Cowboy Sing Me Home (39 page)

            He was thrown off enough
that he actually nodded and picked up the spiral notebooks he’d written on. 
Then he dropped it back onto the stool.  “No, I’m not going to play this game,
Dusty.  I’m not going to pretend like nothing happened last night.”

            “Oh, I know we need to
talk,” she said, her fingers dancing lightly over the strings of her guitar. 
He noted with satisfaction that she dropped a couple of notes along the way,
the only indication that she wasn’t as focused as she pretended to be.  “I just
thought it would be better if we wait until after tonight.

            “I think it would be better
if we do it now.”

            She played on for a few
seconds, then stopped and hugged the guitar to her. “Are you sure?  Because it
could get awkward.”

            He stuffed his hands in his
pockets.  “I think I can handle it.”  He wouldn’t push, he reminded himself. 
He would let her back up as much as she needed to, and he would stay right with
her, but he wouldn’t push.

            She took a deep breath and
flattened her lips.  “Okay,” she said, her tone making it clear she had her
doubts.  She folded her hands on top of the guitar and turned her eyes to his. 
“This is probably going to be difficult for you to hear, but… when two people
make such an instant connection on stage like we did, it’s easy to get carried
away with it and think it will carry over, off the stage.  I’ve seen it
before.  When two people are compatible, musically, there is a strong
temptation to make more if it than there is.  I’m sorry if I led you to believe
there was more between us.”

            He reached out and took the
guitar from her.

            “What are you doing?”  She
stood and tried to take it back.

            “I want you to say this to
me without hiding behind your guitar.”

            “That’s ridiculous.  I’m not
hiding behind anything.  I’m trying to be honest—“

            “You’re being everything
but.  You expect me to believe all that’s between us is a little
musical
compatibility
?”

            “A
lot
of musical
compatibility.  I’ve never played with anyone who could practically read my
mind the way you can.  Every change I throw at you, you’re already there.  You
play like –”

            “Don’t you dare insult us
both by trying to flatter your way out of this.  That’s beneath you, Dusty, and
beneath me.”  He glared at her, so angry and more frightened than he’d ever
been.  He’d known she would pull back, but he’d never dreamed she would pull
back this far.  This wasn’t just an ‘
I need space’
speech.  This was an
‘I
was never really here’
speech.

            “All we have is the music. 
Is that what you’re saying?”

            She reached for the guitar
again.

            He held it out of her
grasp.  “Is that what you’re saying, Dusty?”

            She glared back at him, her
eyes darting from his face to the guitar.  “I’m sorry.  But yes, that’s all we
had.”

            “And the way we are
together, the talks we’ve had…” He stepped close enough to see the fear in her
green eyes, to see the way her lips trembled and the way her breath came fast
and shallow.  “The way I make you feel.  That’s all about the music.”

            She swallowed and nodded
slowly.  “Yes, Luke.  That’s all.”

            “And last night?  When you
finally broke down and opened up to me, and I held you.  That was about the
music.  And later, when you said you loved –”

            “That was a mistake!”  She
whirled away from him, her fists clenched and chest heaving, then turned back
just as quickly.  “The whole thing was a mistake, and one I don’t intend to
make again.”

            Hurt and anger pierced him,
and he had to fight to remain calm. “Dusty, you don’t mean that.”

            “I
do
mean it.”

            The sincerity in her eyes
and desperation in her voice cut as deeply as the words themselves did.  They
had shared the same experience.  He knew beyond doubt that last night – every
second of it – had been the most significant, meaningful night of his life.

            She thought it was a
mistake.

            She turned and took a few
steps away, her hands folded around her middle, clutching her sides.  Holding a
guitar that wasn’t there.  It took everything he had not to reach for her.

            Instead, he said softly and
deliberately, fighting for calm, “You don’t mean that.  You’re just afraid,
since you let me get close to you.  You’ve made up your mind not to get close
to anyone again.  Because if you get close to anyone, you run the risk of
losing, again.  And having your heart broken.  Again.”

            She went still, her back to
him.

            “Isn’t that right, Dusty?”

            After a moment she nodded. 
She turned , slowly, looking him in the eye, and she nodded again.  “Yes,” she
said, her voice as soft as his.  “That’s exactly right.”

            The need to hold her was
almost overwhelming, but he was afraid that if he got any closer she would push
him away.  He held her gaze with his own, praying that she could find something
in his eyes to hold on to, something to trust and believe in.

            “You told me in the hospital
that loving someone that much was worth whatever price you had to pay.  You
told me it was worth the pain.  Isn’t it worth the risk?”

            They stared at each other
for a lifetime, for eternity, while he waited for her to respond.  He knew that
his life, his own heart, hung on her answer.  He knew her well enough by now to
see the war being fought inside her. 

It was little consolation,
knowing how close he’d come to winning, when she shook her head.

            “I lied,” she said, her
voice suddenly cold and her face stony.  “Nothing is worth going through that
again.”

            Desperation had him finally
reaching out to her, taking her by the upper arms and squeezing.  “No.  What we
have is special.  You know it is.  You love me.  And I love you, more than I
thought I was capable of loving anyone.  You can’t just shut it down because
you’re afraid something
might
happen.”

            She stepped back and pulled
her arms free.  “Yes, I can.  It’s my decision to make.  No matter how I feel
about you, I am choosing to walk away intact, this time.”

