Cowboy in the Making

by Julie Benson

  “I haven’t seen her this morning. Now, about your concert.” Callie leaned toward him and wet her lips. “Do you know any Luke Bryan songs? I love the song ‘Drunk on You.’ You know, if your hair was a bit shorter you could be his twin. Not that I don’t like your hair.”

  “Dial it back, missy. It’s unseemly of you to act so forward.” Shirley grabbed a scrap of paper and a pencil off the desk, jotted something down and handed the note to him. “If you want to see the town, give my granddaughter a call.”

  “You thought I was too forward?” Callie said.

  Fans of the Philharmonic never acted like this. The most they did was write a polite email extolling his skills and the emotions his playing evoked in words that usually sent him running for the dictionary. “If you tell me where Emma’s office is, I’ll be on my way.”

  He wanted to get out of there before they started tugging at him like a turkey wishbone on Thanksgiving Day.

  “It’s the one to the left at the end of that hallway.” Shirley pointed the way. “You think about calling Shay.”

  Anxious to escape, he thanked the woman, picked up Trooper’s carrier and headed for the hallway. After a few steps, Emma’s voice drifted toward him. “Forget about having Jamie sing at the fund-raiser. What we should ask him to do is let us raffle off a date with him. That’s what’ll bring in big bucks. Maybe then everyone will leave me alone and quit asking me to fix them up with him.”

  He knocked on the door and stepped inside the office. Avery laughed seeing him, while Emma blushed bright pink. He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Raffle off a date? That’s an interesting idea, but what’s in it for me?”

  Emma groaned. “Talk about awkward. How do I keep putting my foot in my mouth whenever you’re around?”

  “I guess I bring out the best in you.”

  “I was kidding about the raffle. It’s been a long morning,” she continued.

  “Let’s not dismiss the idea so quickly. It could make a lot—”

  “Not unless you rig it so that one of you two is the winner,” he said before Avery could finish. “After the way the women acted when I was onstage the other night and hearing Callie and Shirley go around out there, I’m a little scared of the women in town.”

  “Callie and Shirley are working the desk together? We never schedule them at the same time.”

  “I can see why.”

  Emma covered her eyes with her hands, but peered at him through her fingers. “Do I want to know what happened?”

  He gave her and Avery a quick rundown of the gauntlet he’d been forced to run. “For a while there I was worried a fight would break out.”

  “As the director of the shelter, let me apologize for my volunteers,” Avery said in all seriousness.

  Emma groaned and reached for a pencil and a Post-it note off the desk. As she started writing, she said, “I’m making a note to discuss that we’re not a dating service with the volunteers.”

  “I don’t know,” Jamie said. “You might be missing out on a way to up your adoption numbers. Adopt a pet and get a date for Friday night.”

  Emma laughed. “That’s a good one. Thanks. I needed a laugh. It could be our new holiday slogan.”

  “It’s good to see your sense of humor is returning. You had me worried for a while there.” Avery nodded toward the carrier in Jamie’s hand. “How’s our little friend doing?”

  “Trooper—that’s what I started calling him—is more active and alert this morning. Have you had any luck finding his mother?”

  “Not yet, but we’re still looking. Have we found someone to foster him?” Emma turned toward Avery, who shook her head.

  “If you haven’t, I can keep him a while longer.”

  “I’ll let you two talk about that while I give this little guy a look-over since he’s here.” Avery stood, picked up the carrier and left, shutting the door behind her.

  Emma nodded to the chair beside her. “If you’re willing to keep him, that would be great. If you give me your phone number I’ll call you when we find someone to foster him.”

  “That’s a slick way to ask a guy for his number.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything else for us to discuss,” Emma said in what he now recognized was her best all-business voice. “You’re more than welcome to sit here until Avery’s finished examining Trooper. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to give Callie and Shirley a quick how-to-work-the-front-desk refresher course.”

  * * *

  LATER THAT EVENING when Emma walked into her father’s garage, the one he’d been kind enough to clear out when she’d started the band, she still couldn’t believe how she’d let Jamie get to her at the shelter. He’d been so determined to push her buttons.

  That’s a slick way to ask a guy for his number.

  And what had she come back with? Pretty much nothing but a lame excuse that she had work duties to see to. His laughter taunting her when she’d left Avery’s office told her he’d known she was taking the coward’s way out.

  Damn right she had. Sometimes retreating was the only way to survive the battle.

  “I talked to Jamie,” Emma said when Luke and Grayson arrived. “He’s bringing his fiddle with him when he comes to work on the songs for the Pet Walk concert.”

  She’d debated whether or not to tell them about Jamie’s hand, but decided it wasn’t her place to share the news. Could be that everything would go fine when he played with them and no one would need to know anything about his injury.

  But more important, she kept remembering the trust shining in his eyes last night when he’d told her how he’d come to Estes Park to get away. She couldn’t betray him.

  “I checked out the video of you two singing. Man, women go crazy over that guy. Some of their comments online made me blush.”

  “Sure, he’s got a great voice, but what’s he got that we don’t have?” Luke nodded toward Grayson.

