“The funny thing is, none of our time spent together is a blur,” he continues once we’re inside. “I remember every moment with you as clearly as if it happened yesterday.”
“You’re just saying that,” I tease.
“Why do you always doubt my feelings for you? Even when I’m on tour, I sing about you every single day. Don’t you recognize us in my music?”
“Your song is about me?” The question slips out before I think. I’d sworn to myself never, ever, to ask him directly about Blue Eyes of Heaven
“Who else has blue eyes the color of a clear October sky?” he asks. “C’mon Ginny, you’ve always known the song was about you. There are lines in the song only we would know the meaning to.” He’s telling the truth. Deep inside, I’ve always known.
“I know. I tear up every time I hear you sing it. The memories come flooding back so vividly that it rips me up every single time.”
“If you want to do something difficult, you should try singing it on stage with a broken heart,” he says. “It’s a killer. I’ve done it too many times to count.”
“When did you write the song?” I ask, now wanting to know every detail of the famous song.
“Not long after we broke up. I was sitting alone in a fleabag hotel on the outskirts of Nashville. Feeling alone and brokenhearted. I poured out everything onto a tattered piece of hotel stationary. It was several months later before I played the song for the first time in public. Harry was sitting in the back of the club that night and the rest is history.”
“It’s the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard,” I tell him.
“Written about the most beautiful girl in the world.”
We sit there in the truck a long time without speaking while watching the rest of the concertgoers wander to their cars and slowly drive away. I lean my head against his shoulder and sigh contentedly.
After a while, he turns his head sideways and kisses my hair. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” he asks. “You’re awfully quiet. Is something wrong?”
“I was just wondering if when this summer is over, if all we’ll have left to show for it will be another sad song.”
“Ah…Ginny. Who says the song will be sad?”
28
Luke
Way out on the ranch’s back forty acres…
“Are you ready to switch out yet?” Matthew sticks his head out the open truck window and yells to me. “If you’re getting tired, I can do it for a while.”
We’re taking turns loading hay bales into the bed of the Matthew’s truck. It’s a hot and dirty job. One of us drives, while the other picks up fifty-pound bales of hay and throws them into the bed of the truck. Once we’re done with this field, there’s another one just beyond. I’ve lost count of how many bales I’ve loaded in the past two hours in the intense ninety-five-degree heat. Tomorrow, I’ll be hurting for sure. My muscles are screaming from the strain. Lifting weights and working out in the gym must use a different set of muscles because I’m sure feeling the burn of pain today. Not that I’ll let Matthew know.
No way.
He’d never let me live it down that I couldn’t keep up with him on the ranch. He would tease me about going soft in Nashville. And he might be right.
“No, I’m good,” I yell back. I’ll pass out before I complain to Matthew. “Keep on driving. We’ll switch out when we head to the next field.”
Matthew lets out a loud chuckle. He knows I’m hurting. “Whatever you say, city boy,” he replies. “I’ll keep driving then. Be careful with your pretty boy hands and don’t cut them on the hay strings. Those things can slice your hand open before you know it.”
Thirty minutes later, he takes pity on me and stops the truck. Climbing out, he walks over and hands me a water bottle that’s warm to the touch. I take a big swig and sit down on the tailgate of the truck to rest a minute. We’ve both stripped off our shirts and sweat is streaming down our backs. I take a handkerchief out of my jeans pocket to wipe the sweat threatening to drip into my eyes. My jeans must weigh a hundred pounds.
“Why don’t we call it a day?” he suggests. “Isn’t Ginny supposed to be coming over soon? We can finish this in the morning.”
“I don’t want to stop,” I tell him. “There’s things we need to get done before I head back to Nashville. Making sure all the hay is cut and stacked in the barn is one of those things. I can’t leave you with this mess. How did you do it before?”
“Sometimes I’d trade off with helping other ranchers,” he replies. “They would come over and help me put up my hay and I’d do the same for them. Other times I’ve hired someone for a day or two. Either way, it always gets done. One thing about ranching is that you’re on nature’s schedule, not your own. I can’t leave crops in the field to rot just because I’m having a bad day. Or let hay burn up in the summer sun.”
“That’s for sure.”
“You mentioned trying to get things done before you leave,” he says, turning to stare at me. “Will you be heading out soon?”
I let out a long breath and finish off the water bottle before speaking. “There’s a big Labor Day concert Harry needs me back for,” I say, hanging my head. “That’s two weeks away. It’ll take me a few days to practice with the band and get back into the groove.”
“Meaning what, exactly?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at me.
“I need to go back to Nashville in a couple of days,” I say, unable to meet his eyes. “I can’t stay any longer. Not if I plan to make the second leg of the tour. Harry told me the record label is moving forward to sue me for breach of contract. For real this time. He said they’ll keep me tied up in court for years while I spend everything I’ve made on legal fees. They can’t force me to perform or record another album right now, but they can make sure I don’t sing for anyone else either for at least five years. They’ve got me tied up, lock, stock and barrel. I’m caught between a rock and hard place with no other options.”