            Luke leaned over and
whispered to Dusty, “Keep playing.”  He stopped, lifted his guitar over his
head and nodded to the choir that everything was okay.  He stood and leaned the
guitar against his stool, then hobbled to the table and picked up a pencil and
a piece of paper and scribbled something on it.  It took some doing, getting to
the fire with his gimpy leg, but he dropped the paper on it, watched it turn
black and curl up.  He met Dusty’s eyes for a second, before she bent her head
back to her guitar.  He shrugged, then turned to the crowd with his hands in
his pockets.

            Brother Mark held out the
microphone with raised eyebrows and a tilted head, and Luke nodded and took
it.  What he was going to say, he didn’t really know.  He looked out at the
crowd, breathing in the fresh smell of wet grass, clean air, feeling the cool
breeze on skin that hadn’t felt cool in longer than he could remember. 

            Even now, he wondered if
this was a good idea.  It could blow up in his face.  It could give the entire
county something to gossip about for months.  It could be the final death knell
in his parents’ marriage.  But if ever there was a time…  “I want to ask
forgiveness of someone else.  Not for myself, but for each other.”

            He took a deep breath, the
effort making his ribs creak, and shifted his weight from a leg already
complaining about standing too long.  “For as long as I can remember, my
parents have been mad at each other.  For what, I don’t know.  I’ve tried to
talk to them both about it, and neither one is talking.  Frankly, I don’t think
either one of them remember, at this point.  Something happened, or some
things
happened, a long time ago, and when two fierce, stubborn, strong-willed people
like they are get mad at each other, it takes some doing to get things back in
line.”

            The crowd watched,
enthralled at the drama unfolding in front of them, and Luke suddenly felt
beyond foolish.  He shouldn’t have done this, he thought.

            But it was too late to back
out now.

            “I’ve learned a few things
over the past couple of weeks.  I know, I know, you all probably thought I
already knew it all.  I know I did.”  He swallowed and breathed a little easier
when the crowd laughed lightly.  “I’ve learned that when you love someone, you
open yourself up to them, and hand them the power to hurt you like no one else
can.  The two – the joy, and the pain – go hand in hand.  Mom and Dad have
closed themselves off from the pain, but they’ve closed themselves off to the
joy, too.  The joy of each other, of having that one person in the world they
can share their heart with.  Mom has friends all over town.  So does Dad.  But
I’m challenging them both, right now, to put aside their defenses, and become
friends with each other again.  Because I’ve also learned over the last few
weeks that the gift of a lifelong relationship isn’t a right.  It’s a
privilege. It’s rarer than I ever knew, and it is a sin and a waste to take it
for granted.”

            He could feel Dusty staring
at his back.  He wanted to turn around, to look into her eyes as he spoke, but
he knew that if he looked at her now, he’d be a goner.  He’d break down and
blubber like a baby.  So he looked back at his mom.  Who was staring at his
dad, across the sea of faces.  Who was staring back.

            Neither one moved.

            It would be a miracle, he
thought.  This would be a full-fledged, fourteen carat miracle, if either one
of them made the first move.  If they could forgive each other, there was hope
for anyone. 

            Even him.

            Realization came with enough
force to make his knees buckle slightly.  He was holding his breath, pinning
all his hopes and plans on whether or not his parents took him up on his
challenge.  If they did, then he knew things would work out for him and Dusty,
somehow.  If they didn’t…     

            If they didn’t, then he
could continue to be a coward and use his parents as an excuse not to pursue
the woman he’d never even allowed himself to dream of. 

            He had never been so ashamed
of himself, until that moment when he realized he was using his parents as an
excuse to run from his own fears. 

            You’re not really going to sit here and
use someone else’s mistakes as an excuse to make your own, are you?  Turn
around.  Go after her.  Either fight or quit.

           
I’m fighting
.  The
decision was instant, and terrifying, and glorious. 
I love her
.  No
matter what else happens, he thought grimly, she wasn’t leaving Aloma County
without a fight.

            He felt physically rocked by
the decision, filled with enough adrenalin to make him weak.  He turned to look
at Dusty, to fill his eyes with her and seal the decision in his heart.  As he
did so, he saw movement in the corner of his eye, and heard a gasp go up from the
crowd. 

            He didn’t know who moved
first, but as he and the rest of the county watched, his mother and father
moved slowly at first, then a little quicker, and suddenly they were rushing
across the crowd to each other.  Someone yelled, and a few people clapped, and
then the evening was full of whooping and cheering and more than a few tears.

            “Go get her, Claude!”
someone yelled.  His dad’s face was red, and his mom rolled her eyes, but by
the time they reached each other they were both grinning and his mother was
crying.  She opened her arms for a hug, but instead he grabbed her, swung her
around and down into a low dip, and kissed her long enough to bring a standing
ovation.

            When he brought her up, her
face was as red as his, and she giggled and put her hand to her cheek. 

            Luke was grinning so wide
his face felt like it was going to split.  He clapped until his palms stung. 
“It’s a miracle,” he shouted.

            Claude waved a shooing hand
at them all, but still he smiled and kept one arm tight around his wife, who
beamed up at him like he was her own personal hero.

            Luke wanted to share this
moment with Dusty.  He wanted her to see what kind of miracles love could
bring, if you weren’t afraid to take that first step.

            It took him a minute to get
turned around, and when he did he had to fight his way through the choir, and a
melee of well-wishers who wanted to pat him on the back and shake his hand.

            He nodded and laughed and
hugged his way through the crowd, so glad this happened when Dusty could see
it.  No one in their right mind could say they didn’t believe in love, after
what had just happened.