Nashville by Heart: A Novel (13 page)

Gillian
held the phone close. “Well?”

A
slow smile spread across his face. He started to say something, but his voice
broke a little.

“Will?”

He
placed his hand on his heart, shaking his head back and forth.

“Ms.
Gillian Heart, I’d like to sign you on the spot,” he teased.

“So
you liked the song?”

“Darlin’,
I loved it.”

Her
heart brimmed with a crushing desire to feel Will’s arms around her. “Nothing
like the blues to inspire a new song.”

“It
kills me to think I’m the reason you left Nashville. Tell me when you’re coming
back.”

“You
aren’t the reason. And anyway, you miss me, don’t you?”

“You
don’t know the half of it.”

“I
kind of miss you too.”

“Then
tell me when you’re coming back to be my client.”

“I’ll
be your client.” She smiled at the phone screen. “I’ll be more than that, if
you’re asking.”

He
grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m asking.”

~~~~

Louise
knocked on Gillian’s bedroom door right before seven a.m. on Sunday morning.
Gillian’s eyes felt like they were glued shut after another late night of
talking with Will on the phone. They hadn’t worked out every little thing yet,
and he was still not ready to give up the idea of her moving in with him, but
they both agreed she had to get back to Nashville.

“I
love you, darlin’,” he’d said, and she was slush.

“Oh
heavens, Momma. I can’t go to church. I’m too tired.”

“Well
you’re the one who said I should wear my new shirt to church, so you’re going.
Get up.”

Getting
up early on Sundays was one of the things she didn’t miss about Gold Creek Gap,
but when her mom said get up, she had no choice. Soon the house would be alive
with the scent of a country breakfast of biscuits, gravy and sausage, and if
she wanted to eat, church was always a part of the deal.

“Did
I ever tell you Will was a preacher’s kid, Momma?”

“You
didn’t.” She dished Gillian’s plate high with biscuits and gravy. “Did his
parents have to force him to go to church on Sundays too?”

“Sounds
like it. Sounds like he was quite the bad boy.”

“He’s
changed?”

Gillian
thought of how Will treated her, all he had done for her.

“Yes.
He has.”

“Changed
by love,” Louise said.

Gillian’s
phone buzzed. “Who could that be this early on a Sunday?”

“It’s
probably Will, honey, telling you to enjoy church.”

Gillian
read the text and smiled. As usual, her momma was right.

After
the sermon, cookies and punch were being served in the lobby. It was comforting
how some things never changed, one of the things she could always depend on in
Gold Creek Gap. She reached for a pink sugar cookie shaped like a flower.

“Gillian
Heart.” It was Mrs. Wooten, her fifth grade teacher. “I sure wish I could make
it over to Nashville and hear you sing something.”

Gillian
smiled. “You’d love Nashville, but I’ve sure missed this town.”

Several
women, many she knew from school, crowded around her. One of them piped up.
“Why don’t you sing one of your songs for us right now?”

Gillian
looked around the full church. Hardly anyone had gone home yet. She smiled,
touched, but reticent to start singing like she owned the place.

“Go
on,” Louise said, but Gillian shook her head.

“I
don’t have my guitar. I left it out at Momma’s.”

Mrs.
Wooten patted her arm. “Please sing a little song for us. Everybody wants to
hear.”

Gillian
looked around at the expectant faces. What a bunch of nice people. When one of
them produced a guitar from the stage, she gave in. People were starting to
gather around. What choice did she have?

She
sat on a stool that somebody placed behind her and strummed the guitar once,
noting it was already tuned. “It’s just a silly love song.”

“There’s
no such thing as a silly love song,” said the preacher’s wife as she moved to
stand beside Momma.

Gillian
began to play, the notes dancing around the room in a summery, breezy rhythm
that had the crowd tapping their toes and nodding their heads to the beat. Her
momma smiled approvingly, and Gillian grinned back. She was having fun. She
didn’t care about Cooper Heart right now. She knew she would always be a
singer, no matter how long her dad stayed gone. She would sing even if he
didn’t come back.

Someone
started to clap to the beat, and she thought the only thing missing was lyrics
more fitting a church gathering, but it was a love song. Love is everything,
and wasn’t that what they’d all learned about during the sermon that morning?
She didn’t have to work hard to remember the words, even though it was new. The
