Love Song (2 page)

He chuckled. “Just Aunt Della’s.”

“What? No ladies trying to reel you in?”

A faint blush touched his cheeks. “Oh, I manage to get invited to dinner now and then. And I return the favor, but there’s nobody I’m especially attached to.”

A bright red mini-van pulled up beside them and stopped. The left front window slid down smoothly, and an elderly lady peered out. Her pure white hair was drawn up in a tight bun on the top of her head, but her deep blue eyes were just as clear and sharp as Andi remembered from senior English class. “Giving driving lessons in the middle of Main Street, Wade?”

“No, ma’am, Miss Atkins. I’m picking up a hitchhiker.” He leaned back so their former teacher could see Andi more clearly. “You never know who you’ll find wandering around downtown.”

“Good afternoon, Andrea. I’m sorry that you’re ill. From your appearance, you should still be in bed. You’re as peaked as bleached bones.”

“My thoughts exactly,” whispered Wade.

“Gee, thanks,” Andi mumbled back. “You’re probably right, Miss Atkins. I was going stir crazy, but I tried to walk a little too far.”

“Of course, I’m right. I heard on the radio that you’re suffering from anemia and exhaustion as well as trying to recover from pneumonia. They didn’t know where you were, or if they did, they weren’t saying. Now, let this handsome young man buy you dinner—he can probably afford a hamburger or two, but you’d be better off with liver. Then you take her right home, Wade Jamison.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they answered automatically and in unison, then both laughed. Miss Atkins merely nodded in approval.

“I like your van,” said Andi, barely hiding her amusement. “But I never thought you’d get rid of your old ’49 Hudson.”

“I still use it to drive to church, but now that I’m retired, I wanted something a bit more modern to take on trips.” She grinned, her eyes dancing with merriment. “This one has all the bells and whistles.” With that comment, she drove off to the tune of “The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You” blaring from a special horn.

“I don’t believe it! What happened to her? Except for her hair turning white, she looks just like she always did, but she sure doesn’t act the way she used to.” Andi shook her head. “I would never have imagined her driving a red mini-van.”

“She bought it the day after she retired. Said she’d challenged all the minds she could and molded as many lives as she cared to, that she’d been a straight-laced, prune-faced spinster school teacher long enough, and it was time to have some fun.” Wade rolled up the window and started the truck, driving down to the next cross street and turning around. He flipped on the heater as he continued, “She’s done a lot of traveling in it. Went to New England last fall and is planning to drive across Canada this summer. She goes country line dancin’, too. Picks places where they have good music but don’t get too rowdy. She’s still a proper lady.”

Andi stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” He nodded as if he were sharing some profound wisdom. “From what I hear, she does some real mean boot scootin’. Of course, her boyfriend probably has something to do with it.” He turned at the grocery store and headed north.

She eyed him warily, uncertain as to whether or not he was pulling her leg. “Who’s her boyfriend?”

“Old man Garner.”

“The undertaker?”

“The one and only. He doesn’t look much like an undertaker when he’s all decked out in his Western duds. And they really aren’t so old. Barely sixty, I think. They’re nice people. I’m glad they’ve found each other. I think it would be sad to live to a ripe old age and never have someone special—someone to care for and who cared about you.”

Andi leaned her head against the back of the seat, wondering if in a way she were like Miss Atkins. For ten years, her career had been the only thing that mattered. All her energy, time and thoughts had been focused on becoming a success. She had achieved her goal, at least a good measure of it, and found it hollow. Fame had not eased her loneliness; money had not filled the emptiness in her soul. She kept telling herself that things would be better when she got well. It had become a litany to keep her going, something to cling to when she wracked her mind for new music and found nothing. Would she wind up rich and famous but all alone? Would she discover at the end of the road that it was all for nothing?

Dimly, she realized Wade had stopped the truck. She pushed aside her dreary thoughts and looked around. They were parked in front of the Lazy Day, the hamburger joint where all the kids had gathered when she and Wade had been in high school. Judging from the crowd of young people present, things hadn’t changed much. He shifted his position, leaning at a slight angle against the door, and casually laid his arm across the back of the seat. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

“So, what’ll it be, songbird? Want a hamburger? Or shall we go all out and make it liver burger?”