Matthew slowly nods in understanding without arguing with me or judging. “Then we’d better get back to work so we can wrap this up,” he says. “You drive this time and I’ll load.” He points to a slim figure at the edge of the field. “Isn’t that Ginny coming this way?”
I take off my sunglasses and put my hand over my eyes to shield them from the bright sun. “Who else would be crazy enough to come out here in this heat?” I answer with a grin. “She’s carrying a cooler. I hope she has something cold to drink. Anything’s better than this bottle of hot water.”
Ginny waves when she sees we’ve spotted her. She’s wearing denim shorts that shows off her long legs that go on forever. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. When she’s closer, I walk over to greet her. Leaning down, I kiss her lightly on the cheek, being careful not to touch her with my dirty hands.
“Is that all I get?” she teases, gazing up at me. “A little peck on the cheek? I thought you would be a little more excited to see me.”
“My hands are dusty and I’m sweaty,” I say, wiping them on my pants, which doesn’t help much. “I don’t want to mess up your nice clothes. You smell clean and pretty.”
“Do you hear me complaining about a little dirt or sweat?” she says. “Because I don’t. I’ve never minded a man who has done an honest, hard day’s work.”
I raise my eyebrows at her.
“As long as that man is you,” she adds with a mischievous grin.
She opens the lid of a small cooler and hands me an ice-cold cola. “I thought you two might need a quick break and something to cool you off. I’m also here to volunteer to drive the truck if that will help you finish things up.”
“Hey Ginny!” Matthew throws up a hand in greeting at her. “I see you saved the day with a cold drink,” he says. “You sure know the way to a man’s heart.” He reaches out to take the can Ginny hands him. “Much obliged.”
“You’re welcome,” she says. “I swung by the house first before coming out here. Your dad and Li
ly are fine. The sitter said she could stay longer this evening if you need her to.”
“Ginny offered to drive the truck if you want to finish up,” I say to Matthew. “It might be the quickest way.”
“Are you sure?” Matthew asks before chugging down half his cola and wiping off his mouth. “Because if you are, it would help us out a ton.”
“Of course,” she says. She opens the door of the truck and searches for the bar to adjust the seat. “We’ve done this plenty of times before,” she tells Matthew. “It will be just like old times. Don’t worry, Luke taught me how to drive a straight shift years ago. I’m ready when you boys are.”
Matthew lifts his eyebrows at me. “I’m game if you are.”
“Let’s do it,” I say.
We finish our colas quickly and put the cans back into the cooler then hand it to Ginny to place in the cab of the truck.
“You’ve got one heck of a good woman there,” Matthew says up to me when Ginny pulls the truck forward a few feet. The stacks of hay are piled high in the truck. I’m standing up in the bed and stacking the bales after Matthew throws them up to me. “I don’t know many women who would volunteer to work in a hay field,” he continues. “She’s a keeper.”
“I know it,” I reply. “You don’t need to remind me.”
We work for another two hours in a steady rhythm until the sun begins to set behind the trees. The air is cooling down and we catch a second wind of energy. Only one small end of the pasture is left to do before we’re done. Ginny has turned the radio station up full blast and we’ll all singing along to the county music songs to keep us going. Every few minutes, she glances back through the truck’s rear glass to check on me. Leaving all this behind is going to rip my heart out.
It already is.
I honestly don’t know how I’m going to make it through the next few months without her constant presence by my side.
“Is it okay if I speed up?” Ginny yells back to us. “It’s getting dark, and I can barely see where I’m going. I don’t want to hit a stray cow.”
“Yes! Do it!” Matthew replies.
“There’s only a few more bales to go,” she yells back to us. “Hang on, fellas! You’re in the last stretch now. The finish line is right up ahead.”
We go into double-time with the lifting and stacking. Matthew is exhausted, not that he’d ever let on. Only his deep, laboured breathing gives it away. Matthew is one tough son of a gun and the best brother I could’ve ever asked for. Fifteen minutes later, we’re finally done.
When the last hay bale is loaded, Ginny turns off the truck. After uncapping a couple of waters, she steps out and hands them to me and Matthew. The three of us sit on the tailgate of the truck watching the sun slowly slip from sight behind the trees at the far end of the field.
“You can go anywhere in the world and you’ll never see another sight as beautiful as this one,” Matthew says, waving a hand at the acres of land spread before us. “This is God’s country.”
“Amen,” I say, agreeing with him.
Ginny snuggles closer and leans over to lay her head on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head and put my arm around her, hoping she doesn’t mind. The three of us sit there for a long time without speaking. Eventually the sun drops out of sight completely and the darkness engulfs us.
“We’d better head back,” Matthew says. “I’ll drive since I know the field better. There are several holes and ruts that we don’t want to fall into. It would be our luck to tip the truck over and lose the whole load of hay.”
“I’m too tired to move,” I say. “Ginny and I will sit right here in the back of the truck for the ride to the house.”
“Suit yourselves,” Matthew says, hopping down from the truck. “Hold on and don’t fall off.”
