Music had gotten Greer through hard times, but in the end, music had abandoned her. How could she wield music as a healing art when she had stopped believing in its magic?
The court decision gave her no choice but to return and wrestle wits with a fifteen-year-old delinquent. “I’ll be back on Friday.”
“Hang on. You handled Ally so well, I have another difficult assignment for you to tackle. One a little closer to home.” Amelia opened a desk drawer and pulled out a folder, laying a hand flat on top as if wanting to keep whatever was within it contained. “You remember Emmett Lawson?”
The name sent a jolt through Greer even though she hadn’t seen him since graduation. “Of course.”
“Mrs. Lawson canvassed Bill to get him in the program. His parents are worried sick about him.” Amelia’s voice dropped to a whisper that imparted both secrets and disquiet. “And for good reason.”
Greer took a seat, perched on the edge of the visitor’s chair. “I heard through Mama he’d been injured and got a slew of medals. Purple Heart. Silver Star. I didn’t realize he was back in Madison.”
Emmett Lawson had been an apple-pie, all-American boy in high school, and a literal All-American quarterback. Except he had forgone a football scholarship to Vanderbilt, instead attending West Point and accepting an officer’s commission in the army. His return should have merited a hero’s welcome, yet no one had even mentioned seeing him around Madison.
“It’s complicated.” Amelia kept her gaze averted and tapped her fingers on the file. “He refuses to leave the guest cabin out on his parents’ horse farm. Do you know it?”
“I do.” It had been the site of several high school parties. “Are you asking me to make a house call?”
Amelia heaved a sigh, her small smile doing nothing to banish the worry crinkling her eyes. “Exactly. See if you can encourage him to get some of his feelings out through music. Even better if you could coax him to come to us.”
“I’m not a mental health professional. In fact, I’m probably in need of counseling myself or I wouldn’t be in this situation.” Greer gestured around the room.
“No one expects a miracle.” An uncharacteristic hesitancy hitched Amelia’s words. “You and Emmett were in the same class, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, but we weren’t good friends or anything. We didn’t even hang out. He was a jock. I bounced between the music kids and the stoners. You should see if Misty Malone is available to pull him out of his shell. They were a hot-and-heavy item back then.”
“He doesn’t need an old flame turning up. He needs someone as stubborn as he is to annoy him. I think you’ll do great.”
Greer’s huff landed somewhere between amusement and indignation. “Gee, thanks.”
“That was a compliment. I thought for sure you’d bail on Ally after five minutes.”
“When is Emmett expecting me?”
“He’s not. And he most likely won’t roll out the welcome mat. Believe me, I wouldn’t ask you or anyone else to go out there if it wasn’t for his mother calling in a favor. She’s desperate.”
Greer’s curiosity trumped her natural inclination to stay out of it. “What happened to him?”
“Not sure. His parents didn’t say, and I didn’t get close enough to tell.”
“You already tried to see him?”
“Yep.” The word popped with plenty of sarcasm.
“Obviously, it didn’t go well.”
“Understatement.”
“Why do you think things will go better with me?”
“Because you two are at least acquainted.”
“I doubt he even remembers me from high school.”
“Will you try? That way we can tell his mama we did all we could, and I can get my mom and Bill off my back.” Amelia sent a side-eye glance in her direction. “Any hours you spend with Emmett will count double.”
It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. “Fine. I’ll give it a shot.”
A funny look passed over Amelia’s face. She cleared her throat and turned back to the computer. “Let me know how it turns out.”
Greer walked out with a brief backward glance. Amelia looked … troubled. But, as they didn’t qualify as friends, Greer kept moving, slipping back into the small room she’d used with Ally to straighten up. She picked up Ally’s expletive-laden lyrics to toss in the wastebasket.
She hesitated, this time reading past and around the curses. The lyrics were rough and meant to shock, but a compelling thread hid beneath them. A thread detailing a fight with anger and loneliness and questions for the universe.