Laughter bubbled up from deep within her soul. “Cheeseburger, a large order of fries, and a Cherry-Coke.”

He took off his blue cap with
Jackson’s Feed Store
printed on the front and tossed it on the dusty dash. Smoothing back his light brown hair, he said, “I don’t know. Now you’re running into real money. Adding cherry flavoring to the Coke gets expensive.”

“Only if they have to go to Washington and pick the cherries.”

He chuckled and placed their order through the intercom next to the truck. Turning back to Andi, he smiled. “If you’re good and eat all your dinner, I’ll buy you a hot fudge brownie sundae for dessert.”

She groaned. “If I ate that much, I’d never make it up the porch steps. You’d have to carry me.”

“I think that could be arranged,” he said softly.

Andi met his gaze and caught her breath. Mischief, warmth and something intangible yet intriguing glowed in those hazel eyes.
I’ll bet it could
. And if she read the signs right, he wouldn’t mind it a bit.

Neither would she.

“You did what?” Dawn Carson set an iridescent blue and purple Carnival Glass bowl on the kitchen table, admiring it for a second before pinning her cousin with her gaze. “How did you run into Wade Jamison when you were under doctor’s orders not to set foot outside this house? Did he sneak in the back door and crash into you when you came down the hall?” The petite blond carefully inspected Andi and shook her head. “Nope, that can’t be it. You’d be covered with bruises if you collided with that big galoot.”

Andi laughed. “He’s not a big galoot.”

“Hmmm. Do I detect a bit of interest?” Dawn pulled another item from the box sitting on the ladder-back kitchen chair and carefully removed several layers of white tissue paper from around a matching Carnival Glass water pitcher.

“How many pieces of this did you find?” Andi leaned closer, admiring the slightly raised image of a peacock curving around the pitcher, the shimmering blue, purple, and green tail feathers spread in the shape of a regal fan.

“Just these two. Quit changing the subject.”

“I’m not. I’ll buy them from you.”

“Nope.”

“But they match the vase Grandma Henderson gave me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m giving them to you for your birthday. No, you don’t have to wait ten months and don’t get all weepy on me.”

Andi’s eyes grew misty anyway. They’d been doing that a lot lately. “Thanks, cuz.” She ran her finger lightly over the bowl, remembering how much her grandmother had prized the vase her grandfather had won at the fair.

“I’m just glad I rescued them. I found them at a garage sale last week, and the little gal had no idea of their value. They were way under priced. She had inherited them from a great-aunt and thought they were pretty, but she needed money a lot more than fancy glassware. She was such a sweet little thing, very pregnant, and so excited about the baby.” Dawn shook her head. “She was hardly more than a child herself. Couldn’t have been a day over eighteen, and her husband might have been nineteen.”

“Two bits you paid her what you could sell them for.” Andi took a bite of apple and watched a faint blush spread across Dawn’s face.

“Well, I didn’t go quite that far, but I couldn’t rob her.”

Andi laughed. “Some antiques dealer you are. I thought that was the whole idea—find a good deal, buy low and sell high.”

“It is, and that’s what I try to do most every chance I get. But this time was different.” Dawn sat down at the table and picked up a snickerdoodle cookie, nibbling on it.

“You just have a soft heart.”

Dawn’s expression grew thoughtful. “It was more than sympathy. God wanted me to help those kids, to share his love with them. He wanted them to know he had his hand on them, and that they, and their baby, were special to him.”

Andi had the apple halfway to her mouth, but instead of taking another bite, she set it down on the table. “So now God talks to you? Out loud?” She cringed at the cynicism in her voice, but she couldn’t buy what her cousin was saying.

Dawn smiled. “No. It’s more like whispers in my heart.”

“Word for word?”

“That time it basically was. Usually it’s just a feeling, like letting my conscience be my guide or maybe intuition. Sometimes it’s something more.”

Andi grabbed the apple and chomped into it. She knew all about conscience. Hers had been working overtime for months. She shuddered inwardly to think what “something more” would be like—not that she was a particularly bad person, but she wasn’t a saint, either.