song flowed out even better than it had when she’d sung it for Will, and as she
watched the admiring faces of her small town friends and the proud smile on
Momma’s face, a memory of singing for those same folks when she was a little
girl sprang to mind. They’d been her first audience, and here they were, still
cheering her on. She wanted to thank them, so after that song, she struck up
another, one they’d know the words to, and then another after that.

When
she plucked the last note, everyone applauded enthusiastically. She smiled and
was purposeful about thanking them for their support, as well as praising them
for their cookies. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had food so good,
not even at The Sweetest Tea where she’d told them she used to be a waitress
before her agent discovered her. They were interested in hearing about that
too, so with a nod and a smile from the preacher, she ended up being the focus
of a question and answer session.

The
sweetest part was when a little girl asked her, “Can I have your autograph?”

“You
betcha,” she said. “You know, I was about your age when I started singing
myself. Do you sing?”

The
little girl nodded, and soon there were a handful of children plying her with
questions, and even one lovely teenage girl hovering in the background. She
made a mental note to ask her momma who the girl was. Maybe she could encourage
her, and the idea of it made something stir inside Gillian. Maybe she could be
the inspiration for other small town kids to follow their own dreams.

Eventually
people went back to visiting, and the children went back to playing. When she
finally broke away from old acquaintances whom she’d wanted to catch up with,
she gave back the guitar and headed for more cookies. She’d been telling the
truth about how good they were.

“Gillian,
dear.” She felt a hand on her arm. It was Aunt Cher, who’d always tried to help
them out after her dad left. “You are so talented, honey. Just like your
daddy.”

“Thanks,
Aunt Cher.” What else could she say? Her father was Aunt Cher’s brother. Cher
had tried for years to get him to call Gillian, but he never had. Gillian knew
her aunt meant well, but she wished she’d just give up.

“My
brother is a stupid man, but I want you to know something. The last time I
talked to him…”

“Oh
no,” Louise said, coming up to Gillian’s side. “You didn’t call him, did you,
Cher?” Cher and Cooper Heart were known for the huge sibling arguments they
used to get into when her dad still lived in Gold Creek Gap.

She
looked guilty. In spite of herself, Gillian’s heart skipped a hopeful beat.

“I’m
sorry. I had to. He needed to know what he was missing when it came to his
girl.” Aunt Cher would have had no way of knowing the fresh pain her dad’s name
had caused her, but her momma did.

Louise
slipped an arm around her waist. “What did he say?”

“He
didn’t say nothing.”

Gillian
wasn’t surprised, but the news still hit her in the chest. He didn’t even care
enough to ask. Why would Aunt Cher tell her this?

“Well
that no good excuse for a…” Louise began, letting go of Gillian and planting
her fists on her hips.

“Momma,”
Gillian whispered, “it’s no big deal.” But they both knew it was.

“He
didn’t say nothing,” Aunt Cher said, “because he was shocked, and then he
started crying. I hung up on him after that. I just wanted him to know what he
was missing out on, sugar. But he cried like a blathering baby, so proud he
was.” Cher smiled, her mission accomplished.

Gillian
saw the look on her momma’s face and knew she was trying to discern how this
news made her daughter feel. She’d spent the last decade trying to protect
Gillian, and her aunt shouldn’t have called him, even if she’d meant well.
Cher’s timing was terrible as usual, no matter how sincere.

“Thank
you, Aunt Cher.” She gave her a little hug, remembering they were in a church,
and turned to her momma, who looked like she’d been hit by a truck. They were
both ready to go home.

But
home, Gillian now understood, was Nashville. With Will.

“I
can’t tell you how good it was to see you with that guitar in your arms again,
darlin’.” She spun, shocked to hear Will’s voice.

He
was standing in the church’s open double doors holding his cowboy hat in his
hands and wearing one of his best black western shirts with the pearl snaps.

“How
long you been standing there?” Her heart hammered. Unlike Aunt Cher, his timing
couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Long
