For Love or Music

  For Love or Music

  By

  Isabella Harron

  Copyright © 2019 Isabella Harron

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a product of fiction, any similarities to persons, living or dead or actual evens is purely coincidental.

  Copyright©2019 Isabella Harron

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Life is a song

  Love is the music

  unknown

  Chapter 1

  "Where are we going?" Lincoln asked, from the back seat of the town car as he stared through the window towards the endless landscape changing from flat to gently rolling hills. His manager, Troy, always wheeling and dealing, sending messages with one hand while talking on a device on the opposite side. Never without at least two electronic devices, he gives new meaning to the need to being unplugged. Lincoln leaned back against the seat, shuttering his eyes in a half-way attempt to block his worries from the forefront of his focus. Knowing Troy would eventually return his attention towards the backseat and the problem at hand. Frustrated over the complete lack of control over his life, he ran his long-tapered fingers through his much in need of a cut, hair before returning the faded ball cap lowering the brim over his eyes.

  "Someplace where you can lay low for a while until the paparazzi give up their chase." Troy registered the question after ending his call.

  "Did it have to be Texas?" Lincoln opened his eyes to view the world passing him by as the green pastures appeared, dotted with cows and a lone rider. Filled with longing, he pressed his nose to the glass reminding him of his childhood days when life on the other side of the glass held more excitement than the world he went home to each day. "Why couldn't I go home to North Carolina? At least there, I could get some of the things done I need to finish." Troy put the electronics down, turning towards the back seat, to the young star. He knew he needed to share the information with Lincoln, the information that had the power to damage all the hard work he had accomplished over the past few years.

  Troy could not help but remember the first time, when he met Lincoln, walking into his office in Nashville ten years before. At the time the nineteen-year-old walked in with a hundred bucks in his torn blue jeans, and a guitar that had seen better days. Back when his desire for stardom blinded Lincoln, determined to make enough money to save his family's farm. All it took was him belting out one original song, and Troy was sold, been his manager ever since. Troy could not deny the fatherly affection he had for Lincoln from the beginning, at twenty-five years his junior, always compelled to protect his friend. Troy ran his fingers through his graying hair, working through the courage he needed, "Linc, son, I have not been candid with you. I have tried to shield you from the majority of this divorce mess. I don't know if I was right to do that or not. But, in my defense the hours you spent cranking out this album, and those songs are nothing short of amazing. I hated to see anything destroy that inspiration."

  Lincoln, leaned forward with concern etched across his features from the dark wavy hair now flowing with the ball cap off and on the seat beside him. His crystal blue eyes, dull from exhaustion when he asks. "Hey, can you tell me what has happened?"

  "Linc, your wife Lacey, well I mean your soon to be ex-wife Lacey is going after your family's farm. Her lawyers are arguing that the money you invested in after you two married makes it half hers. This divorce is going to get ugly. Linc, she is claiming abuse." Troy hesitates, allowing the information a moment to sink in as Troy waits for the anger. What he did not expect was pure silence as Lincoln continues to stare out of the car window.

  Lincoln attempts to process the information in his own manner, wondering what had possessed him to marry the young country singer. His career had just taken off when they had met on the road five years before. He was scheduled to sing at a large fair in Virginia. With two hours to kill before he was due on the main stage, he mingled in public undetected. She was singing in one of the smaller outside tents, where he went in search of a beer, and there she was, in front of him. Mesmerized, they dated only six months before he popped the question, by far the biggest mistake of his life.

  Now looking back, he realized that he was a stepping-stone, for her and her career. Their careers had exceeded their imaginations, and hers focused on the union of their musical union. It grew more evident with each day as their tours taking them in opposite directions. He should have known better; she was young, only twenty when they had met. It didn't take long for him to hear about her flings with other musicians. He filed for divorce, and that is when the mudslinging began, with horrible accusations from her people. He didn't blame them; his publicist would have done the same if he would have allowed the war to take place. Instead, Lincoln chose to sit back and wait, realizing it was much easier for the public to blame the husband instead of the little wife.

  Pulling himself from his memories to ask. "So where are we headed?"

  "My sister's place. Kevin and Sherri Montgomery. They have a horse farm in the small town of Mason. They provide training and have quite a large clientele. With your background, it wouldn't be hard for you to fit in this town. My sister said if you are willing, they could use your help. She has a bunkhouse ready for you; it has everything you might need. The goal is for you to maintain a low profile. You will be going by your birth name, Wade Owens." Lincoln took a deep breath, feeling a sudden sense that the optimism he dreamed of spending his days with horses, hit with the truth of how much he missed that life. "Sherri and her husband are teachers at the local high school. They plan to retire at the end of the school year. They have expanded the farm for the past few years now, so there will be plenty to keep you busy."

  "How will I explain who I am?"

