I am Not Your Melody: (steamy cowboy romance) (17 page)

“Isn’t this great?” Ginger yelled over the bar, raising her voice to be heard over the people chattering.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Allie said.

Since Ginger’s General Store was the place everyone went to shop other than the big Walmart two towns over, having Ginger tell each and every customer about the renovation and grand opening certainly had to have made a big difference.

“On the house,” Allie said, handing her a cold imported beer, “as a thank you.”

Ginger beamed. “Thanks! So…what have you been doing to Big Bad Bill? He hasn’t been nearly as horrible around town lately.” She paused, sipping the beer. “Come to think of it, just the fact that he’s around town lately at all is out of character for him.”

“Where’s Bill at, anyway?” a guy asked from down the bar.

He was only the twentieth person to ask her that in the past hour that the party had been going strong.

“Bill got caught up,” Allie lied. “But I think he’s coming soon.”

That had been her standard answer. She didn’t have the heart to tell them that Bill didn’t want anything to do with the Uncle Freddy’s Bar anymore. People were having a great time, it seemed, so Allie wasn’t worried that they would get up and leave if they knew Bill wasn’t going to be at the party.

So why was she lying? Was it to save face for herself?

Maybe she was just hoping that by saying it out loud so many times, it would make it true. This bar was Bill’s family business — it just didn’t seem right that he wouldn’t be there. She wanted to show him the large framed piece she’d added on the wall by the booths. He had to show up at some point, right? He had to…

Allie barely had time to think, she was so busy pouring drinks, handling the register, and greeting every single person who welcomed her to town.

“When’s the live music happening?” a woman asked, one arm linked with her husband’s. “We can’t stay too late, but I don’t want to miss that.”

If Allie could just pull a lever and open a trap door so that she could drop out of sight right at that moment, that would be perfect. Unfortunately the renovations hadn’t included that. She should have thought ahead and planned for making a fool of herself.

“Umm…” Allie started, looking at the woman, “Actually, I…I mean they…I couldn’t—”

Zach Walker came up to the bar, put down a ten dollar bill, and interrupted her. “The live music is happenin’ soon, so stick around,” he said.

Allie glared at him, her eyes wide. Now what? She never did find anyone to play live music, and Zach knew that. So far, since it was still early, this couple had been the first who had asked her about it.

“Lookin’ forward to it!” the woman said, and went back to the dance floor with her already-two-drinks-in husband, who probably knew he was going to get lucky tonight.

“What are you doing?” Allie asked Zach.

He grinned, his straight white teeth reflecting the sparkling lights across the long the back wall of the bar. He pushed the ten toward her again, as if to remind her it was there.

“I think I need a shot of whiskey for some liquid courage,” he said. “Please.”

She reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels, keeping her eye on the handsome cowboy in front of her. “You better have a musician in your pocket, or you just got me into trouble.”

Zach exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath.

“I know,” he said. “You don’t have any live music.”

Allie put her hand to her head, feeling the beginning of a stress headache come on. Bill had warned her she’d never find someone to play at the bar. She should have listened.

“I tried,” she said. “I really tried. I thought for sure that
someone
would — Do you think people are going to feel like I’d led them on, just to get them in the door?”

“Not if you let me play my guitar,” Zach said.

He didn’t say it very loudly, so Allie had basically just read his lips. Was this for real? She hadn’t even known that Zach played the guitar. Why hadn’t Bill mentioned it? Maybe it was a brand new thing and no one even knew about it yet.

“Are you…any good?” she asked.

“Well—”

“—nevermind. It doesn’t matter if you’re any good,” Allie interrupted. “I shouldn’t even have asked that. You’re the only one who’s even offered, and I definitely want you to play — if you’re willing.”

Zach smile widened. “Really?” he asked. “I knew you were lookin’ for live music, but I didn’t offer, ‘cause… well, I’ve never played for anyone before, outside of campfire songs, an’ I figured you’d want somebody more…special, for your special openin’.”

