Her Summer Cowboy (2 page)

“How about we split the difference and I travel with you on tour, don’t sing and you don’t retire?” she said, picking up her own guitar, the one he’d bought her when she was twelve. It was old and beat up and not much to look at, but Gramps had always made sure it was in tune.

They picked out an old mountain tune together and played along. Gramps sang when he felt like it. She loved playing with her grandfather. The music connected them deeply. It wasn’t just a legacy or her heritage. She remembered what her father had always said. For the Jennings-Wells clan music was their soul.

She knew he was trying to figure out a way to get her to do what he wanted. She also knew that if he announced his retirement the record label would pull out all the stops and put a big push behind his tour. And she’d have to honor the promise she’d made to him ten years ago when she’d stopped traveling with him every summer and moved back to Winsome.

“Sorry, girl, but I can’t take that deal. I already told the record company and they are pimping out the bus and sending a crew to record it. You’re stuck,” he said, with a cagey grin.

“Stuck? I guess so. You sure about this?” she asked. “What about next summer?”

“I’m getting old, pumpkin, how manymore summers do I have?”

She felt a lump in her throat and put down her guitar to hug him. He smelled like Old Spice and licorice. He hugged her tightly back. No one else hugged like Gramps. He always made her feel safe. And she knew in her heart she couldn’t say no to this. He was all she had left.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

He pulled back and kissed her on the forehead. “I knew you would. Told them you’d ride with me.”

“Oh, you did, did you? I didn’t make enough carrot juice for you and me all summer long,” she said.

“You can have mine,” he said.

“No way. You need the healthy stuff more than I do,” she said. And though there was still a knot in her stomach as she thought of going on stage, she was happy to spend the summer with Gramps.

The door opened and a large male silhouette filled the doorway. All she could see was a whipcord lean body in a pair of faded cowboy jeans and a big black cowboy hat that hid his features.

“You about done here, Alan?”

“Just about. Hudson, this is my granddaughter Emma Jean, she’ll be bunking with us for the rest of the summer,” Gramps said.

“Howdy, Emma Jean,” he said.

“Just Emma,” she replied.

Bunking with us
? Sharing the bus with Gramps was one thing, but living for the next three months with a man like Hudson was going to be interesting. To say the least.

He was long and lean, so big and tall that his shoulders filled the entire doorway of the tour bus. He stood there making the already tight quarters feel even smaller. But she suspected that was because she was so aware of him.

“Well, just Emma, this sounds like it will be fun.”

“Whatcha thinkin’, girl?” Gramps asked. Whenever he talked all country she knew he had an inkling she wasn’t happy. He did it to soften her up. She loved him but he was pushing it far enough with asking her to be one of his back-up singers, having to deal with the farewell tour and now this—this bodyguard thing.

“I’m thinking that we are going to need a juicer, I definitely didn’t bring enough carrot juice.”

Gramps laughed and Hudson—what the heck kind of name was that anyway—shook his head. She’d have to call her neighbors and see if they’d keep an eye out on her place while she was gone for the summer. She’d turned off the air conditioning when she’d left and emptied the fridge but she had planned on a week away not the rest of the summer. But she smiled because she knew that was what her grandfather wanted and if this really was his farewell tour she wanted it to be perfect.

*

Hudson had to
go and track down Emma Jean. Alan had said to let her have her head, which his dad had said a time or two about his mom so Hudson knew it meant give her some space to sort things out. But he knew that she was ticked off. He was already talking to the other people on the second tour bus but frankly, there wasn’t room for another person. So they were going to be roommates with her grandfather this summer.

He followed the directions that Alan had given him to find the mansion where Emma had gone to park her car. Since he was towing the horses for the show he had his truck and Alan thought that he would be the perfect person to go and retrieve Emma.

Somehow he didn’t think she was going to be as thrilled. He had the radio tuned to a classic country music station and heard George Jones’
Who’s Gonna Fill Their Shoes
as he pulled to a stop in front of Alan’s mansion. It made him wonder how the face of country music would change as the older generation retired.

He’d grown up on artists that were mostly gone now, and their music had shaped him. Men like Alan Jennings and Keith Wells. Keith had had a soulful voice that had made the listeners feel like they were going through the pain he was feeling when he sang.

He got out of the truck but as soon as he climbed the stairs to the front porch, he noticed Emma sitting on one of the large rocking chairs watching him.

“Hey. Alan sent me to collect you,” he said. He hadn’t been this awkward around a woman ever. What was his deal?

He knew that part of his problem was the thought of going home to Marietta had been lurking beneath the surface and seemed to be working its way up with each passing day that drew him closer to being there. He hadn’t really talked to his dad, though his brothers were all excited by the prospect. He wasn’t too sure what his father’s reception would be. He tipped his cowboy hat back and thought that Emma seemed to be in the same pensive boat.

“Thanks. I’m sorry I was sort of bitchy to you. That’s not my normal way but summer tours and country music bring out my prickly side.”

“All country music?” he asked, ambling over to her and sitting down in one of the rockers near her. He pushed the chair in motion trying to look at ease when every hormone he had was on full alert.

There was something about the way her long auburn hair blew in the gentle breeze created by the ceiling fan above them, blowing strands across that face that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. His gaze fell to her lips and he realized he was obsessed with her mouth. What would it be like to kiss her?

Whoa, boy. She’s Alan’s kin and he was Alan’s friend. Sure he’d signed on as part of the crew, but really he’d become friends with Alan while working in a Nashville bar where country stars came to try out their music in front of a live audience. Alan frequented the club part but didn’t drink.