enough to see you sing like the musician you were meant to be.”

Gillian
nodded, thinking that maybe when it came to music, Will was the only one who
truly knew who she was now.

“You
crazy thing, Will.” She rushed toward him. “I missed you.”

“I
missed you too.” After a long, tight hug, he let go of her just enough so he
could have a look around.

“This
church reminds me of the one I grew up in.” He reached for a cup of punch.

“It’s
kind of small,” Gillian said.

“I
like the small churches best,” he said. “But they sure are hard to find in
Nashville.”

“About
Nashville,” she said quietly.

“About
Nashville,” he said. “We need to talk later.”

A
wave of shame swept over her, and she couldn’t wait until later. She whispered
so that only he could hear. “Oh my gosh, Will. I’m so embarrassed how I ran off
like a kid. I’m an idiot.”

“Not
an idiot,” he said, his own voice low. “But the record executives have been
waiting for two weeks to meet with you, darlin’. They’ve guessed that your
creative vacation is a sham. They’re worried you won’t be able to handle the
life of a recording artist.”

Her
heart sank, all of her dreams swirling around with it and threatening to go
right down the drain. Her happiness from the previous moment threatened to seep
out as a stream of tears. She wondered what she would tell her mom, what she’d
tell all the people she’d just sung for.

“So,
they probably want to cancel my contract,” she said.

“Not
yet,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Maybe if you bring them back some good
songs, they’ll forgive you.”

She’d
give anything to go back and not be so reckless. Leaving town like that was the
stupidest thing she’d ever done. And over her dad! She shouldn’t have ever made
him important enough to destroy her dream. She gazed at Will, trying to gauge
how bad it was. She had a feeling Will hadn’t told her everything yet.

“What
about you?” she whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

“If
you go back,” he said, his face serious. “And if you’ll sing that song for your
record label, the one you wrote about me.”

“Only
if you stay here with me today. We’ll go back tomorrow.” She twisted her face
in a comical expression, knowing it might not be an option.

“Just
today,” he said. “Besides, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than stay in
this charming little town, but you need to be in a meeting tomorrow afternoon
if you want to save this.” She could see he was totally serious as he reached
for a cup of punch. He held it up.

“To
saving your record deal.”

“I
don’t think you’re supposed to toast in church,” she said in a half-hearted
effort to lighten the mood. He touched his paper cup to hers anyway, then set
it down on the table beside them.

“What
about kissing?” He placed a hand on his chin, considering. “Is that allowed?”

“Only
at weddings,” she said, and then reddened. Hopefully he didn’t think she was
suggesting he propose, although she wouldn’t have minded that.

His
eyes sparkled. “Let me try to remember. I think kissing in church is one of the
reasons my dad kicked me out, but come here anyway.”

“Really?
You still want to kiss me after I’ve messed everything up?”

“Mmm
hmm.” He kissed her cheek.

“Are
you trying to get kicked out of church again?”

He
laughed, studying the slight form of the smiling preacher across the church
hall.

“I’m
a lot bigger than I was back then, and I think I could take
him
if he
tried, but make no mistake, I know how to be a gentleman around a girl like
you.”

He
pressed his lips to hers, lightly, so as, she presumed, not to scandalize the
church ladies. He pulled away, making a good show of being an appropriate
gentleman. This, to Gillian’s surprise, brought a few disappointed boos and
some good-humored shaking of heads from the ladies standing around,
particularly Aunt Cher, Mrs. Wooten, and amusingly, the preacher’s wife. She
caught sight of her momma, smiling next to Aunt Cher.

Will
smiled broadly and said in a low voice. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint the ladies,
now would I?” Then he winked at them, which nearly sent Gillian’s momma into a
fit of giggles.

Gillian’s
face flushed, but she let herself enjoy the show, especially when Will wound a
hand around her waist and the other along the back of her neck, dipping her
low, and kissing her in a way that was romantic enough to prompt oohs and ahhs,
and a few gasps, from the ladies.

Gillian
believed he left them just a little bit, delightfully, scandalized.