Song for a Cowboy

by Sasha Summers

  “I think we’re good now.” Krystal nodded.

  Travis started tapping his foot, his fingers flying along the banjo strings. “A one, a two, a one-two-three-four.”

  Jace on his guitar and Travis, on his banjo, started singing together.

  Saturday night and the moon is full,

  I see you standing there and can’t fight this pull.

  Smiling at me from across the dance floor,

  Girl, you call my name and I’m coming for more.

  Dancing in my arms and it feels so right.

  No need to hurry cuz we got all night.

  Emmy Lou and Krystal sang.

  Saturday night and the stars shine bright,

  You’re staring at me and holding me tight.

  In your cowboy hat looking so fine,

  Boy, you smile at me, make me wish you were mine.

  Dancing in your arms and it feels so right.

  No need to hurry cuz we got all night.

  The chorus was a big explosion of music and harmony and pure energy.

  Now, baby, when you kiss me, ooh-hoo

  Oh, I like the way you kiss me.

  Once we start, don’t want to stop. Ooh-hoo-hoo

  And all I know is here we go. Ooh-hoo.

  Back to the start, straight to my heart. Ooh-hoo-hoo.

  No fighting this. No stopping fate.

  Third time’s a charm. My heart can’t wait.

  They sang through the second verse, alternating lines and, from the looks of it, enjoying themselves. When they hit the final notes and the last line of the chorus, everyone—Brock included—was on their feet.

  Hank King looked ready to burst with pride. Surprisingly, so did CiCi.

  Emmy Lou hugged her sister. “I guess y’all can stay for one more song.”

  Four songs later, the Three Kings and Jace left the stage and the big band took over. Brock did his best not to stare as she made her way toward their table. But the minute Emmy Lou saw him, she lit up. That smile was for him? How the hell was he supposed to resist that?

  But then CiCi stepped in, sliding an arm around Emmy’s waist and whispering in her ear. Whatever she said was enough to snuff out the light in Emmy’s gaze. In the minutes it took to find more chairs, it was clear Emmy was giving him the cold shoulder. Even wedged between him and her father, Emmy barely acknowledged his presence.

  No one else seemed to mind the tight quarters. Being over six feet meant he took up a lot of space. Space he didn’t have with Emmy Lou so close. He was caught up in a battle of sensation. Her silky hair. Her sweet scent. The brush of her hand as she reached for her glass. And when she leaned back, pushing her hair from her neck, the curve of her shoulder and the arch of her neck had him finishing his ice water. He shrugged out of his coat, wishing he could yank off his damn tie and roll up his sleeves.

  CiCi King kept right on watching. She was subtle about it, talking and smiling the whole time. But she was watching. What the hell was she looking for?

  By the time dinner was cleared and the big band started to play, he knew leaving was the best for all concerned. Emmy Lou was putting on a fine show, but he felt the tension rolling off her. Since he was somehow the cause of the stress, he’d go. He was making his excuses when Shalene Fowler showed up with a photographer. “Brock, you’re leaving already?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He was forty-five minutes behind schedule.

  “Can we get a few pics first?” She paused.

  He posed while they snapped pictures of the crowded table, but the whole time he felt the push and pull between himself and Emmy. As soon as they finished, he was up.

  “Can we get one or two of you on the dance floor? The Bremmy fans will love it.” Shalene smiled. “I know you’re in a hurry, so we’ll make it fast. Emmy, do you mind?”

  If she did mind, she hid it well. “No, of course not.”

  CiCi King chose that moment speak up. “She needs to stay off her ankle. You can’t afford to push it, with the tour about to start—”

  “One dance won’t hurt a thing,” Hank argued. “Go on and get your pictures.”

  “I’ll ask the band to slow things down.” Shalene headed off, moving rapidly toward the bandstand.

  A slow dance with Emmy Lou sounded like the perfect way to wind out the evening. It gave him the excuse he needed to touch her. CiCi King would have to grin and bear it. He slid his coat on and offered her his hand. “If you’re ready, Miss King?”