She’d tried to keep going to church after she moved away from home, but eventually gave up. Working at a variety of jobs during the week and singing on Friday and Saturday nights had taken their toll. Sometimes she had worked on Sundays, too, and when she hadn’t, it had been the only day to catch up on her sleep. She knew God couldn’t have been pleased with some of the honky-tonks where she had worked during those desperate early years in the business. Later, when she began touring as the opening act for various big name performers and then became a headliner, she was almost always on the road.

God had seemed far away for a long time. She was sure that if he ever glanced her way, he had a frown on his face. Yet, she was curious to hear the rest of Dawn’s story. “So how did you explain why you were giving her more money?”

“I said exactly what God told me to say.” Dawn dunked another cookie in a small glass of milk and caught the bite in her mouth before it crumbled into the liquid.

“Just like that? No reservations or fear and trembling?”

“It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t exactly eloquent, but I knew if I didn’t do as God asked, I’d regret it, and we’d all miss out on a blessing. After I shared with her, she hugged me with tears running down her cheeks. Her husband blinked back some tears, too. She told me that every time they get low on money, God sends someone to help them.”

Andi tossed the apple core toward a wastebasket sitting beside the back door, grimacing when it splattered on the floor a few feet short of the goal. Before she was half-way out of the chair, Dawn had retrieved it and dropped it into the wastebasket.

“That was the most pathetic throw I’ve ever seen, especially for somebody who used to be star of the girls’ basketball team.” Using a paper towel, Dawn quickly wiped up the apple juice and pulp left on the floor. Then she was at Andi’s side, taking hold of her arm. “Come on, sickie, time for you to stretch out on the couch.”

Andi obeyed gratefully. She stretched out on the pale green sofa, resting her head on a plump pillow embroidered with multicolored tulips, and let Dawn spread an bright yellow afghan over her.

“After your nap, you can tell me about meeting up with Wade.”

“Sure.” Andi smiled and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of tender, hazel eyes, and strong arms holding her tight. The dream changed, and she was dressed in a flowing, yellow, silk gown. Her hair was covered by a matching gauze veil that sparkled with diamonds. Leaning out a window in an ancient castle tower, she threw red roses down to Wade who stood below. Dressed as a knight, with the sunlight glinting off the helmet he held in one gloved hand, he laughed as he caught each flower.

Behind him was a lush green meadow filled with people milling about. Suddenly legions of faceless, screaming fans stormed toward the castle. Still clutching the bouquet, Wade dropped his helmet and turned to defend her.

The crowd melted into a huge fire-breathing dragon. As Wade reached for the sword at his side, his armor disappeared. He stood weaponless against the onslaught, with nothing more than his cowboy shirt, jeans, boots, and a bouquet of wilted roses to protect him. The dragon issued a challenge, scorching the grass at her hero’s feet. Wade took a step forward to meet his foe, and Buckley’s antique fire engine roared across the meadow, siren blaring.

Andi sat up with strangled cry. Disoriented, her heart pounding, and skin damp, it took her several seconds to realize the phone was ringing. Hearing the shower running and Dawn singing away, she untangled herself from the afghan and hurried to the telephone. Answering, she sank down in a nearby kitchen chair and tried to clear the fog from her brain.

“Hi, Andi. This is Wade.” There was a tiny pause. “Did I wake you?”

“Yes.” She shoved her hair back out of her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

He sounded so contrite that she smiled. “It’s okay. I was having a nightmare anyway.”

“Did you go out on stage and forget the lines to a new song?” he teased.

“Worse. Godzilla was after me. He was trying to flame broil everything in his path.”

“That is bad. Did you get away?”

The warmth in his rich bass voice sent goose bumps skipping over her skin. There was no way she was going to tell him about his starring role in her dream. “I guess so. Old Number Two was rolling up to put out the fire when I woke up. I thought the ringing of the phone was the siren.”

He laughed softly, and Andi closed her eyes, picturing his smiling face. She was surprised by how much she wanted to see him again. Since the phone was cordless, she walked to the living room and sat down in a yellow, rose print, overstuffed chair. Turning sideways, she laid her head against one fat chair arm and draped her legs over the other, feeling like a school girl with a new beau.