Love Song (21 page)

***

The police roped off all three blocks of downtown Main Street for the benefit dance. The stage was a flatbed trailer parked in the intersection of Chestnut and Main. The museum committee had men posted at every corner of the cordoned off area, taking and selling tickets and stamping the hands of those who paid, so they could come and go at will.

Folding chairs borrowed from a couple of churches lined the sidewalks near the buildings. More chairs were set up in the museum, along with a refreshment center run by the newly formed Friends of Buckley Museum. Wade thought most of the women in town and the surrounding area had baked cookies to be sold for a quarter a piece. Dawn had talked the local soft drink distributors into donating cases of beverages for them to sell. A large supply of paper cups sat by the water fountain inside the building. There was no alcohol, and all the advertisements for the benefit had asked people not to bring any since this was a family outing and all ages were invited.

At exactly seven o’clock, Dawn scampered up the steps to the stage and took the microphone, handling the welcome and announcements like a pro.

Wade was pleased that Andi wore the vest he had given her. It looked particularly nice with her red blouse and light-weight denim skirt. “Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?”

“Only a couple of times,” she said with a teasing smile. “But you can always tell me again. It must have something to do with the vest.”

“It does look nice on you. I’m glad you like it.” They moved expertly across the street, waltzing in a smooth, easy rhythm to the music. “But, sugar, you’d be beautiful wearin’ a feed sack.”

“And scandalous.” She laughed, revealing her dimples. “I like your shirt,” she said, running her finger across the pattern woven into the lustrous, emerald green material. “It’s a nice color for you, brings out the green in your eyes.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he drawled, pressing his hand against her back and guiding her forward as he moved backward to avoid colliding with another couple.

“Say, cowboy, I think you lied to me.”

“Never, darlin’.”

“Well, you stretched the truth by giving me the impression you weren’t a good dancer.”

“I never said I couldn’t dance. I said I don’t line dance.”

“Why not?”

“All that hopping around and kickin’ and wigglin’ your feet every which way. I do enough of that dodgin’ cows.” When she laughed, he led her into a gliding turn. “And this way, I get to hold onto you.”

At first, he worried about having his time with Andi interrupted by fans, but he soon saw that though many recognized her as they danced, they merely smiled and left them alone. He didn’t know whether it was because they had seen the CMN segment, or they simply realized she was on a date like everyone else, but he didn’t care.

The song ended, but Wade and Andi remained on the dance floor, stepping lively to the next tune, a fast tempo Western swing. They started out side by side, then she crossed in front of him, and they shifted the position of their hands. He twirled her around, pulled her close, then spun her out again. He drew her back beside him, and they moved several steps forward before repeating the earlier spins.

“I told you your boots would be smokin’,” she said with a bright smile.

“Just scorched. The night is young.”

“And I can tell I haven’t been exercising as much as usual.”

“Do you need to stop?” he asked, instantly concerned. He kept moving forward instead of spinning her.

“I’m all right. I’m having too much fun to stop.”

The band, The Rustlers, was quite good, and the five young men were enjoying themselves. The lead singer ended the song with a rousing “Yee-ha!” then announced that the next one would be slow. “Now that we’ve got your blood pumping, we’ll let you rest a bit. This is dedicated to all of you who are in love. And maybe a few who wish they were.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Wade put his arm around her.

Andi looked straight into his eyes and put her hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t miss this dance for anything.”

As he held her in his arms and began to move in a slow Texas Shuffle, the crowd faded away. They existed in a world made for them alone. She rested her temple against his jaw, her contented sigh warming the side of his neck, and love welled up in his heart. The song ended far too soon.

“I’d better find something to drink. I’m supposed to sing after the next two songs.”

Wade rested his hand at the small of her back as they wove their way across the crowded street to the museum. She stayed by his side as he bought a can of root beer and a Dr Pepper. “Want a cookie?”

“Not now. But I’ll be dying for a brownie later.” She winked at Harold, who was handling the cookie sales at the moment. He smiled and set a brownie aside for her. “Better make that two, or Wade will eat most of it.” He laughed and did as she asked.

