Chapter Three
True says you’re worried. Don’t be. You’ve still got me to be mad at. Someday maybe you’ll tell me the real reason why.
Zee didn’t know why she kept listening to that stupid message. The first time it had been merely to confirm—because she knew her brother would ask—that he’d done as True had told him and called. And it was his voice, with that low, slightly rough quality that made her feel as if he’d brushed guitar-toughened fingers over her skin. But his tone was hardly pleasant. It was short, the words clipped. It lacked any of Jamie’s natural charm, and certainly wasn’t something she wanted to hear repeatedly, in either tone or content.
And yet she kept playing it. And had been since she’d gotten the replacement phone she’d had to wait for, and been able to check voice mails.
Someday maybe you’ll tell me the real reason why.
The real reason? Seriously?
No, that wasn’t fair. He’d been ever honest. He’d never, ever told her he would stay. The opposite in fact. He’d made it very clear he’d be gone as soon as he could manage it. And when she’d decided with all the foolishness of her young heart—and body—that her first lover simply had to be him, she’d told herself she was all right with it.
You don’t want to do this, Zee. Not with me, not when I’m hitting the road as soon as the band is ready.
She’d brushed off his noble impulse. I’ll deal with that then.
It wasn’t his fault that afterward, she couldn’t believe he still meant to go. Because what they’d found together was so amazing she couldn’t believe anyone would leave it voluntarily.
Of course, there was always the possibility it hadn’t been quite so amazing for him. That idea had hovered since the day he’d done exactly as he’d said and left Whiskey River in the rearview mirror. And it had only added to her turmoil.
You were way too mad at him…
Her brother’s words jabbed at her anew. She let out a short, sharp breath. Did every male in her life think they had her figured out? Although Jamie wasn’t really in her life. Not anymore. Because he hadn’t been able to wait to get out of Whiskey River, for all his declarations that he loved his hometown.
Belatedly she realized the sound she’d made sounded suspiciously like a huff. And she refused to be That Woman, the kind who whined when a man did exactly what he said he was going to do.
Spurred by a jolt of self-disgust, she belatedly kept her promise to True and made that call. And couldn’t deny the burst of relief she felt when it went straight to voice mail, as if the phone had been turned off. She was greeted by the pre-installed mechanical voice announcing only the number she had reached and to leave a message. She supposed he’d done that to preclude anyone who hit the number by accident from realizing who they’d actually gotten.
“It’s Zee. I got your message. Thank you for calling. I’ll tell my brother you kept your word.” She hesitated, not sure what else to say. “Sorry about your friend.”
She disconnected, knowing it was abrupt, but if she’d kept going she was afraid she’d say something she’d regret.
She walked over to the window, looked out at the quiet street. She would have understood it better if he’d hated it here. If the memories made it too painful to stay. That she could live with. She’d wondered herself if she might be happier someplace else, with fewer memories. But Whiskey River was her home and had her heart. She could never leave her brother, the only family she had left, and when it came right down to it she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else anyway.
Apparently Jamie couldn’t imagine living here. And she supposed that was the crux of it; she was having trouble accepting that the boy she’d loved so passionately didn’t exist anymore. That on top of it all he’d become a hypocrite, writing and singing songs about home and how much he missed it, but avoiding it as if he loathed every inch of it.
That it still mattered to her was infuriating, but the nausea and chill that had overtaken her when she’d read that mistaken headline—fine lot of good their retraction and apology an hour later had done—was undeniable. Apparently all her efforts to dissociate herself from the Hometown Boy Made Good had been for nothing.
Her mouth tightened and she made herself focus on what she should have been doing instead of listening to that silly message. She finished setting up the new phone with her preferred notification tones—leaving the Scorpions riffs, after some hesitation—and re-downloading some apps that hadn’t made the transfer properly. The only thing she didn’t duplicate was the search and alert feature assigned to the band. That, at least, she would break herself of. She—
The knock on the inside door was True’s decisive rap. Hope’s was lighter, quicker, her brother’s solid and stronger. Just as they themselves were.
“Open,” she called out.
The moment he stepped in she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. One look at his face told her she wasn’t going to like whatever he said. And True-like, he cut to the chase.
“I’m heading to Devil’s Rock. Jamie’s coming in.”
“Lucky you.” There. Her voice had been nicely neutral. “Coming home to lick his wounds? Lucky Whiskey River.” The dispassionate tone wobbled slightly. True tactfully ignored it.
“He was coming anyway, for the wedding. Now it’s just a little early. Do you want to come along?”
She blinked. Lost the neutrality completely. “Why on earth would I?”
“Because,” her brother said, “nobody else knows he’s coming yet, and I thought you might want to see him the first time in…controlled circumstances.”
“Controlled?”
“As in not half of Whiskey River looking on. Shouldn’t be many at the airfield on a Tuesday afternoon.”
“I did fine on the Hope flight.”
That’s what they’d taken to calling the marshaling of forces to help Hope take her life back. And Jamie had been front and center in their little army—she’d had to admit that—providing the sleek little jet that had flown them all to L.A. where Hope had, with a half-dozen of them at her back plus two more added on the other end, faced down and ended the trouble that had sent her on the run.
