Final Encore E-Book

Scotty Cade

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 314

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Sequel to Before the Final Encore When hunky aspiring country singer Billy Eagan heads to Nashville in search of his big break, a relationship and love are the furthest things from his mind. Taking a foreman's job at the Lazy H ranch and not knowing how he will be accepted, Billy decides to fly under the radar and stay as closeted as he can without denying who he really is. It's immediately confirmed that he made the right decision when he discovers homophobia is still alive and well in Tennessee. Then Billy gets his break and meets gorgeous record label executive Ian Dillon. Their worlds collide both professionally and personally, and Billy falls hard. But Ian is still haunted by the mysterious betrayal of his one and only lover, and knowing Billy possesses the power to emotionally destroy him, Ian decides to cut his losses and simply walk away. Determined not to give up on the man he loves, Billy secretly starts to unravel the past and quickly finds that it's not what it appears. Can Billy rescue Ian's heart, or will bigotry and hatred win over love?

Leseprobe

By SCOTTY CADE

Acting Out

Before the Final Encore • Final Encore

The Mystery of Ruby Lode

The Royal Street Heist

Sunrise Over Savannah • Chasing the Horizon

An Unconventional Courtship • An Unconventional Union

LOVESERIES

Wings of Love

Bounty of Love

Treasure of Love

With Z.B. Marshall:Foundation of Love

Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Final Encore

© 2015 Scotty Cade.

Cover Art

© 2015 Reese Dante.

http://www.reesedante.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-63476-117-8

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-118-5

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014922790

Second Edition March 2015

First Edition published by Dreamspinner Press, November 2010.

Printed in the United States of America

This paper meets the requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

To Kell, my partner and best friend of eighteen years, who suffered through many long days and nights alone in front of the television while I wrote this book. Thank you, thank you. Your continuing love, support, and encouragement make me who I am today. I love you.

To my best girlfriend, Mary (Peg) Plumstead, who grew to love these characters as much as I did, and who always encouraged and challenged me to go well beyond my capabilities. Your natural instinct and ability to look beyond what you were reading, along with your incredible creative skills, saved me too many times to count. You’re the best.

And finally, last but certainly not least, to my friend and editor Andi Byassee. Trust me when I tell you, you’re a godsend! You take all my misspelled words, bad punctuation, and run-on sentences and turn them into stories. You work your magic and voilà. A novel! Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Chapter One

Billy Eagan left New Orleans for Nashville with a few thousand dollars in his pocket—and a dream.

Born and raised in the Big Easy, Billy was the first in his family to leave the city, and his loved ones, behind. New Orleans is a town rich in history and tradition; she forces you to love her, and most never leave her embrace, but Billy had bigger-than-average dreams, and he wasn’t about to stay put and live the simple life, no matter how much he loved his family and his home.

His middle-class upbringing had taught him his strong work ethic, but his parents had taught him to dream, dream big, and never give up on those dreams.

On the morning he left, his entire family was there to send him off. He started his truck and rolled down the window for a final good-bye. His mother kissed him, and his father shook his hand and said, “I’m proud of you, son. You’re leaving everything you know behind and making a new life for yourself, and that takes real guts.”

As he pulled out of the driveway, Billy thought back to the many things he’d done over the years to make his father say those words. How strange that leaving his family behind to pursue his aspirations would be the thing that made his father the most proud.

He left with a sense of comfort and pride that warmed him to his core.

Billy had to concentrate on his driving while he navigated through the city, but once he reached the interstate, he relaxed into the journey. He turned on the radio, and the first thing he heard was Percy Sledge singing “When a Man Loves a Woman.” And didn’t that bring back memories?

His mamma was the one who taught him to love music. She had a beautiful voice, and he always felt a little sad thinking how she might have had a singing career if she hadn’t stayed at home to raise Billy and his sisters.

Before school put an end to his days at home with his mother, he used to “help” her with the housework. Vacuuming was his favorite. He remembered riding on the canister of the Hoover singing along with his mamma to the very song playing on the radio now.