  "You are a nephew visiting from out west to help with the farm." Troy took a moment to enjoy the scenery, the hill country of Texas in the springtime never ceased to spark memories of his childhood. He lived and worked in Nashville, but he always considered Texas home. "I figured the physical work might help you work off some of that stress you have been carrying around." Lincoln yawned.

  "How long until we get there?" The driver glanced towards the GPS, responding to the question.

  "Less than three hours."

  "Okay, wake me when we get there." Pulling his Carolina Feed ball cap low onto his forehead, Lincoln was out before Troy could respond to another text.

  Chapter 2

  "Emily two double stacks, one with rings and one with fries." Meghan clipped the ticket to the holder as she spouted off the new order. Emily used the back of her arm to wipe the sweat from her brow, hot, tired, and frustrated after their cook of five years, quit with little to no warning. Here she was doing double duty for the busy lunch crowd; as one of the owners of Em's Diner, she had her own responsibilities. Now with needing a new cook, that could take weeks to find another.

  The one thing going Emily's way was that as one of the few restaurants in Mason, Texas, with a population of three thousand and growing, they were busy. Having the diner in the town square was worth the cost of the lease, the business was booming, especially luncht
ime, they were busy. With several businesses, located around the square making the diner within walking distance.

  Emily finished the order, usually at this time, after one, they had reached the last order. Taking a much-needed breather, Emily acted on the free moment to stop by the restroom and freshen up her appearance. Washing her face, she brushed her long blond hair, pulling in back into a hair clip. She could not deny her hair was in desperate need of attention, noting her age had begun to make subtle changes to her body. Touching up what little makeup she did wear, spying some new baby fine worry lines. "Well, ain't that just great." Turning thirty-nine last week had been a sad birthday for Emily alone. Well, not quite alone, she had her teenage daughter Katie. At fourteen, Katie was very much a happy socializing teenager, which meant she was busy most weekends, leaving Emily home, alone to face the quiet.

  Emily's first and only love had been Joe Morris, after meeting in high school, she was not much older than her daughter is now. When Emily closes her eyes at night, she still sees him, like slide shows of old photographs, playing through her mind until she drifts off to sleep. Even now she can imagine him standing before her in his football uniform as if it was yesterday. From that moment they met, they were inseparable until he deployed with the Marines. She would never have imagined that he would not come home to her and their daughter. It was happily ever after, even if the ever after only lasted until Katie turned four.

  Sometimes when she listens to music, she could feel Joe with his chest against her back, holding her close, swaying to the music. Emily loved to sleep because, in her dreams, he was still there, next to her, holding her deep into the night.

  She wiped the lone tear from her cheek, applying a soft touch of blush and prepared herself for the remainder of the day. Sighing as she realized how it was once again nearing the weekend, feeling the effects of a child growing older until one day will leave the nest, causing an ache as deep as the river. Emily pushed thoughts of her daughter reaching adulthood away to focus on the ping of the front door opening and the three men stepping inside.

  #

  "Linc, we are here." Troy and the driver opened their doors as Lincoln rubbed his face, scanning the small town, noticing the square, and the grand courthouse in the center. It could be any small town, anywhere, any state. Lincoln noted the resemblance to the small towns near his farm back home. He glanced up towards the diner sign as he unfolded his body from the backseat. Stretching his long legs, he stepped onto the sidewalk. He followed the other men into the diner, taking a seat.

  Troy purposely grabbed the first chair, forcing Lincoln to have his back facing the window. Lincoln stretches his six-foot-two frame before he folds into the chair, easing up to the table, resting his elbows against the edge, looking up as the waitress nears the table.

  "Good afternoon. Welcome to Em's." She hands menus to each of the men. "What can I bring you to drink?" Emily patiently waited as the oldest of the three gentlemen placed his phone down onto the table, glance towards the menu, before responding.

  "Sweet tea." His glance towards the other two, a middle-aged man sat stiffly in his chair, nodding. Finally, the youngest of the trio looked up, giving her the first glimpse of the most beautiful blue eyes Emily had ever seen. Tongue tied, struggling for words as his deep voice also requested a tea.

  "Take a moment to look over the menu. I will bring your drinks shortly." Emily returned to the kitchen her mouth dry as the desert filled with cotton. When she once again faced the table, with a tray of drinks a few minutes later, they placed their order. She set their glasses down on the table in front of the two older gentlemen, nervously surprised when instead of allowing her to set his drink down, blue eyes lifted his hand to reach for the tea. Their fingertips touched, as bolts of electricity zinged through her body, warming her from the inside.

  "Thank you, mam."

  Lincoln watched her cheeks blush, as she smiled, enjoying the interaction something he had not experienced in quite some time. The tricky part of a marriage turning bad is it tended to lend a certain wariness towards the opposite sex. Other than his fans, where he had learned a long time ago, never to take the propositions along with the discarded stray pieces of underwear with phone numbers, seriously. No, he missed being a regular guy meeting a normal girl.