  She stared up at him, a hesitant smile on her face. Her hand was ice-cold in his grasp. “Thank you.” She was up, hooking her arm through his.

  He was acutely aware of the sudden lack of conversation at their table. If he looked—which he didn’t—he’d probably find every single one of them watching. When the strains of “When I Fall in Love” began, Brock accepted the fact that the next five minutes were going to be painfully awkward—but well worth it.

  He led Emmy onto the dance floor, flexing his hand before placing it on her back. “I’m better at swaying anyway.” He glanced down to find her staring straight at his chest.

  “I know,” she murmured, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

  In order to put her hand on his shoulder, she had to stand closer—close enough that he could hear her breathe. But since they were both attempting to keep space between them, it wasn’t the most natural pose.

  “Great, great,” Shalene said. “Let’s get some smiles.”

  Emmy, he knew, would have the smile thing down—no problem. For him, it was a problem. He wasn’t wired that way. And something about this whole evening made him begin to worry about what would happen when this was over. Not to him, but to Emmy Lou.

  “You look like you’re in pain.” Krystal was up, standing beside the photographer, a cell phone in her hand. “Emmy, stop kicking him.”

  “What?” Emmy was horrified. “I’m not.”

  “So, you’re, what, stomping on his toes?” Krystal asked, watching them.

  Emmy laughed. “I’m way up on my tiptoes. I can’t stomp or kick him.”

  Dammit. With a sigh, he pulled her closer. “Better?”

  They were so close now she had to look up at him. “Yes.”

  He nodded. Could she feel his heart clipping along? He sure as hell hoped not.

  She slowly relaxed against him.

  It felt good having her hand in his, his arm holding her close; the rest of the room seemed to fade away. He didn’t mind.

  “I know you prefer keeping personal life private.” She nibbled on the inside of her lip—a dead giveaway that she was worrying. “This Bremmy thing is out of control. I—”

  He shook his head. “I made a choice to go after you.”

  Her throat tightened. “But…are you okay with it? Are Aunt Mo and your father okay?”

  “They don’t mind. Not that they’re big on Twitter.” He cleared his throat, smiling broadly.

  “Great smiles. Hold it.” Shalene nodded as the photographer clicked away. “All right. You enjoy yourselves.”

  “Do you?” she whispered. “Mind, I mean?”

  “I’m not really on Twitter either, but I’m a fan.” He was staring down at her now. Sometimes he forgot just how green her eyes were. “Pro-Bremmy.”

  Her voice was a whisper. “Really?”

  He nodded. Privacy was important, but this was different. Primarily because she was involved. Plus, Connie was over-the- moon excited about the positive attention he was getting.

  Emmy was studying him, eyes wide and still nibbling away.

  “What about you?” He turned slowly, concealing their conversation.

  Her breath wavered. “I…I’m a fan, too.” Her fingers slid above the collar of his shirt.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He shook his head, the final strains of the
song putting an end to the highlight of his day. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He sure as hell didn’t want to let her go. “I was thinking about coming to a concert.”

  “I might be able to get you a backstage pass. Watson will be glad to see you.”

  “That’s nice, but I’m not coming to see Watson.” It was hard to escort her off the floor and back to her family. Everyone knew he’d been trying to leave for the last hour, so he couldn’t decide to stay now. But he paused, waiting long enough for her to give him one more lit-up-from-the-inside smile before heading out—carrying her warmth with him.

  Chapter 12

  Emmy Lou held the mic closer to Krystal, watching her sister’s fingers slide along the strings in time with Jace. With four shows under their belt, the two of them had turned the guitar solo into a guitar duel—and the fans loved it. As the roar of the crowd climbed higher, she and Travis exchanged a smile. Touring was exhausting, sure. And no matter how many hours of rehearsals and performances they put in, glitches happened. But as long as they kept the music going and their energy high, the fans were game for anything.

  When Krystal and Jace paused, Travis said, “Finally,” and a ripple of laughter joined in the steady clapping. A smile passed among them as they started singing the chorus together.

  Now, baby, when you kiss me, ooh-hoo.

  Oh, I like the way you kiss me.

