All That Matters

Dahlia Imprint

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Sincere thanks and deep appreciation to everyone at Tell-Tale Publishing for your belief in this project and making it happen.

To the country singers whose ballads inspired this story —Your music says what a heart needs to hear.

Heartfelt thanks to my awesome critique group for continuing to push me to stretch my writing boundaries.

This one’s for y’all!

“P
lease let him be here.”

Whatever crazy stunts she’d pulled in the past, this one topped them all and Faith Morgan was scared Buddy Lee Walker wouldn’t answer his door. Wouldn’t help her this time.

Standing at the back door of the small tract-house where Buddy Lee had lived since they were kids in high school, Faith experienced a
déjà vu
moment. The last time she’d been here, her daddy had come storming after her, horrified that his daughter was mingling with the town’s
white trash
. His words, not hers.

Like the good friend he was, Buddy Lee took the blame that time without ever revealing the real reason she’d been there. Now after six years, here she was at his door again, hoping with all her heart his friendship still held.

Balling her fist, she pounded again as hard as she could.
  
As much as she hated to ask him for help, Buddy Lee was the only one she could turn to. The only one who understood the reasons behind her rebellious teen years. He’d been her stalwart champion, despite her father’s disapproval. The protective brother she’d never had.

But that was then. This was now.
 
She was twenty-three, not seventeen. She was responsible for her own actions. Or should be. What would he think of her now?

“Buddy Lee, please answer the door!”

A heart-stopping thought hit her. What if he didn’t live here any longer? Or was married? She’d been living forty miles away in Granite City ever since she moved there after graduating from college. Close enough for the obligatory, yet infrequent, visits home to check on her mother’s health. Her high school protector had been all but forgotten. Until now.

“Buddy Lee, I need you!” She raised her hand one more time. Just one more try, then she’d leave.

B
uddy Lee Walker didn’t appreciate the late-night knocking that interrupted his favorite
Gunsmoke
rerun, especially since he suspected the unwelcome visitor was only Scooter Craddock on his way home from his shift at the GAS‘N GO. The persistent banging on the door grew louder over the noise of the marshal’s gunfight.

Even though he’d seen the classic TV Western many times, Buddy Lee punched up the volume even louder, so as not to miss any action when Miss Kitty came down the staircase in the Long Branch. He jogged down the hall to the kitchen, flipping on the light switch as he passed. “All right, all right, I’m on my way.
 
Hold your horses, for
cryin
’ out loud.”

He yanked open the back door, ready to ask Scooter what his damn problem was, but nearly swallowed his tongue instead when he saw the shadowed figure standing there.

“What the...Faith?” Buddy Lee’s heart slammed against his ribs so hard he had to grab the doorframe to keep from falling flat out when his legs suddenly went boneless. He had to be dreaming, because the girl in those dreams stood there with tears streaming down her face, gulping great big sobs between words Buddy Lee couldn’t make heads nor tails of. And she was a full-fledged woman, for
cryin
’ out loud! The high-voltage charge that ripped through his body made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He shivered like someone had walked on his grave.

“I yelled and yelled, Buddy Lee. Didn’t you hear me?
 
C...can I come in? Please? I don’t know where else to go.”

Faith Morgan was the last person Buddy Lee ever expected to see at his back door—or any door, for that matter—but the outright fear in her eyes told him this wasn’t a social call.
 
Now, why did that tie his insides in knots?

“Hey...hey, don’t cry. C’mon in.” Puzzled, and more than a little shocked, he took her arm and drew her inside, giving the door a shove behind him with one bare foot, but not before he shot a cautious glance up and down the street.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Faith. Are you hurt?” His imagination conjured up a thousand reasons for her appearance, but they were all fantasies. Not a logical one in the bunch.

“I’m in trouble, Buddy Lee.” Tear-bright green eyes held him captive. “I can’t marry Royce and I need you to help me.”