  Seriously? How could men be so clueless? While Luke and Grayson were good-looking and in shape, they weren’t...well, Jamie. They lacked his charisma, his charm. That rare “it” so few people possessed.

  “He could bring a whole new demographic to the Pet Walk,” Luke said.

  “Single, man-hungry women?” Emma shuddered at the thought of every woman within a thirty-mile radius showing up at the event. Wouldn’t that be a fun audience to perform in front of?

  Visions of screaming single women in their audience all vying for Jamie’s attention danced in her head. That’s what she’d always dreamed of her concerts being—wild events with women tossing their lace thongs onstage. That would get everyone to take them seriously.

  What had she done?

  “That’s my favorite demographic—women between eighteen and twenty-five,” Luke said, a big asinine smile on his face.

  “This could be way more fun than last year,” Grayson added.

  Maybe for the rest of the band.

  “Jamie’s already helping increase our visibility,” Luke said. “Because you’re in the video with him, people are checking out our stuff, too, and the likes on our videos are way up. We need to capitalize on this.”

  “I was amazed how good you two sounded.”

  Here we go. Same song, second verse. The old insecurity welled up inside her, reminding her of the comments she’d heard when she’d returned to Nashville and started singing without Tucker. Your guitar skills are amazing as always, and your voice sounds great, but you’re not at the level you were when you and Tucker sang together. Have you thought about joining another band or finding another singing partner?

  The first time she’d heard that after a show she’d brushed the statement off, but when that became the standard response from industry professionals, she realized a solo career wouldn’t get her where she wanted to be.

&nb
sp; “The heat you two generated lit up the stage. I’ve never heard you sound like that,” Luke said.

  Ouch. Hearing it from half the town had been bad enough, but hearing it from one of her bandmates, who knew her ability probably better than she did and whose judgment she valued, shook her.

  “Are you saying I sounded like crap before?”

  “Man, you’re touchy today. You know that’s not what I meant,” Luke said.

  Forget about it. Don’t doubt yourself or doubt what you’re meant to do with your life. Instead, think of singing with Jamie as the means to achieving your ends—a recording contract. If he could help her and the band win the state fair contest, did anything else matter?

  But then the little nagging, devil’s advocate voice in her head decided to chime in. Say you do win. What then? One major problem with singing with Jamie is he isn’t planning on sticking around.

  She wouldn’t think about that now. She’d take things one step at a time. The first one being to prepare the band for the contest and give them the best chance of winning.

  “It’s going to take a lot of work to be ready for the shelter fund-raiser, but I think we can do it,” she said, trying to regain control of rehearsal. She almost laughed. Who was she kidding? She hadn’t been in control of anything today. “Playing at the Pet Walk will be a good test run for the state fair.”

  “You know, the way Jamie sings harmony could add a new dimension to our sound. We could rework some of our stuff,” Luke added.

  And here they were, back on the topic of the day, Jamie. Had everyone gotten together and plotted to drive her insane? It was sure starting to feel that way.

  “Slow down. We don’t know if him playing with us will work. He might not be able to make the transition to country music,” she said. “If that’s the case, he’ll just sing a couple of songs for the shelter benefit. But even if he does work out, all we’ve talked about is him helping until we find someone permanent.”

  Luke smiled. “Who knows. Maybe he’ll like playing with us so much he’ll change his religion, so to speak, and decide to stick around.”

  * * *

  THE RANCH WHERE Emma grew up hadn’t changed much in the years since Jamie had last been here. A modest house that now needed a coat of paint. A massive red barn that looked as if it was straight out of every rural painting he’d ever seen and land guarded by the Rocky Mountains.

  Funny, he thought as he parked by the garage and headed inside, how some things changed so much while others stayed the same.

  Emma introduced him to the other band members, Grayson and Luke, and the four of them stood and chatted for a couple of minutes. Just small talk. How long they’d been playing together. Their backgrounds. All the basic get-to-know-you stuff.

  “Now that the meet and greet is over, let’s get to work,” Emma said and handed Jamie some music. He glanced through the first few pages. So far so good. Nothing he couldn’t handle. Then he hit the third page and twinges of apprehension knotted his gut. A couple measures could trip him up. They weren’t so difficult he couldn’t have played the music when he was in high school, but now? He wasn’t sure. Not with his hand less than 100 percent.

  He considered saying they should forget the whole thing, but since Emma had asked him to bring his violin he’d felt almost renewed. Definitely energized from the rush of adrenaline at the thought of a new challenge and playing with a group again. He’d checked out various country bands on the internet and found himself getting excited over the possibilities. He’d even found one band that was appearing in Longmont tonight. Maybe he and Emma could check them out.

  As much as he’d thought about the performing possibilities this afternoon, he’d thought about Emma more. He’d wondered what it would be like getting up every morning knowing he’d get to see her. Talk about a work incentive program.

  No, he wouldn’t give up before he even gave this a shot.

  “You ready to give it a try?” she asked.

  Talk about a loaded question. He was up for trying a lot of things with Emma. He cleared his throat and tried to get his mind off all the things he’d like to do with her and back on the audition.

