle spreads through my body when I remember the moment when he stepped out of the truck and we locked eyes. “Amazing,” I say. “Almost as if he’d never been gone at all.” I tuck my legs up under me. “I didn’t think I’d ever see him again to be honest. Seeing him again in person took me back in time. His eyes are still the same deep green I remember.”

  “I’ve always said his first song was about you,” she says. “The two of you still have something big going on.”

  I roll my eyes at her. Here we go again. “The song is not about me. Why do people keep saying that? There are a million other blue-eyed girls in this world.”

  Blue Eyes of Heaven has been a constant point of speculation between Misty and me since it was released a few years ago. She’s convinced the song is about me. I’ve always been adamant the lyrics are completely random, probably written to a popular country music trope at the time. We argue back
and forth about it at least once a week.

  “Of course it is,” she says. “You guys were always crazy in love. Even way back in middle school. I thought you were going to be one of those childhood sweetheart couples who elope, and sixty years later are still telling the story of how they fell in love when they were ten. You’ve got to admit that what you and Luke had was more than a casual fling.”

  “Luke meant everything to me,” I confess. “I’m not going to lie. It doesn’t change the fact that we were kids. The memories are wonderful. We were young and there’s nothing to compare to first love. You never forget it.”

  “See! Admit it! You were in love.”

  “Madly.” I smile at the thought. “I still remember the first time I saw him. I was sitting in Mrs. White’s math class in fifth grade. My family had just moved to Sweet Rose Canyon, so I was feeling awkward and shy, not knowing anyone. Luke walked into the classroom and plopped down in the seat across the row from me. He was all big smiles and full of energy. When Mrs. White went up to the blackboard and turned her back, he leaned over and slipped me a forbidden stick of gum. From then on, the two of us were inseparable.”

  I lift my bowl and take a small bite of butter pecan ice cream. “Luckily my family’s ranch backed up to his,” I continue. “Every afternoon after school, we would ride our horses and meet at the boundary of our properties to decide what mischief we should get into. Luke never ran out of ideas. Those were the best days of my life. Luke was my everything.” I try not to become a little sad for a time that I can’t get back.

  “Aw…,” Misty sticks out her bottom lip and frowns. “It’s so sad it ended between you two. How does he look now? Is he as handsome as he is in the magazines?”

  “Better. I always thought he was the most handsome guy I’d ever seen. His eyes still have that devilish spark in them. When he smiles, it’s still kind of boyish.”

  “Wow,” she says, letting out a wistful breath. “You’re so lucky, Ginny.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ll be dating Luke Collins. Women would kill to be in your position.”

  “Where’d you get that idea from? Yeah, I saw him. Big deal. It doesn’t mean anything will come of it.” I shrug nonchalantly. “I probably won’t see him again while he’s here. I bet he’s going to have people all over him the whole time. Or maybe he’ll try to avoid the crowds and stay isolated out at the ranch with his family. Either way, I doubt our paths will cross again.”

  “You’re such a cynic,” she says. “You were crazy in love once. Why couldn’t it happen again? Give me one good reason.”

  I try not to show how the thought sends my heart racing. “What would he see in me now? He could have any woman he wants. Even models or movie stars. I know he dates a few of them. I’ve seen the photos in tabloid magazines at the grocery store checkout line.”

  “But what if he wants you instead?”

  I let out a long sigh and finish my bowl of ice cream before answering. “Then it would only be temporary. Honestly, it would cheapen what we had. When he left to go back to Nashville, I would feel different about him the second time around. I don’t want to go that route. What we had was something close to perfect. I don’t see how it could ever be the same again. It’s probably best to keep the time we had as a special memory, nothing more. Some things are best to be kept in the past.”

  “Well if you ask me, you and your ‘special memories’ are going to die alone,” she says. “Just remember that when you turn him down. You’ll regret it if you do.”

  “Misty! That’s mean!”

  She starts laughing, and I know her insults are only joking, but there’s still some truth in her words.

  “Seriously, Ginny, who have you been out with in the last seven years? Either you’ve been pining for Luke this whole time, or you’re determined to be an old spinster. You could have settled down with a million other guys during this time, and you haven’t. Then as soon as Luke shows up again, you’re running in here as excited as if he’d just proposed. You still have unresolved feelings for him. You can’t deny it. Why try? I’m your best friend and I know you too well.”

  “I’m just saying that it’s impossible for anything to happen between us. He’s a huge star in Nashville, going on tours all over the country, and I’m just regular, boring me.”

  “You were enough for him before. Don’t let yourself get blinded by all the press and fans. I’m sure Luke is still the same guy deep down. Everything else is just unimportant fuzzballs, as my grandmother used to say.”

