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  LOVE SONG

  Buckley, Texas Series

  Sharon Gillenwater

  When famous country singer Andrea Carson returns to her hometown to recuperate from a serious illness, she seeks nothing more than a respite from the demands of stardom that have sapped her creativity and ability to perform. With the help of Wade Jamison, an old friend from high school, Andi soon realizes that she needs inner healing as well. As Andi’s faith and strength grow, so do her feelings for the rancher who has captured her heart. But can she convince him that their relationship will withstand the stress of her career? Or will their romance be as fleeting as a beautiful Love Song?

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Current Novels by Sharon Gillenwater

  Visit Sharon’s Website

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  Soaking up the bright sunshine of a March afternoon, Andrea Carson glanced up and down the deserted Main Street of Buckley, Texas. As she sat on the curb, she watched a baby whirlwind romp across the dirt lot of the farm implement company on the next block, playing peek-a-boo behind big, green John Deere tractors and tall cotton strippers.

  She had been away ten years, but some things hadn’t changed. As her grandfather was fond of saying, they rolled up the sidewalks at five o’clock in the evening and put them back down at nine the next morning, except on Sundays, when they didn’t bother with them at all. Jackson’s Hardware and Feed Store was on the west end of town. Three blocks to the east, Greene’s Grocery—still the only store open seven days a week—marked the other end of the business district.

  Findley’s Apothecary sat midway between them, with its dark red brick walls and a faded green canvas awning shading the front. Andi couldn’t remember when the awning had been bright green. No one else seemed to, either. The drug store was closed on Sunday, but if someone was in urgent need of a prescription, Mr. Findley’s phone number was posted on the door.

  But many things had not remained the same. The post office, library, and Citizens Bank—all a block north of Main Street—were the only other occupied buildings downtown. The rest of the store fronts were vacant.

  The Five & Dime, where she had spent practically every cent of her baby-sitting money on country music albums, had closed the year she headed for Nashville. Knox’s Department Store, where old Mr. Knox had tucked away the prettiest blue prom dress this side of heaven just for her, had closed a year later. Over time, the other businesses had simply faded away.

  Buckley looked as worn out as she felt.

  A sudden gust of wind sent a chill clear through her. Andi turned up her collar and pulled her coat sleeves down over her hands. It was only four blocks back to Dawn’s house, but she didn’t think she had the strength to walk that far.

  “Dumb, Andi. Real dumb. After more than a week in bed, you should have stayed in the yard,” she muttered. Down the street, a beige pickup truck backed out from Greene’s Grocery, but she barely noticed. Two-thirds of the pickups in West Texas were some shade of pale brown. She’d always figured it was so the dirt wouldn’t show as much. Cupping her chin in one hand, she leaned her elbow against her knee and wondered if the police chief would arrest her if she fell asleep on the sidewalk. “At least then I wouldn’t be so bored,” she said with a sigh.

  Even as she spoke the words, she knew her problem wasn’t boredom. It didn’t matter if she were center stage in a sold-out concert hall or the only person on a Buckley street corner, she would be just as lonely, her heart just as empty. It will be better when I’m well. Andi closed her eyes. It has to be.

  ***

  Wade Jamison stepped on the brake, slowing his pickup, and stared at the woman sitting forlornly on the curb. He’d dreamed of her so many times, especially during the first few years after she left, he could recognize her even a block away. Her dark brown hair was shorter than it had been when they were in high school, but he had noticed that the first time he saw her in a music video. Instead of flowing across her shoulders, it fell from a center part to slightly past her chin, framing her face in a gentle sweep of soft, rich velvet.

  He eased the truck to a halt in the middle of the street and quietly rolled down the driver’s side window. She was too thin, yet more lovely than ever—sweet, beautiful Andrea, whose smile had once been the only brightness in a world of gloom. The most popular girl in school, she should have ignored the awkward, shy boy who moved to Buckley the second month of their senior year. But she hadn’t. When he’d been assigned the seat beside hers in English class, her welcome had been warm and genuine. Over the next few weeks she had become his friend.

  And Wade had fallen in love.

  As he studied the delicate features that had haunted his memory for so many years, an intense longing swept through him. Heart pounding, he glanced away. Andi had never known how he felt about her. He’d never even asked her out. The first time he heard her sing, he knew she was destined for a world far bigger than Buckley, Texas. Easy, cowboy. You’re not a kid anymore. Don’t go wishin’ you could rope the moon.

  Taking a deep breath, Wade looked back at her and frowned. She appeared exhausted and still hadn’t opened her eyes. He shifted into Park and turned off the engine. “Hey, songbird, you’re gonna get arrested for vagrancy,” he called softly.

  Her eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked a couple of times, obviously disoriented. Then her gaze fell on him, and a smile lit her face, flooding his heart with sunshine. “Wade!”

  She stood with effort and walked slowly toward the pickup. The sickly pallor of her fair skin worried him, as did the dark circles beneath her big, brown eyes.

  “Did you take the wrong exit off the freeway?” he asked with a smile, resting his arm along the open window of the truck. “I thought you were supposed to be up in the Pacific Northwest about now.”

  A hint of unhappiness flickered across her face, then she smiled again, dimples appearing in each cheek. “You keeping tabs on me, Jamison?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Got to keep up with Buckley’s most famous person.” Everyone in the county knew that her three albums had hit the top of the country music charts and that her last two had each sold over a million copies. A year earlier, she had been nominated for Top Female Vocalist at the Academy of Country Music Awards .

