Chapter 24

24

T ucker followed Dax down the stairs, his pulse jumping a bit. Nerves were medium. Confidence level high.

He knew he was going to be fine.

Dax stopped. “Wait here. I want to give you a little introduction. I’ll leave the mic in standing position. You can adjust how you see fit.”

“I’ll leave it up for the first number. It’s a lively one,” he shared. “Then I’m going to go softer. Much softer. That’s better suited for sitting.”

“You know best. I tend to favor sitting when the song is more intimate myself.” Dax gave him a thumbs up. “Be right back.”

Tucker watched Dax move to the front of a makeshift stage and saw the two stools and microphone stand waiting for him. He glanced out at the crowd, which appeared blurry, until Reagan came into to focus. She blew him a kiss, and he pretended to catch it, delighting her. Miss Jean and Ivy sat at her table. To their right, were Ry, Emerson, Ana, and Wolf. He nodded to his friends and swung his attention back to Dax, who’d begun his introduction.

“Tucker Young is a new friend to me but an old friend to some of you. He spent summers here with his uncle Shy and aunt Shelly, who are seated right over there.”

That surprised Tucker, and his eyes went to their table. Aunt Shelly waved enthusiastically at him. He grinned at her, waving back. As for Uncle Shy, he gave his nephew a brusque nod.

“Tucker’s planning to stay in Lost Creek and make it his permanent home. He’s a songwriter, and he’s written a few new ones he wants to try out on you. So, let’s give it up and show Tucker Young some Lost Creek love.”

As Dax headed toward him, Tucker heard the room fill with applause.

Dax passed him, patting him on the back. “You’ve got this.”

He went to the mic and kept his eyes on Reagan, saying, “I don’t know if I deserve such an enthusiastic introduction, much less all that applause you’ve already given me. Yes, I’m Tucker Young, and I’m happy to be back in Lost Creek. Serving up barbeque with my cousin Ry at Smokin’ Sweethearts. And writing some songs. I’ll start with an oldie but goodie. One I think you’ll know. I wrote it— but Matt Hardy made it famous. It’s called Another Beer, Dear .”

As he strummed his guitar and burst into the song, all he saw was love shining in Reagan’s eyes. Love for him. That freed him, and Tucker sang the fast-paced song with gusto.

When he finished playing, the crowd erupted in cheers, bolstering his spirits.

“Now, I know Matt made that famous, and I’m hoping he might be willing to buy a couple of these songs I sing for you tonight. Just remember, folks. You heard ’em hear first. From me. This one’s called Drawn to Your Light .”

Tucker launched into the country ballad, singing part of it with his eyes closed, while the rest of the time with eyes on Reagan. She gave him strength. Hope. Joy. A man couldn’t ask for much else in life.

He ended the song, surprised that the crowd’s response was more enthusiastic to it than the better-known song he’d opened with.

“Well, I’m glad you liked that one. I call this one This Ain’t Just a Friendship .”

He sang his second new song, knowing it was about Reagan. He was secure in his love for her and hers for him. They had traveled through separate storms, but fate had brought them together. As he sang this love song to her, Tucker felt in his bones it was as good as anything he’d previously written. Good enough for Matt to buy and sing. Good enough to become a hit.

More applause greeted him as the last note sounded, and Tucker felt pleased. Instead of launching into another hit of Matt’s as he’d planned, he told those present, “I’ve got another one for you now. Let’s Write Our Own Love Song . I think some of you know I’m seeing Reagan Bradley. She’s right over there.”

He pointed her out. “I think it’s pretty darn obvious all these songs are about her.”

Reagan blushed as all eyes in the coffeehouse turned to her. Still, she beamed at him, blowing him a second kiss as everyone cheered.

Tucker began the next number, not bothering to share its name until he finished playing. After that, he did play a second song he’d written for Matt, one which had cracked the Top Ten and was a personal favorite of his. It had also been one Josie adored. It was important to him to keep a little of Josie in mind with him tonight, knowing that she had supported his songwriting and he wouldn’t be here tonight if she hadn’t pushed him.

He got a decent response for it, not as good as for the newer songs, making his confidence soar even higher, and he switched to another of those.

“I’m going to sing Love Shines Bright for you now,” he told the crowd.

He played it and another song back-to-back, feeling brave enough now for his gaze to slowly roam Java Junction. He saw men wrap an arm around their sweetheart or take their hands. One couple in the corner cuddled and kissed as he played. Tucker didn’t mind that in the least. He hoped these songs would be well received. That Matt would buy more than a couple. Whatever Matt wasn’t interested in, Tucker decided he would approach a few other country artists and see if they might be willing to buy the rights instead.