And here he was, on his way to Nashville, Tennessee, to take a shot at stardom. Did he have what it took? He figured he’d find out soon enough.

Billy’s drive from New Orleans to Nashville was long and mostly uneventful. The uninterrupted hours on the highway were marked with country radio stations fading in and out. It tickled his fancy to think of them as stepping-stones to his future.

By the time he reached the outskirts of the city, Billy was tired. The malls, business parks, and factories he passed looked much like they did anywhere. Then, suddenly, the highway took a jog and a little rise, and there it was. Nashville. Music City. The heart of the country-music industry, Music Row, was not visible from this distance, of course, but Billy recognized the famous “Batman building,” the AT&T building that dominated the city skyline. His heart gave a little lurch.

This is for real. I’m really here. Look out, Nashville, here I come.

Billy’s first order of business was finding a place to stay, temporarily at least. He’d saved up a little money—not a lot, but enough to keep him fed and sheltered for a while. Hopefully, he’d find a job quickly and maybe rent a room or a cheap apartment somewhere. Meanwhile, a motel seemed like the best option, and he found a Motel 6 just off the interstate and only ten minutes or so from downtown. The price was right and the room was cheap, if nothing special. If the sheets were a little coarse, he was too tired to notice.

The next morning he made his way to the Cracker Barrel next to the motel for breakfast, and while he was there, he studied the want ads in the Nashville Tennessean and circled a few likely prospects. Luckily, Billy had some marketable skills. He’d done some construction work in NOLA and had been manager of the lumber section of a big building supply store. But what he had loved the most—other than singing, of course—was the time he’d spent with his dad raising quarter horses. He shared his dad’s passion for the loveable beasts, and they’d had some good times together riding and caring for the animals. Still, Billy didn’t think it very likely he’d find a job demanding that sort of experience. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. When he got back to his room, he started making calls.

That day set his routine for his first week in Nashville. Meals at Cracker Barrel, studying want ads, calling prospective employers. He allowed himself a little time each day to drive downtown and get to know his way around the city, especially that magical area around 16th and 17th Avenues South known as Music Row. When the inevitable homesickness set in during those first lonely days, the siren call of Music Row helped him keep his spirits up and cling to his determination. He missed his family terribly, but he never once thought about turning around. He was going to give this new journey everything he had.

Near the end of that first week, he got a call from an ad he’d answered. It turned out his experience with horses might be what would get him a job after all. The position was for a foreman at a large horse farm that boarded horses as well as specializing in guided rides for tourists—the Lazy H Ranch in Mount Juliet, Tennessee, just outside of Nashville. After a brief conversation, he agreed to meet the owner at ten o’clock the next morning. It wasn’t singing, but he felt lucky to have the opportunity, and it would pay the bills until—until, he told himself, not when—he found something in the music business.

Chapter Two

Billy turned in under the large steel arch with The Lazy H Ranch etched on it and looked down at his watch to confirm the time. Nine forty-five. Right on time.

He cautiously drove down a dust-covered road, with lush pastures on either side. After a half mile or so, the road ended at a farmhouse flanked by two large barns. When he got out of his truck, he was examined, rather than greeted, by a rough and unfriendly looking man. He was short and stocky, his frame overburdened with at least thirty extra pounds. 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 spat into as he studied Billy. Hoping this wasn’t the owner, Billy introduced himself and then sighed with relief when he learned the man was a ranch hand named Buck Stevens.

“You can wait near the east barn,” Buck said, gesturing over his shoulder. “And someone’ll be with you shortly.”

Billy waited around for about forty-five minutes, but no one approached him. He was about to go after Buck to remind him he was still waiting when he saw a tall, 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 William Eagan, by any chance?”

“Yes, sir, but I go by Billy.”

They 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,” Billy replied. “I arrived at nine forty-five, and Buck told me to wait at the east barn and someone would find me. I was just about to go look for 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,” Billy said. “Would you like me to come back?”