The ride back to the barn is slow. Matthew turns on the truck’s headlights to help him see where he’s going. Ginny and I hold on tight to each other, unable to see a thing in the pitch-black dark. I’d forgotten how dark it could be on the ranch. In Nashville, there’s never total darkness. Not with the glow of city lights always shining. In the country, dark means not being able to see your hand five inches in front of you. When we arrive back at the house, I jump down from the bed of the truck and lift Ginny out.
“I’m going to take a quick shower then take Lily and Dad into town for an ice cream cone,” Matthew says. “I’m not sure who enjoys it more of those two. Do you want to come with us?”
“No,” I say. “I need to start clearing a spot in the barn to store this hay.”
“It’s okay to take a break, Luke!” Matthew mutters, slapping a tired hand on the side of the truck. “Everything doesn’t have to be done today. It’s getting late. There’s always tomorrow.”
“Not always,” I remind him sadly.
He grows quiet, remembering what I’d told him about my leaving. Ginny doesn’t know yet. I hope he doesn’t say anything until I have a chance to tell her. I shouldn’t put it off any longer. Now is the time to tell her. It’s not going to get any easier, and putting it off will only make things worse.
“Okay then,” he says, already walking towards the house. “I’ll see you two later.”
I turn to Ginny and take her hand. “Want to help me in the barn?”
“Sure,” she says, falling into step beside me.
As we walk closer to the barn, a dark weight presses down on my soul. The moment I’ve been dreading all summer is finally here. Telling Ginny I’m going back to Nashville is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. At least the first time we split, she was the one going off to college and I was the one staying behind. Now I’m the one leaving. I wish like crazy there was any other way.
Once we step inside the barn, I switch on the one bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. She glances up at me with a casual smile on her lips that slowly drops when she sees my face.
Our eyes meet and my heart shatters into a million jagged pieces.
The pain is too much.
Ginny already knows.
Reaching up, she cups both sides of my face with her hands and holds me steady. “Don’t say a word, Luke,” she says softly. “You don’t need to. I can see everything in your eyes. Just kiss me. You asked for one more chance. Now I’m asking for one more kiss to remember you by.”
I grab her to me and crush my lips against hers in a desperate kiss, drinking in her sweetness until my head spins. Even knowing I’m leaving soon, here she is with me now, her lips soft and eager against mine. The ache in my heart threatens to suffocate me. After a few long moments, I slowly and regretfully break our kiss to stare down at her. Gazing into her eyes, I wonder if she has any idea how difficult it will be to walk away from her.
Even for a few days.
Much less weeks or months.
“Oh Ginny,” I whisper against her neck. “How can I ever make it without you? What are we going to do?”
29
Ginny
Luke’s last day…
I’m regretting my decision to swing by the house to see Luke off to Nashville. We said our goodbyes last night and that was heartbreaking enough. To see him tell his Dad goodbye, possibly for the last time, might be more than I can handle.
My heart is already breaking before I pull up to the house and step out. Luke told me he needed me here for support, so I didn’t have a choice. I can’t let him down, or the rest of his family either. For Luke’s sake, I need to put my own emotions aside and help him get through this.
I go inside the house and find Lily sitting at the kitchen table with a box of crayons and a drawing pad. I greet her with a bright smile, same as always. There’s no point in letting her see how upsetting Luke’s leaving is for everyone else. “Hi Lily,” I say, reaching down to smooth her thick head of curly hair. “What are you drawing?”
She points to the crude drawing of a stick figure man holding an oddly-shaped guitar. In the background is a tiny red house with a single yellow flowe
r beside it. “This is Uncle Luke,” Lily says, pointing to the man. “And this is your house. Yours and Uncle Luke’s when you get married. Do you like the flower?”
Tears spring to my eyes and I quickly brush them away with the back of my hand where she can’t see. “I love it,” I say brightly. “You’re doing a beautiful job. I love the house too.”
She smiles shyly at my praise. “I’m glad you like it. I’m giving it to Uncle Luke for a present. He’s leaving today. He’s a singer.”
“Yes, I know, sweetie. He’ll be back soon though. In the meantime, you can keep drawing pictures to give him. Okay?”
She nods happily, completely oblivious to my sadness. I’m glad. Children are tough and resilient. Lily has dealt with more than enough in her life. I take a deep breath to gain control of my emotions.
Luke calls down to me from the top of the stairs. “Ginny! Is that you down there?”
“Do you need help, Luke?” I yell up to him. “I’m here.”
“No, I think I’ve got everything,” he says. “I didn’t bring much. I’ll be down in a second.”
I almost burst into tears when I see him coming down the stairs with his guitar slung over one shoulder. His packed suitcases are already sitting at the bottom, ready to be carried out to the truck. Luke tries to catch my eye and I turn away, unwilling to let him see my tears until I can blink them away. I need to stay strong.
“Lily, come on over here and give your Uncle Luke a big hug,” he says. He kneels down on the kitchen floor and opens his arms wide for her. She runs over to wrap her little arms around him. “I love you, baby girl. You be good, okay? And take care of Matthew and your Grandpa. You’re the lady of the house so you have to keep them straight.”
Every Good Cowboy Deserves A Second Chance Page 22