He finally opened one of the water bottles Dax had left for him, guzzling down the entire contents, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“I was having so much fun up here, I forgot to drink as I went,” he told the crowd, causing scattered chuckles. “I only have one more song to play for you this evening, and then I’ll let you get back to your coffee or tea or spiced cider. Whatever you enjoy drinking here at Java Junction.”

He strummed the guitar a few times, once again making a slight adjustment. Then Tucker’s gaze caught Reagan’s, and he spoke straight to her.

“You haven’t heard this one yet, babe, but your fingerprints are all over it. Here’s Give Love Another Dance .”

As Tucker sang, he saw how the lyrics affected Reagan. He put his heart and soul into the song, breathing new life into it as he poured out his feelings to the woman who had captured his heart and helped him to heal.

I've been cautious and guarded, keeping my heart under lock and key,

But your love has shown me a different reality,

You’ve wiped away my tears, healed every old scar,

Now I believe in love again, no matter how far.

I know it’s hard to trust, after being hurt so bad,

But when I hear your voice, I’m no longer sad,

’Cause I’m falling in love, trusting once more,

You’ve proven yourself worthy, I’m opening my door,

I’m taking a leap, hoping it’s worth the chance,

Falling in love with you, giving love another dance.

He finished, and a hush fell over the coffeehouse. His gaze never wavered from Reagan’s, and he saw her mouth, “I love you.” He mouthed it back to her.

Then Java Junction’s patrons jumped to their feet, the applause deafening. Tucker stood there, grinning like a fool, as Reagan rushed to him. She threw her arms around him. He gave her a long kiss and heard the laughter surrounding them.

Breaking the kiss, he threw an arm around her waist and drew her close.

“I hope you enjoyed the songs I played and sang for you tonight. Fingers crossed, you’ll hear some of them on the radio.”

“Bet you pick up a CMA for Song of the Year award, Tucker,” shouted a man from the crowd, and several people nodded, applauding the remark.

“Thanks again to Dax Tennyson for allowing me to play tonight. You’ve been a great audience. See you soon at the Smokin’ Sweethearts food truck.”

Everyone laughed good-naturedly, and Tucker took the opportunity to kiss Reagan again while they did.

“You were magnificent,” she said, her eyes misting with tears. “And that last song. The newest one. When did you write it?”

“Oh, the melody whispered in my ear a while ago, but the words just came to me this week. I paired the two together, and that’s what I came up with.”

“It was the best one of the night, Tucker. And it was for me ,” she said in wonder.

“They’re all for you now, Reagan. Everything I say. Everything I do. Everything I sing. Everything I am. It’s all because of you.”

He kissed her again, eager to get her home and in bed. Sliding his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Want to go home and make some more music in bed?”

“You need to talk to someone before we leave,” she told him. “He’s a real fan of yours and wants to say hello.”

Tucker gazed about the room and then saw exactly who Regan referred to.

“Matt,” he said as his brother-in-law reached him.

“Tuck!” the country star called, throwing his arms around Tucker. “You blew me away tonight, man. Each song. They just got better and better.”

Puzzled, he asked, “How are you even here, Matt?”

Matt motioned to Reagan. “You can thank your better half here. Reagan contacted me and told me you’d be playing Java Junction tonight.”

“I hope you’re not mad,” she said, her voice small. “I was afraid you might be upset. That’s why I didn’t tell you Matt would be here.”

“How can I be mad at the woman I love?” he asked, giving her a hard, swift thank you kiss.

“I liked them all, Tuck,” Matt said. “Every damn one. I’m known for more upbeat songs, with a few ballads thrown in, but maybe the next album I cut might be nothing but ballads.”

“You aren’t upset, Matt?”

His brother-in-law looked at him quizzically. “Well, I’ve been mad as hell that you ignored every text and phone call from me the last couple of years, but I’m over it now. We’re back in touch. That won’t change.”

“I thought… I thought you’d be upset. Because I’ve found someone new.”

Matt shook his head. “Get that crazy idea out of your head, Tucker Young. You know how Josie was full of life. Laughter. Love. She’d be the last person on the planet to want you to mope around and be miserable. From what Reagan and I talked about, you did that for a couple of years. Well, the time of mourning is over. The Bible says there’s a time to mourn, and a time to dance. And brother, I’m ready to make some music with you again.”

Matt pulled Reagan into his arms, giving her a warm hug. “Thank you for reaching out to me, Reagan. For putting me back in touch with this guy. I’ve missed him, and I can’t wait to get to know you.”

“I know you’re not touring now. That you live down the road in Bandera. Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” she asked.

“It’s just going to be the four of us this year,” Matt said. “Sophie, me, and the kids. Why? Would you like to come to the ranch?”

“Actually, my aunt Jean and I will be cooking for a whole group of our friends. We’d be thrilled if you and Sophie could join us. The kids, too.”