  Lincoln and his company enjoyed the homemade double stack hamburgers and fries, not realizing that he was indeed stalling. He liked the little diner in this small town. Turning in his chair slightly so that he might observe the scene that is unfolding before him, through the window as people went about their daily business. So simple and happy all at the same time.

  Chapter 3

  Emily continued to feel shaky and unsettled long after the three strangers paid for their food and left. She could not help but notice the odd dark town car. "Stalker" came to mind, as she watched him glance up to her sign, then towards the window where she had stood watching him. He touched the brim of his worn cap in a southern salute staring towards her exact place next to the counter.

  "Oh, lord, I have completely lost my mind." Fanning herself, she went in search of something cold to drink and to take a rest on the back stoop before her day once again, as luck would have it the day turned out to be abnormally busy for a Wednesday. The diner picked up around three and continued that way until closing time. Since opening the restaurant with Meghan, her best friend, the busy moms had stuck to closing at six. Emily recognized her choice not to date since becoming a widow after working and caring for a child; her free time was severely limited. Most Saturday nights, her idea of excitement was a good movie, popcorn with drizzled chocolate and her favorite pajamas. Her hair usually can be found up in a messy bun, a scrubbed-clean face and hopefully the smell of fries removed from her skin.

  Emily stopped wiping the last table, with closing time ten minutes away, and the final customer had departed. "What in the world made me even think of dating?" She muttered to herself. "In the past ten years since she had lost Joe, and never inclined to dip her foot into the dating pool, more than once." Emily reflected over her life, recalling that one time. "No. Not even when what was his name, the… the." Laughter interrupted her thoughts.

  "The who?" Meghan pinched her best friend. "Penny for your thoughts."

  Emily hesitated, realizing she would never be able to get away with not sharing a secret.

  "I find myself thinking about my lack of time to date or even to have a relationship. Then it dawned on me. I never gave dating much thought before. Even when that new insurance guy came to town, remember?" Meghan's perplexed expression has Emily answering her own question. "He was a little slimy for my tastes." Meghan laughed.

  "You mean Preston, the one who asked you out for two solid weeks before he finally turned his attention to Merrilee, the court reporter that was a couple of years behind us in school. They are married with four kids now, and not slimy like a used car salesman, he was from a large city, and he likes to focus on his clothing." Emily makes a face. "He still does. Merrilee insists he spends more on his wardrobe then she does." Meghan paused, mid-laugh remembering his shoes. She notices the melancholy look of loss drifting in her friend's eyes. Having been friends since kindergarten, and all that they had shared. Three childbirths, two deaths, Joe, Emily's husband, and Margie, Meghan's mom to cancer, through it all they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

  "Em, sit." Meghan pulls a chair out for each of them, taking the cloth from Emily's hands. Taking her best friend's hands between her own, recalling all the times holding tight as teenagers when one of them had their hearts broken by one boy or another. "Em, are you finally thinking about men?" Emily took a deep breath, admitting out loud the feelings she felt too scared to voice.

  "I don't know why but today when that guy came in with his faded jeans and a battered baseball cap. He looked at me with those blue eyes. His fingers brushed mine for the briefest of seconds, and the strangest thing happened." Meghan scooted to the edge of her seat, ready for what her
friend could reveal. "Meghan, I felt for the first for the first time in over ten years, the possibilities for a new life." The tears fell. Emily did not intend to release the ones she managed to control during the daylight. Only at night, she allowed them to flow when she could no longer contain the pain she felt. Her willpower not to cry for herself, or the man or the love she lost when she chose to focus all her energy on the child she raised, an image of the great man her father once was.

  She did not cry for what she was missing, but now, she cried. Meghan held her until she released the last sob, with salty drops drying on her cheeks when she dared to ask Emily.

  "Em. Do you think this guy is the reason you started thinking?" Emily could not answer.

  "I have no idea. Maybe it was his eyes, the color of the water is so blue it makes you just want to dive in, they were like that. But at the same time, they held this sadness as if deep down, he was hiding his pain."

  Emily pressed her palms to her forehead, admitting. "This is stupid. The thing is I have had other men touch my hand or arm and never did it feel the way when his fingers grazed mine." She sighed. "This is completely crazy. I stood at the damn window and watched him get into the car. He had this dark brown hair. He was tall and muscular and not one of those bodybuilding types, but like a man that works." Meghan suppressed the urge to giggle.

  "Em, for only seeing him for a brief amount of time you sure do remember a great deal."

  "Meg, I know you are trying to stop from laughing; it is not funny."

  "You are right. It is not funny, it is wonderful. Welcome back to the land of the living."

  Emily threw her head down onto her arms on the table, muttering to herself.