Jules shook his head. “No. I’ve got some time. Why don’t you walk with me to the west barn, and we can have a chat along the way.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy said.

On the short walk, Billy filled Jules in on his extensive experience with horses and explained why he was in Nashville. Billy felt certain Jules had heard the same story many times before, but to his credit, he listened intently and even offered a few words of encouragement.

They soon reached the stall housing the expectant mare. She was lying on her side, and Billy observed her tense up every few minutes with contractions. It was apparent to him she still had some time before she’d deliver, but he thought she looked a bit distressed. He decided to hold his tongue until he could get a better gauge on the situation.

Together, they entered the stall and examined the mare closely as Jules continued to tell Billy about the ranch operations and the job he had available. After the examination was complete, Billy was sure something was wrong.

“I’m pretty sure the foal is breached,” Billy said hesitantly.

Jules smiled weakly. “Good call,” he said, pulling off a rubber glove. “I was just about to tell you the same thing.”

Billy spent the next several hours helping Jules try to get the foal positioned properly for a natural birth, and eventually they succeeded. By late afternoon the little filly was born healthier than either expected. With the danger now behind them, Jules and Billy cleaned up and headed back to the tack room to put the supplies away. As they entered the small enclosure, Buck was filling up the feed barrels. He looked up and eyed Billy warily.

“Well, Billy,” Jules said, “I’m pretty impressed with your knowledge and skill. 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 Billy could speak, Buck turned around with a disgruntled look on his face and stormed out of the tack room, brushing Billy’s shoulder roughly in the process.

“Wow,” Billy said. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, don’t pay him any mind,” Jules replied. “He wants the job, but I just don’t think he has the skills to be a foreman. He’s a little hotheaded for my taste.”

Billy sighed. “If I take the job, is he going to be a problem for me?”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll deal with him,” Jules said. “Does this mean I have a new employee?”

Billy held out his hand. “Yes, sir,” he replied, and Jules sealed the deal with a handshake.

“My wife and I own a little club on Broadway,” Jules said on the way back to the farmhouse. “I’m headed there for a couple of beers, then right back here to check on our little one. You want to join me?”

“Sure. Why not?”

When Jules’s truck pulled up to Jean’s Magnolia Saloon, Billy remembered Jules’s words and chuckled to himself. This is no little club. The two men got out and headed inside.

Jules opened the door to the dimly lit lounge, and Billy’s vision took a few seconds to adjust. He glanced around the saloon, which was even larger than it looked from the street, about the size of a small supermarket.

On one side, a large mahogany bar ran the full length of the room. Opposite the bar was a raised stage with a colorful set of drums, an electric keyboard, and various other musical instruments on stands. An expansive oblong dance floor—surrounded by split-rail fencing with openings at each end and dusted with what looked and smelled like fresh sawdust—held place in the center of the room. Overstuffed chairs in numerous groupings, along with high cocktail tables and barstools, provided ample and comfortable seating and finished off the look.

Jules led Billy to the bar and introduced him to a beautiful, well-dressed, gracefully maturing woman behind the counter, pouring beer from a tap. His first thought was that she must be Jules’s wife. And his second thought was that she didn’t look like she belonged behind a bar. She was tall and slender, about five foot nine and a hundred and twenty-five pounds, give or take. She had dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, and appeared to be the epitome of joy, strength, and sincerity. Her smile was beaming.

Billy had heard the term “ageless” before but had never really understood it. It had nothing to do with how young a person looked, although this woman looked quite youthful. It was really about natural style and confidence.

“Hey, hon,” Jules said. “This is Billy Eagan. He just joined the Lazy H as our new foreman, but he really wants to be a country singer.” He winked. “Billy, this is my wife, Jean.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. James,” Billy said removing his hat and offering his hand.

“Nice to meet you too, Billy,” she replied as they shook hands. “Welcome to my saloon, and please call me Jean. You any good, by the way?”