“You’re sweet,” Allie said, laughing. “But I don’t know whether to hug you, or kill you. Didn’t you know how crazy I was going?” She poured his shot and set it in front of him. “At this point I’d take somebody who told me they played the triangle.”

Zach’s smile faded. “Yeah, you’re right. I should’ve said somethin’, at least offered. Probably would’ve been better if I played for you so you could see what you’re gettin’ yourself into first.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” she joked. “There’s no time for that now. But everyone loves you here. And if you played around a campfire, well… that’s good enough for me. I think you’ll be great,” she added, to pump him up. In reality, this was kind of a gamble.

On the bright side, no one would boo their own favorite cowboy off the stage, right? Hopefully.

Zach stood and nodded. “I’ll run back to the ranch and grab my guitar. Shoulda brought it — I had a feelin’ I’d need it tonight.”

Allie handed him back his ten dollar bill. “And I’ll have another shot of whiskey ready and waiting for you when you get back.” As Zach turned to leave, Allie called after him “Oh hey — what type of music do you play?”

“Country songs,” he said, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world. “What else?”

Zach Walker was a good man. He’d make some lucky woman a very happy wife… if he ever found that lucky woman.

Allie spent the next half-hour making drinks, (though with much less finesse than if she hadn’t broken her thumb).

“Whaddja do to yourself, there?” a young man in a beat-up baseball hat asked, nodding toward her casted hand.

“The car airbag broke it,” she said, for the millionth time to the millionth person (okay, not literally, but it felt like it).

Still, she answered him brightly. It was nice that folks around here even cared about what happened to a woman they’d just met. “I’m from Miami, so I still need to learn how to drive in snow!”

“Wow, that’s somethin’,” he said with a low whistle. He paused. “Bet you gave Big Bad Bill a heart attack.”

Yes. Yes, she pretty much had. But the party was spinning around her, and there was no time to stop and think about everything that had happened, everything that had led to not having her partner by her side.

Bill, please please come
.

An older gentleman came up to the bar. “I’d like a gin and tonic with lime,” the man said jovially, “but hold the gin.”

Allie raised her eyebrows. “So tonic water and lime? On ice?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled, and pointed to a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman, chatting exuberantly at a booth with her friends. “My wife is especially excited you’re doing bingo nights. We haven’t had bingo since the church stopped doing it.”

He tried to hand her cash, but Allie just gave him the drink without accepting payment, waving him off.

“No need, it’s just tonic water.”

“‘Round here, you should stock up on more no-alcohol beverages — soda, juice, coffee and all, and get used to charging for them.” He leaned in so she could hear him better, or maybe because he didn’t want others to hear. “You’ll get more of the teetotalers in — and there’s a lot of them.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “You still don’t have to pay for your tonic and lime, at least not tonight. But that’s a good tip. I’ll talk to Bill about it.”

And she would. Who better to tell her what the town wanted, than people from the town?

“Where
is
Bill anyway?” he asked the guy next to him.

Please, Bill, where are you? Don’t miss this
.

Allie felt her eyes tear up, but she shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was only getting emotional because of all the excitement of the evening. She was doing fine without Bill — the grand opening was definitely a success. People were even using the dance floor, especially every time she put on a slower song, giving the couples who didn’t usually have a chance to go out dancing in the mountains a chance to have some fun.

The front door burst open, letting another blast of frigid air into the warm bar. Zach Walker held up his guitar case and gave Allie a thumbs up.

She came out from behind the bar to greet him with the promised extra shot of whiskey. “You are a lifesaver.”

“Let’s do this now,” Zach said, and downed his drink, handing her the shot glass. “‘fore I lose my nerve.”

“You got it.”

Allie made her way across the dance floor, saying hi to people as she went. It took her about five times longer to cross the room than it would have if it had been empty, but, hey, that’s what a party was all about.

She stepped up onto this the wooden platform stage, and flipped the switch on the microphone stand she had purchased on eBay just for this purpose. Yup, that was how sure she had been that she would find live music.

And look at this… it had worked out after all. If only things with Bill would work out, too.

But some things were too big, too unrealistic, to hope for.