  He placed the music on the stand she had set up and lifted his violin out of the case. “All set.”

  Emma counted out two measures. He came in on the fifth. The music flowed out of him, filling him with a passion he hadn’t experienced since he’d discovered the sound he could produce with an instrument. Confidence surged in his veins. Emma’s voice wrapped around him, drawing him in even further. She reached deep inside him, touching him in a way he never imagined possible. He felt connected. Right in a way he couldn’t describe.

  When they came to the chorus, the violin part dropped out. He switched to singing harmony to Emma’s lead vocals. He could spend all day singing with her. All the uncertainty about his future, the fear and anger at possibly starting over in a new career, disappeared. At the second verse he picked up the violin again. They hit the bridge and he held his own for about ten measures. Then his left ring finger cramped. He botched the fingering and hit one hell of a clunker, throwing off his timing. That left him playing catch up with the band, which never quite happened. Figuring there wasn’t any point in jumping back in, he gave up.

  A minute later when the song ended there was dead silence. Not that he blamed anyone for not knowing what to say. Hell, he didn’t even know what to say since the wooden guy from the auditions had sounded better than he just had. That was bad enough, but his performance made him realize how much work he had ahead of him if he hoped to return to the symphony, but would hard work be enough?

  “The vocals were fantastic, but, man, I got to ask you, what happened with the fiddle?” Luke said. “You were good through most of it, but there were some spots that were rough. I’ve heard you play. Your skills are amazing. What’s up?”

  Before he could say anything, Emma said, “Not everyone can play country music. Remember when Michael Jordan tried to play baseball? He was an incredible athlete. Arguably the best basketball player ever. Despite that, he couldn’t make it in major league baseball. That’s how it is with music, too. Maybe country music just isn’t Jamie’s thing.”

  Obviously, she hadn’t told the guys about his injury, and he realized she was giving him an out, a way to keep his secret if he wanted to. He considered brushing off the question with a vague answer about it being a long story that he’d rather not go into, but decided against it. Keeping people from finding out he’d been let go from the Philharmonic took too much energy and the vacation excuse would only work for so long. When he kept hanging around, people would know something was up. Plus, these guys realized something didn’t fit and he wouldn’t lie.

  As he started explaining about his injury he thought he should have a card printed out to hand to people to save time. Former Classical Musician Sidelined Due to Injury. Physical Issues May or May Not Improve. Please Submit Further Questions in Writing and Wait For the Reply That Will Come When Hell Freezes Over.

  “Obviously the injury’s affecting my playing. My ring finger is the big issue. It’s stiff and doesn’t move like it should. If it were my bow hand it wouldn’t be any problem.” He replaced his violin in the case.

  “That sucks,” Grayson said.

  “You got that right. I came out here to get away.”

  “Your secret’s safe with us. As far as I’m concerned, what’s up with your hand isn’t anyone else’s business,” Luke said.

  “I appreciate that.” The thud as he shut his case sounded like a casket closing and just as final. “Since Avery’s started publicizing me singing at the Pet Walk, I’d like to sing with you for that if it’s okay with all of you.”

  “I think you playing fiddle with us could still work.”

  Jamie stared at Emma, unable to believe what she’d said. She’s eit
her lost her mind or gone tone-deaf. “You can say that after hearing me play?”

  “Understandably you have incredibly high standards, but we could fix the problems you had by tweaking the fiddle parts,” she said.

  “You mean make them easier?” That hurt. He didn’t want a pity job. “No, thanks. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.”

  “If you couldn’t cut it on the fiddle I wouldn’t make the offer. I don’t do pity.” Emma stared him straight in the eye, nothing but honesty shining in her gaze. “That ridiculous emotion doesn’t do anyone any good. If you discount those couple of measures, you’re better than anyone else we’ve auditioned.”

  Okay, maybe pity hadn’t motivated her offer. He accepted that. A woman with the drive to succeed that Emma possessed wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of her goal.

  “What you add vocalswise compensates for the little bit we’d have to simplify the fiddle part,” Grayson added. “The harmony between you two is amazing. Some of the best stuff I’ve ever heard.”

  Luke snapped his fingers. “That gives me an idea. If Jamie sang lead on some numbers it would open up a whole new range of songs for us. We could expand our selections to include more guy-focused stuff and less of this angsty material.”

  “Yeah, we are a little heavy on the chick songs right now,” Grayson agreed.

  “Hey, I’ve written a lot of the material we sing.”

  “Exactly.”

  She turned to Jamie. “You’ve started a mutiny, Fletcher Christian. Thanks.”

  “Then put a stop to it.”

  She’d crossed her arms over her chest, her stance stiff and braced. Her brows knit together in thought. He smiled. She was probably weighing the cost of how much jail time she’d get for assaulting Luke and Grayson versus how satisfying it would be to let her anger rip.

  Meanwhile, the two knuckleheads rattled on about the songs they could add to the band’s repertoire. Jamie cringed. If Grayson and Luke possessed any brains, they’d head for the nearest bomb shelter or, in lieu of that, duck behind the drums for protection from the blast that was heading their way.