  Folks in Buckley had been glued to their television sets during the awards ceremony. When she didn’t win, many of the women cried, and more than one man growled a threat to go to Nashville and “give ’em what-for.”

  Wade held out his hand, and Andi laid hers in his open palm, squeezing gently. He wrapped his fingers around her icy ones. “You’re freezing!”

  “The wind is colder than I thought it would be.”

  Wade released her hand. “Get in. It’s warm in here.” Andi stepped back as he got out of the truck. Moving past him, she grabbed hold of the steering wheel, put one foot inside on the floor and hoisted herself up toward the high seat, barely reaching it. When she teetered on the edge of the seat, he quickly stepped up to steady her, resting his hand on her back, bracing her body against his so she wouldn’t fall. She was trembling. “You okay?”

  “Pretty wobbly. I’m getting over a bout of pneumonia. Guess I shouldn’t have ventured out so soon.” She glanced up at him, her eyes
revealing not only her weariness but also a deep sadness.

  “Rest a minute. I’m not in any hurry.”

  She whispered her thanks and relaxed against him, laying her head on his shoulder.

  “I’ve been down in Mexico and out of touch with most of the world for the past three weeks,” he said. “Just got home last night, otherwise I probably would have heard that you’ve been sick. Are you staying with Dawn?”

  “Yes. Got here on Thursday. Doctor said I needed rest and peace and quiet.”

  “I’m not sure how much of that you’ll get at Dawn’s. That gal’s got more go than the Energizer Bunny.”

  A smile touched her face. “She can tone down when she wants to. Besides, she’s out of town at a big antiques show. She’s had her booth reserved for ages.”

  Wade was quiet for a few minutes, giving her a chance to rest. “Did you have to cancel the rest of your tour?”

  She nodded. “Fourteen shows. My manager is trying to reschedule as many of them as he can. Missing them took a big bite out of our paychecks. The boys in the band were real nice about it, but I feel rotten. Some of the guys have families, and I know they needed the money, but they wouldn’t let me pay them until we do the shows. At least the rest of the crew took their full checks. I never realized how hard it could be, having so many people depending on you.”

  Her voice trailed off, and Wade fought the urge to put his arms around her and promise her that he would make everything all right. He had never known Andi to be dejected. She had met every situation head-on, changing course if necessary, but always with unflagging enthusiasm and determination.

  God had given him a deep compassion and sensitivity to the pain of others, but the ache in his heart went far beyond that gift. His turbulent emotions surprised him. He was ready to move mountains or play David to some unknown Goliath—anything to protect her, to shield her from harm. To his dismay, Wade realized he was still very vulnerable where this woman was concerned. Perhaps even more so than ever. I know we didn’t meet here by chance, Lord. And I know she can never be mine, but let me be here for her. Show me how to help her.

  He inhaled deeply, trying to calm down—and only succeeded in breathing in the heady sweetness of her fragrance. “You still wear the same perfume,” he said softly, and instantly wanted to kick himself. She straightened and looked up at him, her expression filled with wonder. As she scooted across the bench seat to the passenger’s side, he climbed into the cab and smiled, hoping to cover his blunder. “Is it still the only kind that doesn’t make you sneeze?” She nodded, and he forged on as he shut the door. “Remember when ol’ Pete made such a big deal out of giving you that quart bottle of cologne for your birthday and insisted that you put some on right then? What was it called?”

  “Night Fantasies. It was horrible.”

  “It worked as a room deodorizer, even if it did smell kinda like moldy pine needles. At least it covered up the stink from the rolls the lunchroom lady crispy crittered.”

  “I didn’t notice. I was sneezing too hard.” Andi laughed and met his twinkling gaze. He’d always had beautiful hazel eyes, a combination of brown and green, but she didn’t remember them ever being so warm, so tender. He had been good at hiding his emotions, only once mentioning his parents’ divorce, bitterly admitting that he had moved to Buckley to live with his aunt and uncle on their ranch because neither of his parents wanted him around. The Wade Jamison she had known had been deeply hurt and so painfully shy that he barely spoke to anyone. He had looked so lost and miserable that first morning in class that she couldn’t have ignored him any more than she could have turned away a starved puppy in the middle of a hailstorm.

  “What were you doing in Mexico?”

  “My dad was involved in some charity work at several village hospitals. I tagged along to keep him company and help out where I could.” He smiled. “His specialty is surgery. Mine is slappin’ on paint or fixing leaky roofs.”

  Andi suspected roofs weren’t the only things he could fix. He had a way about him, a gentleness that she had barely glimpsed when they were younger. Looking back, she realized they hadn’t spent a great deal of time together, although she had considered him a good friend. She’d had a lot of friends and had often been in the middle of a group, but Wade’s shyness kept him on the outside.

  He had definitely changed for the better. Apparently he had resolved his differences with his father since he spoke of him with affection. Not only was he relaxed and confident, with an easy smile, but his once-gangly frame had filled out nicely. In spite of her tiredness moments earlier, she had been very aware of the hard, muscular chest she was leaning against. With the additional weight, his face was no longer too thin nor was his nose too prominent. Wade Jamison had become a very handsome man.

  Too handsome to be unattached. Andi was surprised at her disappointment. She glanced down at his hand. No wedding ring. Lots of married men didn’t wear wedding bands, especially when they worked with their hands. Was it possible some woman hadn’t nabbed him?

  She tapped his hard stomach. “Looks like somebody’s cookin’ agrees with you.”

  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 w
here 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?”