Stop it
. There was no point in thinking about that. She already
did
know how things would turn out — it was her own stupid fault for falling in love with someone who couldn’t fall in love back.

Allie spoke into the mic. “Let’s see if this thing is working!”

She put extra cheer into her voice to cover for her previous thoughts. The mic worked as well as it had when she had first tested it a few days ago, and Allie looked over at the Eric, Chris, and Jay, who gave her a thumbs up.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight to the grand opening of Uncle Freddy’s Bar, named after, of course, our predecessor Fred Edwards.”

They clapped, respect for their old friend.

“I’m so grateful that you all came, and for the kindness you’ve shown me as a new person in town,” Allie continued.

Everyone was listening to her. Her mouth went dry, her throat suddenly parched. Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach as she took in the crowd.

Her gaze lifted to behind the bar, but Bill wasn’t there, of course.

I can do this on my own
.

“Keep an eye out for flyers,” she said, “we’re gonna have dancing, and a whole lot of fun … girls’ night, bingo nights, some senior afternoon coffee days — and of course on the weekends, the big game will be on our screens. And half-price pitchers.”

Everyone clapped at this, and Allie beamed at them, her stage fright diminishing as quickly as it had come on. This was exactly what she had pictured, in all of her best fantasies of how this would go, having a bar in the small town. A group of loyal customers who were genuinely excited to have her as part of the community.

“Let the boy play!” Ginger heckled with a laugh.

Allie hoped her face wasn’t pink. “Yes! You all know Zach Walker, born and raised here in Bear Creek Saddle, and a real hard worker over at Melody Ranch.” Allie paused.

It was almost like she was picking up on a bit of their accent, though she wasn’t trying to. “He’s got a little surprise for all of us… Turns out this handsome cowboy can also play guitar and sing!”

She waved Zach up to the stage. He was beet red, and smiling in an adorable, bashful way that was completely incongruous with his six foot plus, masculine build.

He wouldn’t offer to play if he was going to embarrass himself, right? Maybe. Zach Walker was the kind of guy who might, just so she’d be able to keep her word to the people in town about the live music.

She handed Zach the mic and stepped down.
Fingers crossed
.

“Well,” he said in his deep baritone. “Miss Allie says I can sing an’ play guitar, but she’s just goin’ on faith.”

Everyone laughed, and Allie could see both the people in the crowd and Zach loosening up noticeably before her very eyes.

“Let’s start with some old favorites,” Zach said, and he went right into a Johnny Cash song.

Whoa
.

His voice wasn’t just good — it was great. This guy, with his movie-star good looks and incredible talent — he should be a country music star in his own right. What was he doing throwing hay on a ranch in the mountains of Idaho?

A low voice spoke in her ear, and Allie jumped.

She whirled around. “Bill!”

Relief flooded through her, relief mixed with joy all at once. He came. Bill was here for her.

She wanted to hug him, but she didn’t dare. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“I’m glad I made it too,” he said, and she followed him to behind the bar, where they could talk without interrupting the music. “It was kinda hard for me to come tonight.”

He looked from the stage to Allie in surprise, as if just noticing that his ranchhand was rocking the house.

“How on earth did you get Zach to sing in public?” he asked.

Allie shrugged her shoulders. “I think he took pity on me, because he actually offered himself.”

“He’s not into attention,” Bill murmured. “I’m impressed he’s up there at all.”

“Why do you suppose he’s still living here, instead of going off to Nashville or something?” Allie asked. “No offense to you and the ranch, of course.”

“Nah,” Bill said, giving her a look as if he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to go to a city and be famous. “Some folks like the simple life. Zach’s one of ‘em. Me too.”

“Me too,” she added.

“No need to share yourself with the whole world,” he said, nodding.

This was the longest conversation they’d had without one of them getting upset in…a while.

“Yeah,” Allie said. “Sometimes, I guess a place like Bear Creek Saddle could become your whole world. I love it here. I wouldn’t want to leave either.” She looked up into Bill’s eyes. “I don’t ever want to leave.”