“Fine if you don’t count staring darts at him the whole way.”
“I didn’t.”
“Okay, most of the way.”
She knew she was arguing with him to stall for time to think. Because he had a point. As her brother usually did. It just might be better to have her first encounter with Jamie—and it would happen because Whiskey River wasn’t that big—someplace more private than, say, in front of Booze’s statue in the town square. With her luck Martha, the town gossip, would be passing at just that moment. And no matter how much she told herself she was over him, it wouldn’t be the kind of friendly, happy greeting old friends reunited would be expected to have. She wasn’t that strong.
“Get it over with, sis,” True said.
“Did you tell him? That I might be coming?”
Her brother’s mouth quirked. “You mean did I warn him? No. I only said we’d be there to meet him. I didn’t say which ‘we.’ I love him like a brother, but you are my sister.”
“And you are ever loyal,” she said softly, diverted for a moment by this man she was lucky enough to have for a sibling. “Hope is a lucky woman.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“You’re both about to make me gag.” She smiled to take any edge out of it.
“And Jamie’s the only one who has ever put my rock-solid sister on tenterhooks.”
“What is a tenterhook, anyway?”
“And he’s the only one who can make you dodge like that.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “All right, all right. I’ll go. Get it over with, as you said.”
“Good.”
“But don’t blame me if he gets ticked at you for bringing me.”
True grimaced. “I’ll be hiding out in the hangar.”
“And what makes you think we won’t both come after you?”
True’s voice was suddenly very serious. “I’d welcome it. Just to see you two united again.”
They took her car for the back seat, but she told True to drive. Which gave Zee time to think about his words all the way out to Devil’s Rock, the airfield named for the distinctive rock formation at one end of the runway. Could it be possible? Could they reach a sort of peace?
She signed inwardly. She knew who would have to let go for that to happen. Because she was certain, in his mind, Jamie had nothing to let go of. So he didn’t mean those songs—so what? They were still beautiful. He’d hit it big. It was too much to expect him to hang out in little Whiskey River. And she was glad for him, truly, he’d had a dream and he’d made it happen.
They heard the plane before they spotted it. They watched the sleek little jet circle for an approach. This was hardly a busy airfield, but things were happening here and it might not stay that way for long. Zee wondered if Keely Rockford was at the controls. She’d met the woman briefly on the Hope flight, and had been impressed with her easy demeanor and quiet skill as a pilot. She’d learned then that Jamie always requested her when they used the service, which was often enough that this aircraft was used almost exclusively by the band.
As the plane touched down—smooth and steady, she noted—she wondered where the rest of them were, those talented musicians who had lost one of their own.
“Is this just him?” she asked, thinking she should have thought of it before.
“Yes,” True said, watching as the jet taxied their way. “He sent everybody else wherever they wanted to go first.”
“Oh.”
True glanced at her. “He’s still a good guy, Zee.”
“Just not the guy who left here seven years ago.”
“Of course not. He was barely twenty. And none of us are the person we were then.”
She could not argue that. But she had the feeling Jamie had changed more than any of them. How could he not, given the world he had dived into so whole-heartedly?
They walked over when the little jet came to a halt. Zee could see it was indeed Keely in the cockpit. A couple of minutes later, she took in a deep breath when the hatch door opened. Steadied herself. She would stay cool, greet him like anyone else would, and then the worst would be over. Her tangled emotions were her fault, not his.
To her surprise, it was Keely who emerged first. Tall, trim, and California tan, she looked as she had before: cool, professional, and competent. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple tail at the back of her neck today. She spotted them, and came quickly down the steps.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said quietly. “He needs home right now.”
True nodded. “I got the feel.”
“I’ve been flying them nearly a year now, and I’ve never seen him like this,” Keely said. “The others are in rough shape, the shock and all, but Jamie…he’s been in a mood for a while, but now he’s…”
Zee frowned as the woman ended with a slow shake of her head. Jamie was nothing if not resilient. And he hadn’t known the new guy all that long. But she and True knew better than most, having gone through it twice, that losing people never got easier.
And then there was a movement in the hatchway. She looked up, thinking herself braced for her first glimpse of him.
But there was no way she could have braced for what she saw.
…not the guy who left here seven years ago.
Her words, it seemed, had been a vast understatement. This wasn’t even the guy who had flown in here two months ago. His eyes were hollow, with dark circles beneath them. He had always tended toward the lean, rangy side, but now he was even leaner, to the point of gauntness. He even moved differently, his easy, supple grace seemingly vanished as he made his way almost hesitantly down the steps, slightly bent as if the weight of the single guitar case slung over his shoulder was much greater than she knew it likely was. An image of him from two months ago, when he’d agilely deplaned sliding with his hands on the rails and never touching the steps shot through her mind. Any trace of that nimble man was gone.
But most of all, what was missing was that crackling, vivid charisma that charmed without effort, because it was inborn in him. There was no trace of it now, no easy, captivating smile, no flash of fun and invitation to join in shone in those green eyes that looked strangely flat. The upbeat, confident guy who was on top of the world was nowhere to be seen.
She didn’t doubt now that Keely had been right—there was more going on. As if Derek’s senseless death had been the final catalyst.
This Jamie Templeton was nothing but a hollow shell.