  “His insane stardom and groupies are just ‘fuzzballs?’”

  “They are,” she says. “If he was that unreachable, would he be back home in the first place? Luke still cares about his family, and I’d bet anything that he still cares about you. You’ll see. Just keep an open mind and give it a chance.”

  I don’t say anything. I’m not sure how I feel about Luke Collins. Seeing him was a shock to my system. She’s right about one thing. No man has ever come close to making me feel the way Luke did when we were young. I loved him with everything I had in me. Maybe I’ve put him on a pedestal, and whatever we once had will only ever be a fond memory. Or, maybe I should take her advice and let myself hold onto that tiny little hope that the man I fell in love with might still have special feelings for me, too.

  “I promise to keep an open mind,” I say. “And that’s all for the time being.”

  Misty grins back at me. “This is going to be one hot summer.”

  9

  Luke

  I wake up in the small double-size bed in the house’s loft bedroom and stay perfectly still. It takes me a minute to remember where I am. The loudmouth crowing rooster sitting on the tin roof right outside my window is the first clue I’m back on the ranch.

  When I was touring, I learned to sleep anywhere in all kinds of conditions. The tour bus, couches in cluttered offices, generic hotel rooms. The days and nights ran together in an endless blur. A peaceful night’s sleep was a rarity. It feels good to be awakened by the sounds of my old home.

  I open my eyes to see the hand-carved posts of the four-poster bed from my childhood. Through the slightly open window, the breeze carries in the smell of freshly cut hay from the big field behind the house. The sound of sizzling bacon drifts up from the kitchen downstairs. The country life has its benefits for sure. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn.

  I could have slept for days.

  Rolling onto my side, I notice my cellphone is flashing furiously. I groan, then reach for it. Scrolling down the screen, I count the notifications. Twenty-one missed calls. Eight messages. Six voicemails. All from my manager, Harry.

  I listen to the first voicemail wearily, still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Harry’s irritated voice snaps on the line. “Answer my calls, Luke! The big shots over at the record label have a load of questions about your sudden disappearance, and we need to do some fast damage control. What am I supposed to be telling these people? You can’t just drop off the face of the earth and not return my phone calls.”

  I cut off the voicemail, mumbling under my breath. I don’t bother listening to his other calls, knowing they’ll all say the same thing, with him getting louder and angrier each time. I’ve only been gone a day. How am I going to get through two months of constant phone calls?

  I cut short the next part of my regular morning routine, which is to scroll through my social media pages. Many people have advised me not to do that because the internet has no filter, and you never know what you’ll read about yourself. I’ve never been able to stay away, though, especially when there’s something going on. It’s not vanity, but panic that drives me to check what rumors are floating around about me. Now that I’ve temporarily disappeared, there’s no telling what my fans are saying. I read the first comment on my page.

  I’ve heard Luke Collins has canceled his next four shows. What’s so important that one man thinks he has the right to let down thousands of fans?


  I blow out a heavy breath and place my phone face-down on the bed. I bury my head briefly in my hands. I can’t help feeling guilty about cancelling shows and letting my fans down. No matter what I do, there’s always someone getting mad at me.

  On one hand, I have thousands of fans who’ve spent money buying tickets or were attending my concert in celebration of something special that I’ve now abandoned. On the other hand, Matthew has spent months trying to get me to come home because our father’s condition is deteriorating.

  I can’t win in this situation. I’m sure the rumors about me are spreading like wildfire. My disappearing act might do real damage to the career I’ve worked so hard to build. And there’s not a thing I can do about it.

  My family comes first and from the delicious smell wafting up the stairs, bacon is cooking downstairs. I can’t remember the last time I had a full country breakfast of biscuits and gravy, bacon or sausage, fried eggs over-easy, and a strong black cup of coffee. Every time I tried to order it for breakfast on the tour, someone would be quick to remind me that a protein shake or smoothie would be much better for my energy and health.

  Sometimes a man just needs to eat what they want. It’s already getting old having people tell me what I’m supposed to be doing or not doing every hour of the day.

  I head downstairs to find Matthew running around after Lily while the bacon sizzles in the pan. It’s starting to smoke and about to burn.

  He glances up when I enter. “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

  “It’s nine am,” I point out, waving a hand at the grandfather clock in the corner.

  “Yep,” he says. “A full four hours since I got up. I’ve done half a day’s work already. It might as well be the afternoon.”

  I cross the kitchen over to the frying pan and pick up a fork to turn the bacon before it burns to a charred crisp. Quickly, I turn down the heat while watching Matthew struggle with Lily. He’s trying to put her foot into a pair of shoes.