to the core.
BILLY’S drive from New Orleans to Nashvile was
long and uneventful. The uninterrupted hours of
interstate, with country radio stations fading in and out,
gave him a great deal of time to plan a strategy, at least
a short-term strategy. The first day he arrived he would
find a hotel, look for a day job to help with expenses,
and then look for a more suitable place to live.
As the first few days passed, he missed his family
terribly but was nonetheless energized with the infinite
possibilities of the unknown. Nashvile was his new
home, and for as long as it would have him, he was
happy to be there. The first week, as planned, he
searched the want ads for a position that would sustain
him financialy. He answered several ads and, within a
few days, had a great lead. The position was for a
foreman at a large horse farm in Mount Juliet, just
outside of Nashvile, caled the Lazy H Ranch. He set
up an appointment to meet the owner at ten o’clock the
next morning. It wasn’t his dream job, of course, but it
would pay the bils until he found something in the music
business.
When Bily turned in under the large iron arch
etched with “The Lazy H Ranch,” he looked down at
his watch to confirm he was right on time, nine forty-
five. Bily drove down the dust-covered road, and after
a half mile or so, he saw two large barns on either side
of the drive with what looked like an old farm house
that he assumed was used for command central. When
he got out of his truck, he was looked over, more than
greeted, by a rough and unfriendly looking sort. The
man was short and stocky, carrying about thirty extra
pounds on his frame. His skin was scarred from years
of acne, and his teeth were stained from what appeared
to be chewing tobacco, as indicated by the Styrofoam
cup he spit into. Hoping this wasn’t the owner, Bily
introduced himself and learned the man was a ranch
hand named Buck Stevens. Buck directed him to wait
near the east barn and someone would be with him
shortly.
Bily waited around for about forty-five minutes,
and no one approached him. He was about to go back
and remind Buck that he was stil waiting when he saw
a tal, ruggedly handsome man walking in his direction.
The man, who reminded him of an older version of the
Marlboro Man from the old cigarette commercials,
walked up and offered his hand.
“Hi, I’m Jules James. I’m the owner of the ranch.
Are you Wiliam Eagan, by any chance?”
“Yes, sir, but I go by Bily.”
The two shook hands and looked each other over
for a few seconds before Jules broke the silence. “I had
just about given up on you, son. I thought your
interview was at ten o’clock.”
“It was, sir,” Bily replied. “I arrived at nine forty-
five, and Buck told me to wait at the east barn and
someone would be with me in a minute. I was just
about to go back and see Buck when I saw you
walking over.”
“That’s funny,” Jules said. “I told Buck to have
you meet me at the west barn. I have a mare about to
foal and I want to be there in case there are any
problems.”
“I’m sorry about the confusion, sir,” Bily said.
“Would you like me to come back?”
“No problem,” Jules answered. “Why don’t you
walk with me to the west barn and we can have a chat
along the way.”
“Yes, sir,” Bily said, and the two men headed to
the stables.
On the short walk, Bily filed Jules in on his
experience with horses and why he was in Nashvile.
Jules, of course, had heard the same story many times
before but listened intently and offered words of
encouragement.
They soon reached the stal housing the expectant
mother. The mare was lying on her side, and as they
watched her tense up every few minutes, it was
apparent she stil had some time before she’d deliver.
Bily thought she looked a bit distressed but held his
tongue and tried to get a better gauge on the situation.
As they examined the mare more closely, Jules
continued to tel Bily about the ranch operations and
the job he had available. After the examination, Bily
was sure something was wrong. More convinced now,
he mentioned it to Jules.
“Good cal,” the ranch owner said. “I was just
about to tel you I’m certain the foal is breached.”
Bily spent the next several hours helping Jules try
to get the foal in the right position for a natural birth.
Eventualy they succeeded, and by late afternoon the
little fily was born healthy.
Once the danger had passed, the two men,
impressed with each other’s abilities, cleaned up and
headed back to the tack room to put the supplies away.
As they entered the tack room, Buck was filing up the
feed barrels and looked up and eyed Bily.
“Wel, Bily,” Jules said, “I’m pretty impressed
with your knowledge and skil. As far as I’m
concerned, I’ve seen as much as I need to see. If you
want the job, it’s yours.”
Before Bily could speak, Buck turned around
with a disgruntled look on his face and stormed out of
the tack room, brushing Bily’s shoulder in the process.
“Wow,” Bily said. “What was that al about?”
“Oh, don’t pay him any mind,” Jules replied. “He
interviewed for the job, but I just don’t think he has the
skils to be a foreman. He’s a little hotheaded for my
taste.”
“If I take the job, is he going to be a problem for
me?” Bily asked.
“Don’t you worry, I’l deal with him,” Jules said.
“Does this mean you’l take the job?”
“Yes, sir,” Bily replied, and the two men shook
hands.