Instead of wadding it up, she folded Ally’s work and slipped it into her back pocket with her time sheet. Laughter and voices skated down the hall. A middle-aged man with a full gray-black beard and a belly that strained to split the buttons of his oxford stopped in the doorway.
“I’m sorry. I thought the room was available.” His baritone brought to mind dark chocolate. Rich but with a bite.
Greer smiled. “It is. I was on my way out. I’m Greer, a new volunteer.”
They exchanged a handshake. “I’m Richard.”
“Volunteer or…” Greer wasn’t sure what to call the people they were supposed to be helping. Certainly not patients.
“Volunteer. I heard you got assigned Ally. What did you do to piss off Amelia?”
“We have a family connection. Does everyone here know Ally?”
Richard slipped by her and laid a keyboard on the table. “Ally has rotated through all the volunteers. She’s a nightmare. A lost cause. I don’t know why Amelia keeps trying. The girl doesn’t want to be here and as far as I can tell, she has no interest or talent in music or songwriting.”
Greer fingered the paper in her back pocket. “Actually, I see some potential.”
Richard was all wide-eyed skepticism. “Our time would be better spent working with people who want to be here. People who are actually in pain.”
Greer murmured a polite good-bye even though she was feeling anything but. True, Ally’s attitude made it difficult for anyone to harbor sympathy or pity for her situation. She had learned to push adults’ buttons until anger and frustration drowned out any kinder tendencies. But the girl had lost her father. A devastating loss for anyone, much less a teenager. Greer had no doubt the girl was in real pain.
A twenty-something-year-old man with the upright, crisp bearing of a soldier met her in the hallway, a slight hitch in his gait the only tell that something was wrong. She raised a hand in greeting. He did the same, except where his hand should be was a stump. The legs sticking out of his cargo shorts were both metal rods. Her smile wavered not from disgust but the reality of what Richard had meant.
“Have fun,” she said.
The man had soft eyes and a ready smile. “I will, ma’am.”
Greer stepped outside and tipped her face to the sun. The heat scorched her tears away. That man didn’t want her pity and neither did Ally. What would Emmett ask of her?
Chapter 3
Greer pumped the brakes as she approached the narrow lane that led off the main road to Emmett Lawson’s cabin. A gate blocked the entrance and a fence stretched to either side. As if that wasn’t enough to deter visitors, a No Trespassing sign swung in the slight breeze from the rusty top rail of the gate.
She tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat of the music on her radio, a catchy pop song with inane lyrics involving booty shaking. Without guilt, she could turn around and claim she couldn’t reach Emmett.
Except Amelia’s offer of double hours was too much to resist. A summer stroll through the woods would net her at least an hour. She parked on the side of the two-lane country road, half blocking one lane. Not that she was worried about causing a traffic jam. She looked in either direction. Nothing but bees traveled across the road.
Greer fanned herself with her straw cowboy hat and pulled at the lock and chain on the gate, hoping they were just for show, but the chain had been looped twice and the l
ock was heavy duty. The cabin was through the woods, but she couldn’t remember how far back. She popped onto her toes but spotted no evidence of human habitation. Emmett was a man who didn’t want to be bothered.
Curiosity arched like a cat in her psyche. In high school, Emmett had strode through the school like a god, worshiped by girls and boys alike. Even Greer hadn’t been immune. She’d spent most of World History staring at the back of his head and imagining what it would be like to be the focus of his blistering blue eyes and brilliant smile.
Not that boys like Emmett noticed girls like her. It was a universal law, like gravity or inertia. She’d existed on the fringes, artsy and weird, like a distant planet in his orbit. Her friends had been in music and theater. Emmett had been the quarterback dominating the football field while she’d been under the bleachers looking for trouble.
Yet, he hadn’t been a self-centered asshole. He’d been friendly and outgoing and well-liked by everyone, even her. What had happened?