  Once we start, don’t want to stop. Ooh-hoo-hoo.

  And all I know is here we go. Ooh-hoo.

  Back to the start, straight to my heart. Ooh-hoo-hoo.

  No fighting this. No stopping fate.

  Third time’s a charm. My heart can’t wait.

  Even though this was their second encore of the night, the energy in the Coastal Shoals Civic Center hadn’t waned. Emmy, on the other hand, was wiped out. “Thank you, Raleigh, North Carolina,” Emmy Lou said, waving. “Y’all be safe going home tonight.”

  The four of them took a bow and waved. But instead of leaving the stage with her siblings, Emmy Lou paused at a little girl who was waving a bright-pink guitar at her. She was sitting on her mother’s shoulders, smiling and hopeful. Emmy Lou made a beeline in their direction. As resistant as she’d been to her rhinestone-covered silver jumpsuit, it did take the fear out of crouching down on the edge of the stage.

  “Hi, sweetie,” she said to the little girl. “What do you have there?”

  The little girl was holding an inflatable pink guitar over her head. “It’s a guitar. Like Krystal’s.” She held it up, her smile revealing two missing front teeth. “It’s for you.”

  Emmy Lou stared at the little girl, truly touched. “For me? Are you sure?”

  The little girl’s mother nodded. “It was her idea. She wanted it because it was pink, and pink is your favorite color.”

  Emmy Lou’s eyes were stinging. “I love surprise presents. And this one is extra special. What’s your name?”

  “Valencia.” She smiled.

  “Well, Valencia, I’d really love a picture with you, if that’s okay?” Emmy Lou asked Valencia’s mother.

  Sawyer came out to help, lifting Valencia onto the stage with ease. He stood by, stony faced, until the pictures were done and carefully lowered her back to the concrete floor.

  “Thank you.” Valencia’s mom smiled. “I know you hear this a lot but it’s real nice for young girls to have a role model like you. They’re hard to come by these days.”

  “I appreciate that.” Emmy Lou waved goodbye. “And thank you, Valencia. It was nice meeting you.” But when she stood, the stage seemed to tilt, and her head was spinning so fast she wound up grabbing on to Sawyer’s arm.

  “You good?” Sawyer asked, taking the inflatable guitar and leading her swiftly from the stage. “Em? You okay?”

  It wasn’t the first time. “I just stood up too fast.” It wasn’t a big deal.

  “You normally get dizzy from standing up too fast?” He wasn’t amused. “Come on.”

  “Sometimes, yes. I’m a little dehydrated.” She patted his arm.

  He paused outside the dressing room. “I’m probably overstepping here, but I know this isn’t dehydration.” He sighed. “When did you eat last?”

  She was too wobbly to argue. At the moment, all she wanted was a chair and some water or juice. “Sawyer—”

  “You spend all your time worrying about looking and acting perfect, keeping the peace, and being a good role model. What do you do for yourself?”

  It was hard to make eye contact with him. “Sawyer, you’re worrying over nothing.”

  “That’s bullshit.” He was scowling now, dropping the inflatable guitar and gently grasping her upper arms. “You’re making yourself sick for the approval of a woman you’ll never make happy.”

  All she could do was stare now. “Momma’s never—”

  “I shouldn’t have said that.” His jaw muscle tightened. “You are harming yourself, Emmy Lou. I can’t stand by and do nothing. I won’t.” There was surprising tenderness in his blue-green eyes. “My…job is to protect you from harm.”

  “Emmy Lou?” Her daddy was headed their way. He didn’t look happy. “What’s going on?”

  Sawyer’s hands slid free of her arms and he stepped back, all traces of emotion wiped away.

  “One of you better start talking.” Daddy’s voice was razor-sharp. “Now.”

  “I got dizzy.” That was true. But the rest of it stuck in her throat. Old habits die hard. Denying she had a problem, hiding the truth, was an old habit. She knew lying wouldn’t make this better. Then again, neither would telling the truth. “He helped me off the stage.”

  By now, Jace, Krystal, and Travis had almost reached them, but their pace slowed when they heard their father. Daddy’s anger was a rare occurrence.