On the way back to the office, Jules said, “My
wife and I own a little club on Broadway, and I’m
headed there for a couple of beers, then right back here
to check on our little one. You want to join me?”
Bily said, “Sure,” and within ten minutes they
were on their way downtown.
When Jules’s truck puled up to Jean’s Magnolia
Saloon, they got out and headed inside.
As Jules opened the door to the lounge, Bily’s
eyes struggled to adjust to the dark lighting as he
glanced around. It was much larger than it looked from
the street, he guessed about the size of a smal
supermarket. On one side, a large mahogany bar ran
the ful length of the room. Opposite the bar was a
raised stage with a colorful set of drums, an electric
keyboard, and various musical instruments on stands. In
the center of the room was an expansive oblong dance
floor surrounded by split-rail fencing with openings at
each end and what looked and smeled like fresh
sawdust scattered about. Overstuffed chairs in
numerous groupings, along with high cocktail tables and
barstools, provided ample and comfortable seating.
Jules immediately led Bily up to the bar and
introduced him to a beautifuly matured, very wel-
dressed woman behind the counter pouring beer from a
tap. His first thought was that she must be Jules’s wife
Jean, and his second thought was that she didn’t look
like she belonged behind a bar. She was tal and
slender, about five foot nine and around a hundred and
twenty-five pounds, give or take. Her smile was
beaming. With her dark brown hair and deep brown
eyes; she appeared to be the epitome of joy, strength,
and sincerity. Bily had heard the term “ageless” before
but had never realy understood it. It had nothing to do
with how young a person looked, although this woman
looked very youthful. It was realy about natural style
and confidence.
“Hey, hon,” Jules said, “this is Bily Eagan. He
just joined the Lazy H as our new foreman, but he realy
wants to be a country singer. Bily, this is my wife,
Jean.”
Jean stuck out her hand, and Bily said, “Pleased
to meet you, Mrs. James.”
“Nice to meet you, Bily, and please cal me Jean.
Welcome to Jean’s Magnolia Saloon. By the way, you
any good?”
“Wel, ma’am, I’ve been told I am by more than
just my family and friends,” Bily replied, “and I sure
hope no one’s been puling my leg.”
Jean smiled. “Monday nights once a month, we
have open mic and you’re surely welcome to join us.
Many celebrities got their start here. We have a regular
crowd of talent scouts that hang around on open mic
night just to see if they might just catch the next best
thing.”
“When’s the next one?” Bily asked.
“Tomorrow night, but you better show up early
because every newcomer dreaming of stardom wil be
here and ready to go. And the best thing is, the winner
gets to be the opening act for the headliner for the
month until the next open mic night. We open the mic at
ten, but you better get here by eight to sign up. We only
have time for ten acts before the regular house band
starts. I hope to see you tomorrow,” Jean added as
someone down the bar caled her name.
“I’l be here,” Bily said as Jean walked away.
“And thanks.”
Jules and Bily sat at the bar enjoying smal talk
for an hour or so, getting to know one another at a
leisurely pace. Jean came and went as business dictated
but always came right back and joined the
conversation. Finaly, after another bartender showed
up to relieve Jean, she landed on the barstool next to
Bily.
“So what’s the hot topic you two seem to be so
involved in?” Jean asked.
“Oh, we were talking about the ranch,” said Bily.
“Jules was teling me you guys live in Lebanon but that
he sometimes stays at the ranch when he needs to pul a
double, or when they’re expecting a foal, things like
that. So how long have you two been married?”
“Forty-nine years now and stil going strong,”
Jules said as he reached behind Bily and gave Jean a
squeeze. “What about you, do you have a girlfriend,
son?”
“Uh, no, sir,” he replied.
Jean chimed in, “I don’t mean to assume anything,
but do you have a boyfriend?”
“Uh, not at the moment, ma’am,” Bily said with a
grin.
Both Jules and Jean smiled, and Bily’s eyes got
as big as quarters, and they al broke into laughter.
When they were finaly able to control themselves, Bily
asked, “So how did you know about me? I mean, I try
not to spit sequins when I talk.”
As they al chuckled again, Jean said, “Our son is
gay, and we’ve been around you sweet boys for over
twenty years now. One’s gaydar becomes pretty
accurate after so many years.”
“I guess it does,” replied Bily. “So, Jules, how
wil the boys back at the ranch react when they find
out?”
“Oh, no need to worry about those lugs, they’re
al harmless. You may take a little ribbing every now
and again, but if you pul your weight they’l respect you
and it won’t matter none. But I would keep my eye on
Buck. As I mentioned, he’s somewhat hotheaded, and
he already has a chip on his shoulder since he thinks
you stole his job.”
Bily said, “I can take care of myself, but when
Buck’s around, I’l sleep with one eye open and a
basebal bat under my bed.”
The three of them enjoyed the rest of the evening
and around midnight began to say their goodbyes. Jules
asked Bily if he wouldn’t mind taking the pickup back
to the ranch and checking on the little fily so he could