“Let me run it by the wife and see what she thinks, but Sophie’s not much of a cook. I think she’d be happy to come and see Tuck again and meet you.”

“I’ll text you the address. We’re going to eat at two Thanksgiving afternoon. It’s at our friends’ house, Braden and Harper Clark. She just had a baby a few days ago, which is why Aunt Jean and I are helping out.”

Matt grinned. “Oh, Sophie will be all over that baby. My woman is baby mad. We’ve got two, and we have no plans of stopping anytime soon.” He offered Tucker his hand. “Promise me we’re going to stay in touch. You’ll always be my brother-in-law. We’ll always have that bond of Josie between us.”

“I’m sorry I dropped off the face of the earth, Matt. I needed time to lick my wounds. Time to reconcile what had happened. Josie’s death was the death of a lot of my dreams.”

He glanced to Reagan, slipping his arm about her. “But this little lady has shown me the way. A new way. She also lost someone she loved. We’ve agreed we could still love our previous partners and still make room in our hearts for each other.”

”You’re a wise woman, Regan Bradley,” Matt complimented. “I’ll text you no later than tomorrow morning about Thanksgiving, but I think you can count us in.” He grinned. “I also appreciate the fact we’re eating at two.”

“Because the Cowboys are playing around three-thirty?” Reagan asked, her eyes sparkling. “Yes, Aunt Jean insisted on the time. She’s a huge Dallas Cowboys fan. She said she’d cook. She would eat. Then others will have to clean up because she wants a prime spot in front of the TV.”

Matt died laughing. “I think I’m going to like your aunt, Jean, a lot. I’ll say my goodnights, and I’ll see you both soon.”

As Matt Hardy left Java Junction, the sea of people parted. No one stopped him for selfies or autographs, respecting his space, and he exited the coffeehouse.

Tucker turned from watching Matt to find all of his friends in front of him. They fist bumped. Hugged. Laughed. All of them praised the new songs he had written.

Ivy said, “I hope you don’t mind, Tucker, but I used my cell to record every song tonight. I sent the recording to Braden and Harper so they could feel as if they had been here with you.”

“Not a problem, Ivy. In fact, send it to me, too. Reagan and I can watch it, and I’ll critique my own performance.”

“You really moved me,” Ana said. She glanced to her husband, and Wolf nodded. “We want to meet with you, Tucker.”

“Meet with me ?” he asked. “What for?”

“We’re shooting a movie now, and I think it needs a theme song. I’m thinking you might be the man to write it for us.”

He was blown away by the producer’s request. “Ana, I’d be honored, but I’d have to know a little more about the project before committing.”

She handed him a card as Wolf said, “Let’s see if we can get together after Thanksgiving. Ana and I can fill you in on the storyline. Let you look at some of the footage already in the can. See if it’s a project you might be interested in partnering with us.”

Ana’s eyes gleamed at him as she asked, “Have you ever writing strictly instrumental music?”

“No. Never gave that a thought.”

“Holden had never written a script until we asked him to write the screenplay for Hill Country Homicide . Maybe it’s time you thought about scoring a movie,” she said. “Or at least contributing a theme song.”

He knew absolutely nothing about scoring a movie.

But the idea intrigued him.

“I’ll give you a call,” he said. “We can meet and talk about the single song.” He grinned. “And the score.”

“Yes!” Ana exclaimed.

Wolf said, “We better get home to the kids. It was a pleasure hearing you perform tonight, Tucker.”

His friends all said they needed to get home, as well, and Tucker spoke with a few others who’d lingered in Java Junction, wishing to say a few words to him. Reagan said she would retrieve the guitar case from upstairs while he finished up.

When she brought it back down, he placed the guitar inside it and then returned it to Dax.

“Thanks for the loan tonight. I’m going to buy one exactly like it,” he announced. “I think that kind of guitar is my new good luck charm.”

“I still have the paperwork from where I bought it,” Dax shared. “I could pick one up for you next week since I’m going into San Antonio.”

“That would be terrific. Let me know how much it is, and thank you again, Dax, for working me into your Saturday night lineup.”

He walked Reagan and Miss Jean to the older woman’s SUV, and she said, “Why don’t you ride home with Tucker? I think he would appreciate that.”

“Thank you, Aunt Jean.” Reagan kissed her aunt’s cheek.

Miss Jean looked at Tucker. “You’re a hell of a songwriter, Tucker Young. You better talk my niece into marrying you soon. Got it?”

“I’ll do my best, Miss Jean,” he promised.

They waited until the old woman backed her vehicle from the parking space and drove down the square, then he walked hand-in-hand with his lady love to his truck.

Before he could open her door, Reagan wrapped her arms around him, drawing him in for an intimate kiss.

“I love you so much, Tucker. I’m so glad tonight was such a success.”

“We’ve got more to celebrate, babe. Let’s go home and get started.”