  “That’s what the two of you were talking about? I don’t buy it.” Daddy’s voice rose. “I don’t want to lose you, son. I appreciate how hard you work and your loyalty; you know that. But I can’t have lines getting blurred here.”

  The muscle in Sawyer’s jaw tightened. For anyone else, it wouldn’t have been noticeable. But for Sawyer and his stoicism, that muscle twitch said more than words.

  “I need to know what the hell is going on, Emmy Lou. I won’t have any more secrets in my house.” Daddy met Sawyer’s gaze. “Otherwise, you’ll have to find yourself a new job.”

  Sawyer’s gaze dropped.

  “Daddy.” She wouldn’t lose her brother over this. She’d lost too much already. “He was doing his job. He noticed I… I’m not… I don’t eat. He told me to take care of myself.” She spit the words out. “I try, I do, but…he didn’t do a thing wrong. I did.”

  Daddy was staring at her, confusion and sadness creasing his forehead and tugging down the corners of his mouth. “What are you saying, baby girl?”

  “Oh, Daddy.” She shook her head, sucking in a wavering breath. “I know you’re upset, but this isn’t the right time or place for this.” Another breath. “It’s probably best to talk this through tomorrow. When we’ve had some sleep and no one’s waiting on us. Please.”

  Daddy shook his head. “I don’t give a damn about the people waiting. You and your brother and sister—nothing matters more to me. You hear me, Emmy Lou? Nothing. You three are my pride and joy.” He cleared his throat, his gaze searching hers. “Your whole life, you’ve never broken a promise. So I’m asking you to promise me we’ll work this out together. Whatever it takes to get you help, get you eating. Promise me?”

  Emmy Lou had big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “I promise.” It was a whisper. “But I do care about the people waiting. You know I can’t let them down.”

  He pulled her in again, holding her and patting her back. “I know. I know. All right. Tomorrow, then.” He sighed, his hold tightening. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll figure this out.”

  She clun
g to him. “I know, Daddy.”

  Daddy cleared his throat. “Sawyer.” He eased his hold on Emmy Lou and stepped forward, holding out his hand. “I’m sorry, son. All you’ve ever done was take care of my family and I jumped down your throat for it.”

  “She’s your daughter.” Sawyer’s gaze met Daddy’s. “This is my job. Protecting her.”

  Daddy nodded, shaking Sawyer’s hand, then pulling him in for a quick one-armed hug that ended just as soon as it began. It only lasted a second, but Emmy Lou saw the flash of longing on Sawyer’s face. She ached for him—for them both.

  “I’ll find Melanie so she can get you what you need.” Sawyer headed down the hall.

  “I’ll stall them a minute. You go sit, take your time, and come on down when you’re ready.” Daddy patted her cheek. “You good?”

  She nodded.

  That was when her father realized they had an audience.

  Krystal hugged him, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and said, “I’ll go with you. Jace, too. We’re so damn charming, they might not even miss Emmy Lou.” She winked at Emmy.

  “I’ll stay with Emmy,” Travis said. For the first time in months, Travis looked at Daddy without hostility.

  “You hear all that?” Daddy’s voice was thick.

  Travis nodded.

  Daddy nodded, took Krystal’s hand, and headed to the meet-and-greet around the corner.

  “You don’t have to stay.” Emmy Lou pushed open her dressing room door. “I’m fine.” She took the pink guitar he handed her and cradled it against her chest. “Thank you. Present. It was a great show.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He nodded, pure condescension. “Does that mean you think I’m going to pretend what just happened didn’t happen?”

  Emmy Lou shook her head. “Trav—” She hadn’t expected him to wrap her up in his arms. Travis’s hugs lasted five seconds and were followed by lots of dismissive teasing. But he wasn’t letting her go. He didn’t let go until Sawyer came in with Melanie in tow.

  “Gatorade and a banana.” Melanie waited for Travis to step aside before putting the half-peeled banana in her hand.

  “All of it,” Travis said, crossing his arms and leaning against the vanity counter.