She swung a leg over the fence. Splintered wood caught her along her inner thigh. Stuck with one leg on either side, she heaved herself all the way over and hopped while examining the deep scratch. At least she’d have proof for Amelia that she’d tried to see Emmett.
The wedge heels on her sandals sank into the soft ground. She kicked them off and tossed them on the other side of the fence by her front tire. Pine needles pricked her soles but it wasn’t unpleasant. It had been years since she’d felt the ground under her bare feet. Between the shade and the piney scent of the trees, the stroll was almost pleasant.
The trees ended in an abrupt line and spit her out into the blinding heat of the sun. Her hat did little to protect her. The cabin was nestled in a slight dip between rolling hills. It was a slicker, modern version of an old-timey cabin. Half the cabin was made with traditional-looking chinked logs, the other half with white-washed wooden boards. The wraparound porch and red metal roof added to the charm. It was picturesque.
Yet, the approach revealed an unkempt underbelly to the place. Grass grew knee-high on either side of the lane leading to the house but shorter between the tire tracks. Clumps of orange-and-black tiger lilies and black-eyed Susans poked out of the grass as if the landscaping had been abandoned. The bushes in front of the cabin had sent runners off in every direction. Chaos had gained the upper hand.
A shadow shifted on the front porch, but all she could hear was the ebb and flow of insects and birds. The movement materialized into a man. Emmett. She halted thirty feet from the porch steps and squinted against the sun knowing Emmett could see her perfectly as she fought the sun and lost.
“Hi!” Out of nerves, she waved like a deranged beauty queen in a parade. When he didn’t respond, she dropped her hand and smoothed her skirt.
“Get gone.” His voice rumbled like a rusty gate that hadn’t been opened in a long time.
“I’m not sure you remember me, but—”
“I said, go!”
“I just want to—”
The report of a gun had her yelping, covering her ears, and crouching down.
“You have one more chance to skedaddle. Now go.”
She rose. Her legs wobbled like noodles. While she couldn’t see him, the barrel of a shotgun glinted where it stuck out from the porch rails, except it was pointed at the sky and not at her. While her body had turned to mush, her head whirred. Was she going to run for home like a scared rabbit or stay like an idiot?
“You shoot that gun one more time and I’m going to tell your mama.” Her voice ended on a squeak.
Nothing moved. Even the critters around them had fallen silent. Or maybe she couldn’t hear them because her heart was trying to beat some sense into her. The flight portion of her fight-or-flight response was winning.
“Are you seriously threatening to rat me out to my mama? Maybe you won’t be alive to talk.” Although his words contained a threat, something about his voice had lightened, as if she had surprised him.
She squared herself with the shadow of Emmett and crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze stuck on the gun. If it swung toward her, she would make a dive for the tall grass. “I know your mama, and she’d come out here and jerk a knot in your tail if I told her about this.”
“For the love of God, I’m not going to shoot you.” He cracked the barrel and set the gun out of sight. Although it was still on Greer’s mind as she shuffled forward.
“I’m Greer—”
“Greer Hadley. I know who you are. I’m not having sex with you so go on home.”
Instinct had Greer gasping and clutching her great-grandmother’s pearls. She didn’t think she was still capable of being shocked. She was wrong. “I’m not—how could you think—? Oh my God, you are a pig.”
“Am I? Well, I’m sick of you girls traipsing out here like I need a reminder of my glory days. The sign on the gate says no trespassing. I meant it.”
“Maybe you need to replace it with ‘Trespassers Will Be Shot.’ There’s got to be a law against shooting at innocent visitors.”
“You weren’t in any danger. I know my way around a gun.”
“Common human decency should have kicked in before you fired.” She took her hat off and fanned herself. The heat from the sun mixed with the shot of adrenaline made her stomach climb up her throat. She shuffled toward the porch steps.
“I told you to leave.” Had some of her panic transferred to him? It sure sounded like it.
“Don’t worry, I can’t be gone soon enough, but I need to sit down in the shade for a second before I’m sick.” She wobbled on the edge of fainting.
