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Whiskey River Rockstar (Whiskey River Series Book 3) Page 3


  “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.

  Chapter Four

  Jamie nearly stumbled when he saw her. When True had said they’d be here, he’d assumed he meant Hope would be with him. Not his sister.

  Not Zee.

  Damn, he wasn’t ready for this. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours at a time in the past five days, and he was in no shape to deal with her anger at him. Especially when deep down there was that part of him that resented that she was mad at him. He’d never lied to her, never promised her anything beyond the moment. And yet she acted as if he’d jilted her at the altar, or died on her or something. Died. Damn.

  Sorry, Aunt Millie.

  It was a reflex thought; his beloved aunt never spoke of her ill-fated love that had ended in a battle-torn place overseas. She had never married, but insisted she was happy. Because, she’d said, she’d gotten something wonderful out of life after all.

  Him.

  You wouldn’t think so now, Aunt Millie.

  And now they were both dead. And he was standing here staring at Zee, who had once been the most wonderful thing in his life.

  He recovered and traversed the rest of the steps. True took one look at him and reached out to take the guitar. He thought about resisting, but he trusted the man and he didn’t have the energy or strength anyway. And it took all he had of both to make himself look at Zee.

  She was staring, looking as if she was in shock. He knew he looked like hell, and up until he saw that look in her vivid blue eyes, he hadn’t much cared.

  “Please,”
he said, not even sure what he was pleading for.

  After a moment Zee nodded. As if she’d understood what he hadn’t been able to find words for. But then, she always had been good at that.

  Keely had grabbed his duffel and backpack, all he’d brought beside the guitar, and brought them over. True took the duffel; Zee grabbed the pack before he could reach for it.

  “We’ll look out for him,” True said to the pilot, and he vaguely wondered what Keely had said to them that had brought that on. She reached out and put a hand on his arm. He reflexively looked at her, saw her eyes were full of concern.

  “Take care of yourself,” she said. “Or better yet, let them.”

  She was not usually so demonstrative. Another measure of how bad he must look, he guessed. “Thank you,” he said, at a loss for any other words.

  “Just in case,” she said softly, “it’s been a pleasure.”

  He knew what she meant. That she realized what decision he was on the precipice of. With an effort he put some more words together. “I hope we weren’t too much trouble.”

  She smiled at him. “Believe me, I’ve flown trouble. You guys ain’t it.”

  He managed a fleeting smile back at her. “Thanks for getting the guys…where they wanted to go.”

  She nodded. “This is a good place, Jamie. Let it heal you.”

  He was tapped out and could only nod.

  “If you ever need anything,” True said, and Jamie realized he was talking to Keely.

  “Thank you,” she said with a nod. “I know you mean that. I saw that last time.” She glanced around at the airfield, as if looking beyond it. “This is a good place,” she said again.

  “It is,” Zee said. “We’ll take care of him.”

  Jamie registered that she’d said it without malice, or any of the antagonism he usually got from her. And there was something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in a very long time, something beside the concern she would show any injured creature. Which is what he felt like just now. He managed to get to the car. Barely. Zee’s car? He thought it must be. True drove a work truck.

  He put a hand on the roof of the car—a practical green sedan, nothing flashy except the color, which was a bit brighter than the oak leaves this spring—to steady himself. True popped the trunk and put the bags in. He thought foggily he should tell him not the guitar, but then saw he didn’t have to; True had closed the trunk without putting the case in, knowing somehow he’d want it with him.

  “Are you on something? Using?” He stared at True, blinked rather slowly at the abrupt and unexpected question. “Do we need to get a doctor?”

  Oh. “I…no. Don’t. Not for a long time.”

  “When was the last time you slept?” Zee asked. Slowly he shifted his gaze to her face. Her voice had matched that look in her eyes, and a shiver went through him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the Zee who wasn’t mad at him.

  “Last night,” he got out.

  “For how long?”

  “Couple hours.” She just looked at him. “If you add it up,” he said.

  “A couple of hours in the last week, I’m guessing,” she said briskly. “Get in the back. Lie down.”

  “I—”

  “Just do it, Jamie.”

  His name. She’d said his name. Softly. Without that edge in her voice. He felt like she’d stroked him. He did as she asked. He’d do anything she asked, when she talked to him like that.

  He was asleep before the car started.

  *

  “Where are we taking him?”

  True gave her a sideways look, then glanced at the backseat.

  “He’s out for the count,” she said.

  “And looks like hell.”

  “Yes. He does.”

  “It’s been a rough week for him.”

  “Yes. But…”

  “What?” True asked.

  “It’s more than that. Derek dying, I mean. Not that that’s not bad enough, but…I can see that it’s more than that. I sensed something even when he was here in March, for Hope. Under all the charm, something was wrong.”

  “I’ll never argue with you when it comes to understanding him. You always did.”