“Not all of it,” she admitted. “Just my family’s songs.”

“I get that.” He truly did. Her legacy was one of the legends and tragedies. He’d listened to Keith Wells’ last CD about a million times growing up.
Sweet Baby Girl
was one of his favorites and in it he heard all the fears that Keith had about watching his daughter become a teenager and get ready to leave home.

Emma
.

He knew the story of her life, as did anyone who’d listened to any of Keith’s songs or even Alan’s. Yet for her they weren’t just country hits, they were chronicles of her life, reminders of her past. Songs he’d listened to when he’d been lonely on the road and missing his momma and home.

“So you’re the bodyguard?” she asked.

“I am.”

“Does Gramps really need protection?” She shifted her position on the chair curling one leg underneath her body. “Should I be worried?”

Hudson shook his head. “Nah, we’re friends and he invited me to come along this summer since I was planning to head back to Montana.”

“What’s in Montana?”

“My family.”

“Why aren’t you there now?” she asked.

“That’s a little personal.”

“Fair enough.” She rocked and the sound of the wood rockers against the porch soothed her.

“The real reason he wanted me along was to be a horse wrangler for him. I grew up on a ranch and have done some amateur rodeoing in my day. Alan’s got it in his head that when he sings
Lonesome Range
I should ride across the stage.”

“That will be interesting. I hope you don’t ride anywhere near me,” she said.

Clearly, she was good at keeping people at arm’s length. But he was good at sneaking in and when he was ready he’d make his move.

“Um…I think Alan plans to have you riding at some point too.”

She groaned.

“Not a big fan of horses?”

“Not really. They’ve always seemed too big and more than a little scary,” she said.

“I guess to a little bitty thing like you that would be the case,” he said. “But the horse your grandfather has is gentle. You’ll do just fine.”

“Of course I will. I’m not going to be the reason Gramps’ farewell tour fails. I mean of course it won’t fail. But I will do whatever I have to—”

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked. She was rambling and from what he’d observed earlier that wasn’t her normal way.

“A little.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist and tipped her head to the side to stare up at him. She had eyes that were sort of cinnamon brown colored.

“Why?”

S
he stared at
him. He was the epitome of everything that she’d run away from when she’d been eighteen. He was a cowboy who lived the life. Not like her neighbors in Nashville who’d like to play the part. He was tied up in this tour that made her feel like she was losing control of her tightly capped emotions. And there was something about the cut of his jeans and his broad shoulders that made her want to jump him, pin him down and have her way with him.

But that was an escape. A harmless fantasy she could use to distract her thoughts from the fact that she was worried about Gramps, and nervous about singing back-up on the old classics.

“I don’t know,” she said after a few minutes. He had a strong, clean-shaven jaw and there was something very solid about him.

“Ah, I see how it’s going to be,” he said in that laconic way that she wished she didn’t like.

“How what’s going to be?”

“You and me. We’re going to be fibbing to each other and pretending for the next six weeks.”

She pursed her lips together and shook her head. Mr. Cowboy over here thought that he could read her. Hell, he probably could. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that once she’d agreed to sing with Gramps and go on this tour that she’d lost a little of the inner peace she’d found over the last ten years.

“I’m not fibbing,” she insisted. “I really can’t define what it is about you. Maybe it’s just that you seem so sure of yourself and your place in the world and right now I’m feeling a little lost.”

She stopped rocking as the truth sank in all the way to her bones. Why was she doing this? She should tell Gramps she couldn’t and though he’d be disappointed he’d understand.

“Why do it then?” he asked.

The same thing she’d been trying to figure out herself. “He’s all the family I’ve got left. I was raised that you do for family, you know?”

He nodded and she wished she could see his eyes more clearly under the brim of that black cowboy hat of his.

“I do know. I’m the same way. Did you know your Gramps and my great-aunt, Tilly, were friends?”

“No. But then he doesn’t talk to me much about the old days anymore,” she said.

“Why not?”

“My daddy toured with Gramps as his opening act. That’s how he met my mom and they fell in love.”

“That’s it? You ignore the past because of how that ended up?” he asked.

“Does it seem cowardly to you? I tried to face it but I guess at eighteen I just couldn’t.”

“But you’re not eighteen anymore,” he pointed out.

“You’re right. I guess that’s another reason why I’m doing this. Once Gramps stops touring and singing I’ll never have the chance to do it again.”

“Gotta prove something to yourself?” he asked.

She sort of did. She wanted to know if she was more like Gramps who could handle the fading spotlight or like her dad who couldn’t live outside of it.

“Don’t we all?” she asked.

“Probably. Listen, I’ve gotta bring you back,” he said, glancing at the battered watch on his left arm. “There’s a rehearsal in forty minutes.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss that,” she said not bothering to hid her sarcasm.

“Listen,” Hudson said standing up and walking over to her. He squatted down next to her chair and put his hands on the arm rests to keep her from moving. The scent of pine and leather wafted toward her.

Their eyes met. Her pulse hammered in her ears and she had to swallow because her mouth was suddenly dry. She wanted to pretend she was surprised to see the intensity in his gaze, but the truth was he was so close she was all but surrounded by him. It had been a while since she’d been this close to a man who could turn her on without even trying.

“I get that your granddad manipulated you into this and it’s not easy for you to do it. So we’re going to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” she asked. He was bossy and she wasn’t too sure she liked that.

“You can be your sarcastic self around me but you smile and play nice around Alan. He’s become a good friend to me and while I don’t approve of the way he forced you into coming, I know it means the world to him. Your anger will steal some of his joy at spending the summer together.”