“You’re sick?”
“Your little stunt scared the shit out of me, Emmett. Give me a minute of peace to cool off, would you?”
He retreated to the house before she got a good look at him, but she didn’t care. She plopped down on the top step of his porch, the shade a blessing. A row of three ceiling fans broke the stagnant air around her, and she dropped her head between her knees, her hat tumbling down the stairs.
“Here.” He nudged an icy glass against her upper arm.
“Thanks.” She drank deeply, finishing half of the tea in one go. She glanced over, her gaze bouncing off his legs, her breath catching in her throat.
One calf was ropy muscles covered in dark blond hair. The other was a dark metal imitation. Scuffed gray athletic shoes were on his feet. A black sleeve covered the knee of his amputated leg and disappeared into the leg of slouchy cargo shorts a size too big.
She shifted until her back was against the porch and finger-combed her sweaty hair out of her face. Forcing her gaze off his legs, she took in the rest of him. While the boy who had ruled the halls of Madison High School was recognizable, the man who had taken his place exuded a bitter darkness that boy had seemed immune to. But no one was immune to tragedies. They struck with no consideration of good or evil.
Instead of calming, her stomach turned even more rambunctious. “How’ve you been, Emmett?” The question popped out before she could put a lid on the knee-jerk politeness. Obviously, things had not gone well for him.
“Fine. Peachy. Never been better. Is that why you’ve come all the way out here? You’re not here to fuck me out of my mood?” Every word dripped with sarcasm.
So much sarcasm, in fact, that Greer recognized the ploy from her own personal library of reactions. Hit before someone could exploit your weaknesses, or even worse, offer a mealy-mouthed side of sympathy.
“You kiss your mama with that mouth?” Greer asked with the tartness of lemonade even as she took another sip of sweet tea.
His lips twitched, slight but unmistakable. She’d chosen wisely. Coddling was not what Emmett needed. She wasn’t actually sure what a man like Emmett needed, but a good kick in the butt after his reckless, insane greeting was more than deserved.
“Twice on Sundays,” he said in a voice laced with amusement before his mouth settled into a harsh line. “What are you doing here, Greer?”
“I ca
n’t believe you even remember me.” Besides their limited interaction in class, her dominant memory of Emmett was from their senior year, in a busy hallway between classes. He’d swooped in and told off a guy who’d been bothering her for weeks. Did he even remember, or was she one of hundreds of misfits he’d rescued back then?
“Why wouldn’t I? We were in the same grade. You sat behind me in World History.”
“That’s right, I did.” She kept her voice vague as if just remembering the fact. Lord, she hoped he had no inkling that she’d imagined what his hair would feel like under her fingers. A bout of embarrassment had her flapping her shirt. “Am I to understand women have been coming out here to … you know, offer themselves to you?”
“A couple. I guess they want to save me.”
“I don’t know that you need saving, but you could surely use a shower.”
He barked a laugh, but she was serious. His hair was longer than she’d ever seen it—ragged and choppy with a slight curl where the ends hit the collar of his T-shirt. It was also darker, but she wasn’t sure if that was from the years gone by or the lack of shampoo.
“Why are you here, Greer?” he asked again, sounding exhausted.
“I volunteer for Amelia’s Music Tree Foundation. Are you familiar?”
He mumbled another curse and ran a hand down his face. “I told Amelia I wasn’t interested.”
“Did you greet her in the same charming manner as you welcomed me?”
“Something similar.” Emmett’s smile held no humor.
Amelia was going to get an earful. Her caginess about Emmett the day before was making more sense. She’d better sign off on a dozen service hours after putting Greer’s life in danger.
“You should be honored we agreed to make a house call,” Greer said with a faked lightness.
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“No, but your mama did. Don’t you want to make her happy?”
“I’m not ten years old; I’m a grown man. I don’t live my life to make my parents happy. Or proud.” His declaration unearthed another streak of bitterness.
An Everyday Hero Page 3