Billy chose his words carefully, not wanting to sound conceited. “Well, ma’am—” He hesitated. “—I’ve been told I am by more than just my family and friends, and I sure hope no one’s been pulling my leg.”

“Have you been performing for a long time?” Jean asked.

“Since I was a thirteen, ma’am,” Billy replied. “I started out in my school’s musical theater group, and I’ve been singing ever since.”

Jean looked surprised. “Musical theater, huh?” she asked with an intrigued tone in her voice. “How did you end up in country music?”

“In my senior year of high school I taught myself to play guitar and discovered country music. I fell instantly in love with it, formed a band, and it all took off from there.”

“I see,” Jean said through a warm smile. “Well, Monday nights once a month we have an open mic competition, and you’re surely welcome to join us. Many celebrities got their start here. We have a crowd of talent scouts that hang around on a regular basis to see if they might just catch the next big thing.”

“When’s the next one?” Billy asked.

“Monday night,” Jean said.

“Day after tomorrow?” Billy asked.

Jean nodded. “But you better show up early because every newcomer dreaming of stardom will be here and itching for a spot on that stage, and we only have time for ten acts before the headliner starts.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Billy said, nodding his head.

“And the best thing is,” she added, “if you win, you get to be the opening act for the entire month until the next open mic night.”

“Seriously?” Billy asked.

Jean nodded. “We open the mic at ten, but you should plan to get here by eight to sign up.”

Jean turned when someone down the bar called her name. “I hope to see you Monday night,” she added before she headed down the bar.

“I’ll be here,” Billy assured her as she walked away. “And thanks.”

Jules and Billy sat at the bar enjoying small talk for an hour or so, getting to know one another at a leisurely pace. Jean came and went as business dictated but always joined the conversation when she could. Finally, after the relief bartender showed up, she landed on the barstool next to Billy. “So what’s the hot topic you two seem to be so involved in?” she asked.

“Oh, we were talking about the ranch,” Billy said, turning slightly in her direction but not excluding Jules. “Your husband was telling me you guys live in Lebanon, but that he sometimes stays at the ranch when he needs to pull a double, or when they’re expecting a foal—things like that.”

“That’s my Jules all right,” Jean said, leaning around Billy to Jules, offering him a warm smile.

They seem so in sync, Billy thought.

“So how long have you two been married?” he asked curiously.

“Forty-nine years now and still going strong,” Jules said as he reached behind Billy 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,” Billy said, unable to hide his surprise.

Both Jules and Jean smiled, and Billy’s cheeks warmed. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Billy inquired, “how did you know about me? I mean, I try not to spit sequins when I talk.”

Jules and Jean chuckled. “Relax,” 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 would,” Billy agreed. “So, Jules? How will the boys back at the ranch react when they find out?”

“Oh hell,” Jules said. “No need to worry about those lugs. They’re all harmless. You may take a little ribbing every now and again, but if you pull your weight they’ll respect you and it won’t matter none. But…,” he added, “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.”

Billy nodded. “I can take care of myself in that department. But just for safety’s sake, when Buck’s around I’ll sleep with one eye open and a baseball bat under my bed.”

“I don’t think it will come to that,” Jules said. “But I think it’s a good idea just the same.”

A couple of hours later, Jules stood and looked at Jean. “I don’t know about you, honey, but I’m beat.”

“So am I,” she agreed. “Too bad you have to go all the way back to the ranch.”

Billy stood. “I can drive your truck back to the ranch and check on the little filly,” he offered. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Jules looked at Jean, and they both nodded. “That would be very much appreciated. Just call me if anything looks or feels out of place as far as the filly’s concerned. You have my number.”

“Do you need me to pick you up in the morning?” Billy asked.

“Nope,” Jean said. “I have an early appointment, so I’ll drop him off on my way into town.”

Billy drove back at a leisurely pace, enjoying a mental recap of all that had happened to him since he’d left New Orleans. He eventually made it back to the ranch and, after checking on the mare and filly, hopped into his truck and headed back to his motel room for the last time. His new job came with lodgings at the ranch, which would really help with expenses. When he finally arrived, he stripped down to his shorts, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed. For a long while, he lay there and anticipated the next day—and Monday night.