  “For all the good it—” She stopped the words. That quiet, almost desperate plea flashed through her mind. And only now did she realize what a reflex being mad at Jamie Templeton had become.

  “You never were one to kick a guy when he’s down.”

  She met her brother’s gaze. “I shouldn’t be kicking him at all. He never promised me anything.”

  “And it’s been seven years.”

  “Yes.”

  “Still raw, though?”

  “Only when I think about it.”

  “I’d say take his stuff out of your song rotation, but I get the feeling it would only remind you why it wasn’t there and you’d be back to square one.”

  Her mouth quirked. “For a guy, you’re pretty smart, bro.”

  “Wow, thanks a lot,” True said, but he was fighting a smile.

  “It’d help if he wasn’t so damned good.”

  “So he deserved that award, huh?”

  Zee flushed despite herself. The day last summer when a big online music site had given Jamie their “The Rocker We’d Most Like to F♥♥♥”—they’d actually used the damned little hearts—award had been a rough one for her. It was the day she’d finally let go of any dream or hope she’d had that he would someday come home. He was well and truly of that world now, with little trace of the boy from Whiskey River left.

  “I meant his music,” she ground out.

  “So did I,” True said blandly. “I meant the Beat Magazine award, of course.”

  “Sure you did.” Sometimes he was such a…a brother.

  It was a rough few minutes of silence, during which she fought off the memories of those sweet nights when anything had seemed possible, even Jamie changing his mind. She should have known, in fact she had known, for even with only the accompaniment of that simple guitar, with the breeze rustling the leaves around the tree house, he had been something very, very special. And she had told him so.

  You can’t have it both ways, girl. You can’t tell him he could go all the way and then try to hold him back.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt,” her brother said.

  “I did it to myself,” she muttered.

  “Then why take it out on him?”

  “Because he wasn’t here.”

  It was a moment before True said, very carefully, “I suppose that makes sense in your mind.”

  “As much as anything does right now.”

  “Zee—”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on him. Like you said, I don’t kick a guy when he’s down. And he is most assuredly that.”

  “Which brings us back to your original question. Where are we taking him? Aunt Millie’s place obviously isn’t habitable.”

  She shrugged. “You and Hope have an empty guest room.”

  “So do you.”

  She went still. “Oh, no, Truett Mahan. Don’t you ask for that. I’ll help look out for him, but I can’t live with him in my house.”

  To his credit, he didn’t push. “If our place is too close, he could probably stay with Kelsey and Deck until he figures out what he wants to do.”

  “But we promised we’d take care of him.”

  They were coming into Whiskey River now, and he slowed. He glanced at her with an odd expression. “Is this how it’s been for you? This constant internal war about him?”

  She let out a long breath. It sounded so…silly when he said it out loud.

  “At first, when you started seeing Nick,” he said, “I thought you might be past it.”

  “So did I.” Nick had been a decent guy, and he’d genuinely cared, but their relationship had had none of the spark she knew she would need to truly put Jamie Templeton behind her.

  “Zee, it’s been—”

  “I know.” She shot him a sideways look.
“Have you forgotten Amanda?”

  Once he would have winced as if she’d struck him. Now, thanks to Hope, he just looked thoughtful. “No. And I never will. But that’s different.”

  “Very. But in a way, the Jamie I knew, my Jamie, might as well have died.”

  “And you blame him for changing?”

  “Not any longer,” she said with determination. “I’m chalking it up to life’s lessons and moving on.”

  She meant it. And when he was lying in her backseat, practically comatose, looking like a shell of himself, it was easy to believe she could do it.

  Chapter Five

  Zee was pondering breakfast when a tap on the inner door made her pull her head out of the fridge and close the door. She hoped it was her brother. But even if it wasn’t, she was going to stay on this even keel. No matter what.

  “Come on in,” she called out, glad she’d gotten dressed after her shower instead of lolling around in her bathrobe.

  The door was pulled open.

  Jamie.

  Barefoot, hair tousled from sleep—True had practically dumped him on the guest bed when they’d gotten here, and from what he’d said this morning he hadn’t stirred once—jaw stubbled, and wearing only jeans and a white T-shirt, she was sure the readers of that damned magazine would faint away at the sight of him. With his hair streaked even blonder from the California sun, the visible strip of taut, flat belly above the low-slung jeans, and those green eyes that looked not quite so bad this morning, it was easy to see why he was the guy who’d won that award.

  Not that she hadn’t already known. Intimately.

  But somehow she took no satisfaction in being the one who’d known exactly how sexy he was first.

  She shook off the images that thought sent through her mind. Schooled her voice to pleasantness.

  “Feeling better?”

  He jammed a hand through his hair, shoving the tangle back off his face. Funny, his hair was actually longer than hers now, the sandy blond strands brushing his collar while her dark wisps bared her neck.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Sleep is a wondrous thing.”

  “I’d almost forgotten.”