Bounty (Colorado Mountain 7)

“Proud of you, baby.”

My voice was husky when I replied, “Thank you, honey.”

“Like that girl said, kick ass.”

“I will.”

Suddenly, we were both up, Deke surging out of the couch, his hands on my waist lifting me with him.

He put me down on my feet and I bent my head way back to keep his eyes.

He dipped his chin deep into his neck to keep mine.

Then he lifted his hand, forefinger extended, so he could slide the tip of it from the top of my throat along the soft skin under my jaw to the point of my chin.

I drew in breath and held it.

He’d touched me, a lot.

A lot, a lot.

But he’d only ever done that to me once before.

The night we met.

In Wyoming.

He remembered.

Everything.

“Give ’em hell, baby girl,” he said softly. “See you on the other side.”

Baby girl.

He’d called me that only in Wyoming too.

“Yeah, Deke.”

His eyes crinkled, one side of his lips hitched up, and I pivoted as I watched him walk out of the room.

I drew in breath and stared at the door.

Twenty thousand people.

I’d never played to a venue that big.

All of them were there for Heaven’s Gate. Let. The Chokers. Uncle Jimmy. Aunt Tammy. Lacey. And the final act who came in after I’d asked their band leader: Stella and the Blue Moon Gypsies.

All of them were there for my daddy.

A knock came on the door, it opened before I called out and Mav swung in.

“They’re ready for us, Jussy,” he said.

I nodded and walked to him.

He took my hand when I got close.

We wound our way through some serious backstage activity to the side stage.

Dana was standing there.

She turned and smiled at us. Reaching out a hand.

It wasn’t me who moved us forward to take it.

It was Mav.

For several long moments we all did nothing but stand there, linked together, looking at each other, holding on tight.

And then, at Mav tugging Dana and my hands, we started to move onstage.

But something made me look back.

When I did, emerging from the shadows and hubbub backstage, Mr. T appeared.

He had eyes on me.

And my heart squeezed when I saw on his lips that he was smiling.

Out and out smiling.

I shot my smile back and then faced forward.

And the three people who meant the most to Johnny Lonesome in his life at his death walked onstage hand in hand to start a kickass party.

* * * * *

I looked back to Dad’s band, smiling so huge it hurt my face, as we all lifted then fell to the final note of one of Dad’s most kickass songs.

I turned back to the crowd of screaming, clapping, shouting fans, the chant of, “Lonesome, Lonesome, Lonesome,” coming in a beautiful wave, undulating all around me.

I swept my smile through them, but at its end, I looked home.

This being to the right side of the stage, cordoned off, fitted with padded seats that were all empty because everyone was standing.

I saw a lot of people I knew who didn’t belong to me.

But with Deke, I saw a lot of people who did, including ones who hadn’t come in to check up on me and raid my mini-fridge: Max and Nina, Sunny and Shambles, Wood and Maggie, Dominic and Daniel, Ham and Zara, Decker and Emme.

Home.

My smile lingered on them before I moved back to the standing microphone.

I’d already sung “Chain Link,” glancing at Deke occasionally throughout as I did.

I did that because Deke knew that song was for him. I didn’t need to make a point of it.

But it was more.

In all that had played out, no one was going to get that. That was only his.

And I wanted to keep that only for Deke.

For him and for me.

I’d also sung Rondstadt’s “It’s So Easy.” I did this for Deke too, liking the curve it put on his lips. But, as ever, I also did it for Joss.

I’d sung others of mine. But that wasn’t the vibe I wanted to give. The slow and the sweet.

No.

I wanted to give them Dad.

So, with his band backing me, we did lots of covers of Dad’s music. And halfway through my set, Lacey, Perry and Terrence (my girl was on after me, Dad’s buds had already done their sets), came out to the crowd going wild, and together we did Dad’s most well-known rompin’, stompin’ rock anthem.

And now it was time for me to wind up so Lacey could do her thing and then Stella and her boys could finish the night off.

I drew in breath and looked out into the dark sea of faces.

Then I said into the mic, “My father was Johnny Lonesome to you. But he was Dad to me. The best dad there could be.” The crowd roared but I kept talking and they quieted quickly to hear me. “I miss him. I’ll always miss him. And part of that is missing the fact that he was gone before he saw that I’d found my peace. But I know he knows that peace is with me. So I figure he’ll like me ending my time with you, singing the words to a freakin’ awesome song to share with you the peace a life of bounty saw fit to give to me.”

I felt the shift in the crowd as I spoke.

They knew, with the media all over it for weeks, what Rudy did, how Deke saved me, Aunt Tammy’s haggard face, Uncle Jimmy’s tight one, Tate, Ty, Wood, Chace, Bubba crowding me, trying to hide me from the cameras as they rushed me to and from cars and hospital.

They knew.

Everyone knew my bounty.

I stepped back, looked over my shoulder, nodded, giving the beat, one, two, three and four and…

I went back to the mic and it was me who flicked my fingernails on the strings for the first notes of Lynyrd Skynrd’s “Simple Man.”