Just after sunrise the next morning, Billy drove out to the ranch. It was Sunday, so things were a little quieter than they would be normally, but when there are animals to care for, every day is a workday. He completed the necessary paperwork for new employees and was given a slip of paper that assigned him to the Palomino bunkhouse, with a highlighted map directing him to his new home. He followed the directions to a large, rustic log cabin. He pushed the screen door open and entered hesitantly.

The main room contained six bunk beds on each side, the bunks numbered one through twelve. Between each bed were double locker-like closets and two small footlockers, all with corresponding numbers. A small kitchen area and a set of doors he assumed were the entrances to the bathrooms and showers took up the back of the room.

Several men Billy figured were other ranch hands sat at a small table in the kitchen, along with Buck Stevens. Billy introduced himself and nodded in Buck’s direction. After chatting with the men, he found out that many of them were also looking for their chance at success. Some of these guys had been trying to break into the business for many years, and some, like him, had just started their journey. Buck said he wasn’t a singer but claimed his girlfriend was a major up-and-coming star. Most of the guys rolled their eyes and smirked.

The older, more experienced guys seemed worn-down and weary, while the newcomers had a gleam in their eyes he’d bet was in his as well. He couldn’t decide whether he was encouraged or disheartened by his fellow dreamers. Nashville was full of talented, aspiring entertainers and only the best of the best would make it.

Will I be one of the best? Billy mused as he found his bunk and unpacked what little he had brought with him.

One of the hands told Billy he should report to Jules at the west barn. When he arrived there, he found Jules on his knees, visiting with the newest addition to the ranch.

“Morning,” he said. “How’s our little girl doing?”

“Just fine,” Jules said looking up at him. “Partly thanks to you.”

“Doing my job is all,” Billy said.

“You weren’t hired yet then, son,” Jules teased.

Billy smiled. “I guess you got me there.”

Jules got to his feet, patted the filly gently, and reassured the mare with a generous head rub before he left the stall.

“So,” Jules started, “as I mentioned yesterday, you’ll be the foreman in charge of the ranch hands who care for the boarded horses and host the trail rides for the tourists.”

Billy nodded, recalling what Jules had explained to him the day before. Each day ranch hands acting as tour guides lead groups of riders on a breathtaking five-hour tour of Mount Juliet, known as the city between the lakes. Midway through the ride, each guide would set up a picnic lunch and then return with his group by three in the afternoon.

“I’ll probably lead a tour tomorrow to demonstrate how I want them to go and how and where I like the lunch presented, but because you’ll have six groups to supervise each day, I think it would be wise for you to get to know the guides by accompanying each of them as well. Both to familiarize yourself with the terrain and with the guides and their capabilities.”

“Agreed,” Billy said.

“Now, each morning there are up to thirty-six horses to saddle and prepare. You and your staff arrive sharply at seven o’clock, and your day will be done no later than five thirty.”

“That’s great,” Billy said. “This schedule will give me plenty of time for a quick nap, a shower, and some dinner before I hit the town in search of a gig.”

“Figured as much,” Jules said. “So there you have it, son. Take your first day as it comes, hanging around the barn and observing, and tomorrow you can start joining the guides.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy said. “And thanks again for the opportunity.”

“My pleasure, son. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Yes, sir.”

As instructed, Billy stayed around the barn and helped the guides saddle their horses to get familiar with the tack, the horses, and their personalities. When the day was done, he remained behind to make sure the tack room was set up to his liking. He wanted to see how much pride and care the guides took in their work. When he finally retired, it was nine o’clock, and he was exhausted. He grabbed a quick sandwich from the mess hall and made his way back to his bunkhouse, showered, and went straight to bed.

Before the first rays of sunshine peeked through the window shades, and before any of the other hands were even stirring, Billy was up and ready to go. He found his way around the small kitchen and made the first pot of coffee. When the pot finished brewing, he poured himself a cup and headed to the west barn.