Her plea hit the soft place in Buddy Lee’s heart. A place where he’d kept her memory hidden for oh so many years. But her last statement threw Buddy Lee’s brain into shock.

“What do you mean you can’t marry him? You’re kidding, right?” He did a quick math calculation. “Today’s Monday. Your wedding is Saturday morning. What’s the problem?”

Even though he hadn’t seen Faith in a long time, he knew about her engagement to Royce Webb, her father’s right-hand man at the bank. Their upcoming nuptials had been the main topic of gossip in the tight-knit community for the past couple of months. Oh, yeah, he knew all right.

Buddy Lee kept asking her questions while he steered her down the hall toward the living room, kicking his discarded boots and socks out of the way as they went. He jerked a dirty work shirt off the doorknob, tossed it into the bedroom, and yanked the door shut. Shoot, he hadn’t expected company.
 
Especially not her. Not in a million years.

“Here, sit right here.” He fumbled to rid the sofa of a pile of old newspapers, the last three issues of
Classic Cars
magazines and a couple of articles of clothing he didn’t particularly care to have Faith see. He tossed the whole mess on the floor behind the sofa and patted the faded, blue plaid cushion, the imprint of its last occupant still obvious in the way it dipped and sagged. Funny, he’d never noticed how worn-out the furniture looked until now.

The shock of seeing Faith in his living room was rendering him speechless. He couldn’t believe she was actually right here—right now. And that set his mind racing with a long list of reasons as to why. None of them made a lick of sense.

Faith finally sat and he hunkered down on one knee beside her. “Look, Faith, I hate to keep asking the same question, but what’s going on? Why aren’t you marrying Royce?”

Trying to keep his voice steady was almost impossible, since his heart kept pounding like an out-of-sync piston. He looked down to make sure the thing hadn’t jumped out of his chest, then zeroed in on Faith’s face. Big mistake.

She must’ve been crying for some time, because her eyes were all puffy and red and she kept sniffling until finally, he reached in his back pocket for his handkerchief, checked to make sure it was clean and handed it to her. “
Here.
”

“Buddy Lee,” Faith whispered between hiccups and sobs and wiping her nose with his handkerchief.

“Yeah, what is it, Faith?” He held his breath. Oh, man, if she didn’t tell him what was wrong pretty soon, he was gonna explode.

“I just didn’t...I mean, there’s no one else I can trust.” She blew her nose real loud, then gave him a pleading look that tugged at his unprotected heart something fierce.

A lock of cinnamon-brown hair fell across her cheek and stuck in the damp track of her tears. Without thinking, he reached up to tuck it behind her ear, caught off guard when the wayward strand’s silky texture rasped against his rough fingers.
 
The seductive sensation made him want things he knew he shouldn’t. Of their own accord, his knuckles skimmed across her soft cheek as he withdrew his shaking hand.

“You can always talk to me, Faith. You know that.” He eased up and sat next to her, real careful not to sit too close.

Since he was a good deal taller than Faith, he had to hunch over to hear what she was saying. The urge to put his arms around her was eating him up. He’d never so much as hugged her in all the years he’d known her. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, because he reckoned he’d loved Faith Morgan for about two
forevers
. That was something he’d never told anyone, not even Scooter and especially not Faith. Wasn’t going to, either. That’s what was making it so hard to keep from reaching for her now.

“Look, Faith, if you’re in trouble, I need to know what it is. Otherwise, how am I gonna help you?” He was slipping back in time, barely hanging on to his good sense. Knowing Faith had been the only good thing in his life when he was seventeen.
 
Rescuing her from her daddy’s wrath so many times made him feel like he amounted to something besides white trash, but Faith left town after graduation, and he accepted the fact that those good feelings were a thing of the past.

Even though she’d been a rule-breaker as a teen, landing in hot water time after time, one significant fact of life never changed. Faith was fancy—the daughter of the town banker—and right up there in Liberty’s small, but oh so proper society.