They found a couple of chairs near the window. “How did your practice with the band go this afternoon?” Wade took a long drink.

“Good. They know all my songs, so it was easy to pick some.” She drank some of the Dr Pepper and watched the crowd.

“Think we’d better make our way over toward the stage?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Pre-show jitters. Nervous excitement. I always get it right before I go on.”

They started toward the stage. “I’m surprised you still get nervous. I’d think it would be routine by now.”

“Each audience is different, and somehow, each performance is different.” As they neared the steps to the stage, she grabbed hold of his hand.

“Hey, your hand is ice cold.” He clasped it firmly with his own and stopped walking. When she halted, he searched her face. “You really are nervous.”

“More than normal. I haven’t done this in a while. Not since I was sick. What if my voice cracks, or I forget the words or hit a wrong note?”

He put his arms around her and held her gently. “Nothing bad is going to happen. And even if it does, folks will understand. Everybody here loves you, Andi. They’re thrilled with the chance to hear you sing, and it won’t matter a bit if you’re a little rusty.” The song ended, and he looked up, meeting the lead singer’s gaze. Wade nodded, then gave her a little squeeze, plucked the soft drink can from her hand, and escorted her to within a few feet of the steps. “Send them to the moon, sweetheart.”

Dawn ran up and gave her a hug. “Thanks, cuz. You’re the greatest.”

“Get out front, you two, or you’ll miss the show.” Andi smiled at them, took a deep breath, and moved to the bottom step, resting her hand on the rail.

Wade and Dawn worked their way through the group of dancers waiting for the next song until they were far enough back for a good view but still close enough for Wade to quickly return to the stage steps when Andi was through.

Someone spotted Andi standing at the bottom of the steps and word spread like wildfire. The crowd surged forward, dancing forgotten. Standing beside Wade, Dawn was jostled by the excited fans. He put his hand on her arm to draw her over in front of him, but stopped when Grant Adams moved in behind her. When she looked at Wade, he smiled and released her arm, shifting his gaze to Grant and tipping his head slightly.

Dawn glanced over her shoulder, and Grant lowered his head, speaking directly into her ear to be heard over of the noise. “Ma’am, if you could scoot up a step, Wade and I can block you from the crowd. A little thing like you could get squished and nobody would know it.”

Dawn did as he suggested, and he followed so that he stood even with Wade and behind her. She looked back to thank him, but the band leader addressed the audience over the microphone, making it impossible to be heard. So she smiled and mouthed “thank you,” and was rewarded with a hint of a smile in return. Turning her gaze to the stage, a little thrill shivered through her. A cleaned up Grant Adams was even better than the hard-working man, although he still made her think of an outlaw.

“Folks, we’re glad you’re enjoying our music, but we’re smart enough to know you didn’t come to see The Rustlers. Your wait is over.” The lead singer turned toward the steps and held out his arm. “Ladies and gentlemen, Buckley’s pride and the lady you all came to see and hear—Andi Carson!”

The crowd went crazy, screaming, whistling, and clapping. The noise level increased as Andi ran up the steps and onto stage, a brilliant smile on her face. He handed her a microphone, and she greeted the audience. “Are y’all having a good time?”

The nearby windows rattled from the roaring response.

“I’m having fun, too, dancing to The Rustlers’ music. Aren’t they great?”

Another roar of approval.

“I want to thank you for supporting our new museum and for coming out tonight. I hope you get your money’s worth.”

“Just seein’ you standin’ there healthy is worth every penny and then some!” a man called from the audience. Everyone clapped and whistled. Wade heard more than one hearty “amen.”

Andi blinked back tears and hung her head for a few seconds. She moved the microphone away and cleared her throat, smiling at the crowd, and they quieted down. “Thank you.” She had to clear her throat again. “Thank you for all the good wishes and especially for your prayers. Without those prayers and God’s loving grace, I wouldn’t be here today.” She took a deep breath and grinned mischievously. “Now, before I go and get all weepy, we’d better do some singin’.”