Once again Jules had beaten him to the punch.

Gonna have to get up a lot earlier if I’m ever going to beat him in, Billy thought.

“Morning, son,” Jules said. “Sleep okay?”

Billy smiled broadly. “Hardly slept at all. Guess I’m just too excited about today and… tonight. I’ll be just fine, though. Where do you want me to start?”

“Well, I was gonna have you start in the tack room, but it appears you already tackled that area,” Jules said humorously.

Billy laughed at the play on words. “Yes, sir. Last night.”

After observing his first day, Billy knew that every bridle, saddle, and blanket was personalized with the horse’s name on it, so he wanted it all sorted as such. He had spent a couple of hours organizing everything the way he expected it to be and would show each hand the next morning how he wanted to find the room at the end of each day.

“Nice job with that, Billy,” Jules said. “Since the other hands won’t get here for another hour or so, maybe you can set up each saddling station, just to get used to the process.”

“On it, sir.”

“By the way, we have only eight riders in each group today, so it should be a fairly light day.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Billy, I’m really impressed. If you’re as good onstage as you are here, Jean might just have another star on her hands.”

Billy felt an overwhelming sense of pride. “Thank you, sir. I do my best.”

“And stop calling me sir!”

“Yes, sir—I mean, Jules.”

Jules laughed heartily. “That’s better. Now let’s get a move on. Day’s a-burnin’.”

Billy accompanied Jules, who led one of the tours as planned, and it all went very well. Billy truly enjoyed the countryside, stunning with summit, valley, and lake views. They stopped for lunch at one of the many picnic areas available along the trails, and Billy paid special attention to how Jules wanted everything done.

When the tour was over, Billy helped the guides remove the saddles and blankets, replace the bridles with halters, and take the horses one by one to the automatic walker for a cooldown period. After they were adequately cooled, the ranch hands released them in the pasture to graze until it was time to put them in their stalls, feed them, and secure them for the evening. The day went by very fast and without a hitch. By five o’clock Billy was headed to the bunkhouse to get ready for his big night.

When he arrived some of the other ranch hands, already off duty, were sitting around a large table on the porch, having a beer and waiting for dinner. They kindly invited Billy to join in, and he obliged. The first thing several of them wanted to know was if Billy could cook. One night a week, the mess hall was closed, and the hands shared cooking responsibilities in rotation. They were wondering what kind of grub they could expect when it rolled around to Billy’s turn. Billy assured them he knew his way around a kitchen, and they seemed relieved and pleased.

In the short time he had, Billy felt pretty comfortable around them. Much to his surprise, someone brought up Buck’s name, and they all had a little to say about the guy. The general consensus was that he was not well liked.

Everyone agreed he was very rough around the edges. He pushed his girlfriend too hard and used her as his meal ticket, although they all agreed she wasn’t nearly good enough to make it in the business. After about an hour, Billy excused himself and explained that he was headed to Jean’s for open mic night. They all wished him well and said to give Jean their best. A couple of the guys even said they would be there to lend some support. He thought they were probably more curious than anything else, but he knew a familiar face would make him feel a little more at ease.

Billy showered quickly and dried off. He towel dried his thick black hair and then wrapped the towel around his waist and headed back to his bunk to dress. He put on his best pair of black Wranglers, an emerald green silk shirt, his favorite black boots, and his lucky black belt with a large, oval-shaped silver buckle he’d won at a rodeo back in New Orleans.

When he finished dressing, he reached up to the top of his locker and pulled down a box containing his black Stetson with his favorite onyx and rhinestone hatband. He stuck it on his head, stepped back, and opened the locker door. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thought, This is as good as it’s gonna get.

Chapter Three

After picking up a burger and a Coke at a drive-through and eating it on the way, Billy pulled into the parking lot at Jean’s at exactly seven forty-five. He checked his teeth for burger residue in the rearview mirror, got out of his truck, and nervously started for the entrance.