She nodded to the musicians, and they started in on a rollicking number that was a combination of country and rhythm and blues. She pranced across the stage, belting out the first line, and the crowd went wild, clapping and stomping their feet in time to the music.

Wade half expected some of the old buildings to come crashing down, but he didn’t look to see if they were shaking. He was mesmerized. She had transformed right before his eyes, going from insecurity to being in complete control of herself, the music, and the audience. She drew the spectators into the fun, teasing the men one minute, and pointing out the error of their ways the next, nodding in agreement with the women. Like a consummate actress, her facial expressions and body movements changed to fit each line of the song. Musically, she never missed a note, hitting high and low and everything in between with breathtaking power and clarity.

When he had seen her perform in Boulder, he had been amazed and enthralled, but even there, with all the fancy lights and special effects that were missing here, she had not been so vibrant, so alive. So joyful. The song ended to deafening applause, and her smile became radiant.

No man could give her the adulation and sense of power that she got from an audience.

“Whoo-ee!” Grant leaned closer so Wade could hear him. “Your woman is something else.”

My woman.
He clung to the thought like a lifeline.

The next song was a high speed boogie-woogie that had Andi, as well as the folks on the fringe of the crowd, dancing energetically. Then she changed the pace again on the third tune, this time to the joyful beat of Western swing.

Wade felt his dreams slipping farther away with each new song.

She paused a minute to catch her breath and picked up her guitar from a stand at the back of the stage. Slipping the strap over her head and across one shoulder, she stepped back to the microphone and grinned. “Time to slow down before I wear out.”

She played the slow solo introduction to a song which Wade, and almost everyone else, recognized as her most recent hit single, a melancholy tale of love gone wrong. It had reached number one on the charts. He had expected her to sing it due to its popularity but braced himself for the feelings he knew it would evoke. Her eyes drifted closed, and her voice grew thick as if she were holding back tears.

He clenched his fists until they ached and looked past the stage, unable to watch her beautiful face. Was she only acting out the emotions portrayed in the song, or did she feel them in her heart? Was she merely making music to touch those who listened, or was she telling him good-bye? Somehow, he stood still when he wanted to flee, lasting the length of the song, and even clapped when it was done.

Grant looked at him, his eyes filled with concern. “It’s just a song, buddy.”

Dawn heard him and glanced up at Wade. When she stretched up on tip-toe to speak to him, he lowered his head. “Don’t look so forlorn. She’s only singing it because everyone expects her to.”

He smiled, knowing she meant well, but he didn’t believe her.

Andi looked back at the band. “Looks like we’ve got everybody wallowing in sorrow.” The band all nodded in unison, wearing mournful expressions. A ripple of laughter went through the audience. “Reckon we’d better brighten them up?” They nodded again, and the drummer hit a snappy beat. The rest of the band quickly joined in, and Andi swung around toward the crowd, looking directly at Wade and flirting shamelessly.

Give me a man I can call my own,

A six foot hunk who’s big and strong,

The kind of guy who likes to dance,

A sweet talkin’ man who loves romance.

The song was on her first album, and she once said she had written it to be a little silly, but his spirits soared anyway. Maybe there was hope after all.

When the audience joined in on the chorus, she winked at him and looked away, moving around on stage to include everyone for the rest of the song.

“Thank you, you’ve been wonderful!” She waved, blew a kiss to the crowd, and started to leave, but they began to chant her name, begging for more. She looked at the band leader, and he grinned, pointing back to the middle of the stage. She shrugged, smiled, and walked back to the microphone to tremendous applause. After a few minutes, she held up her hands to quiet them. “Thank you.” She smiled sweetly. “How can I resist when you ask so nicely?”

“I’d like to share a new song with you, one I wrote recently,” she said, absently strumming chords. “When I was a little girl, my great-grandmother told me how my great-grandfather, who had been a cowboy, spent months trying to capture a beautiful wild mustang. This is Great-grandpa Buck’s story, and I have a feeling it is only one of many I’ll be telling over the years, even though I never knew him.