He was surprised to see the place was already very busy. Scanning the club, he saw Jules sitting at the far end of the bar talking to Jean, and he walked over. “Evening, folks.”

Jules smiled genuinely. “Hey, son.”

“Hey, honey,” Jean said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You ready for tonight?” Jules asked.

“Oh yeah, I’m ready. Chomping at the bit, so to speak.”

Jean handed him a clipboard containing a sign-up sheet and a list of cover songs made popular by other artists.

“You better sign up and pick out your song choices so I can pass them along to the house band. You’ll need to pick two because if you’re chosen by the crowd as one of the top three performers, you’ll do a second song.”

Before he chose his songs, Billy took a quick scan of the bar to see who his audience was. To his surprise he saw Buck Stevens sitting with his arm around a fairly attractive older woman with auburn hair in a really big hairdo. That must be the meal ticket the guys were referring to. But who wears their hair like that anymore?

Turning his attention back to the audience, Billy saw it consisted mostly of women. He thought because of that he should choose an especially tender song to try to establish an immediate connection with the ladies.

He quickly signed his name on the clipboard and reviewed the song list. After much thought, for his first song he chose “Moments” by Emerson Drive and for his second song, if he needed it, he chose “Love Me If You Can” by Toby Keith.

With that done, he decided to have a beer while he waited for the show to start. Just as the bartender brought his drink, Jules came over and sat on the empty barstool next to him.

“Nervous, son?”

“Not a chance, sir. I was born to do this.”

They sat at the bar and talked until the lights dimmed and the house band took the stage promptly at ten o’clock.

Jean walked up onstage and welcomed everyone to the saloon and to open mic night. Shortly after she introduced the first act, Billy started to get butterflies. Not because he didn’t think he was good enough to compete, but because the first performer was having some difficulty keeping up with the band. Eventually the band followed her pace, and things improved. But he hadn’t sung with this band before either, and that could prove to be a challenge.

Billy decided he would stick with the original artist’s version of the song and not do any runs or ad-libbing. He wondered how many of the other performers had already sung with the band at previous open mic nights. That could give them a slight edge. His mind was starting to get the best of him, so he forced himself to calm down and focus on the other performers instead.

Before he knew it, he was next. Jean took the stage again. “Ladies and gentlemen. For the first time at Jean’s, please welcome Mr. Billy Eagan.”

He had time for one last thought. I’m about to take the stage at Jean’s Magnolia Saloon.

Billy walked onto the stage, retrieved a barstool from the back corner, moved it to center stage, took a seat, and adjusted the microphone stand. He nodded to the band as a signal that he was ready. As the band played the intro, he waited, and then he began to sing.

The song was about a down-and-out man attempting suicide by jumping off a bridge and being rescued by a homeless person. He knew the song would touch some hearts. It had great range, a good story, and more importantly, something people could identify with. It wasn’t an upbeat song, but it showed off his vocal range, and besides, all of the performers before him had done songs like Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places” and George Strait’s “They Call Me the Fireman,” as if it were karaoke night at the local bowling alley. This was his chance to stand out. It was a make-it-or-break-it song. As he reached the first chorus, he looked around the room and knew in his heart he had captured everyone’s attention. From that point he no longer second-guessed his song choice; he just sang.

When he finished, the audience jumped to their feet and filled the room with applause. Billy was blown away and didn’t quite know what to do. As he looked over at the bar, he saw Jules and Jean, eyes wide with amazement and clapping like there was no tomorrow.

As Billy exited the stage and made room for the next performer, the crowd yelled for more. Billy flashed his biggest smile, removed his hat, bowed at the waist, and walked offstage. I hope I’ll have another chance to sing for you later.

Billy nervously headed over to join Jules and Jean at the bar. God, I hope they liked me.

When he reached the bar he received a big hug from Jean. “No one was pulling your leg, honey,” she said. “Great job!”

He also got a warm handshake and accolades from Jules, as well as a few people standing at the bar.