“Not something I’m known for,” he admitted. “I’m glad to be of service. It was a provocative night—he sang to you.” He held open the door for her. “He sang you a love song.”

They settled into a booth—old red vinyl benches, scarred laminate tabletop, jukebox. The waitress was there in an instant and they ordered coffee and pie.

“He sang a love song to you,” Matt said again. “Women were fainting all over the place, each one wanting to be you.”

“It’s what he does for a living,” she said. “It probably did more for his image to sing a love song to me than to anyone else. Everyone reacted just as you did. Wow, he sang that woman a love song. And by the way, it’s not much of a living.”

“I haven’t figured out that part,” Matt admitted. “I looked him up on the internet and he sounds like a major star... There are pictures of him singing on a big stage to what looks like millions...”

“He’s opened for a few big bands,” she said. “Fifteen minutes to a sellout crowd before the big guys take over for a two-hour concert. He’s got good PR and it costs a fortune.”

“Well, he didn’t turn me on, but he was breaking hearts all over the room. I don’t know if he’s good—I don’t know that much about music. Sounded okay to me. I mean, I hate him, but I think it sounded good.”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked.

“He didn’t treat you right,” Matt said. He shook his head. “He must be a little crazy. Or very stupid.”

“Or I am.” She put cream and sugar in her coffee. “The women surprised you, huh? The exes?”

“Oh, yeah. They shouldn’t have. First of all, I met Lucy in a place just like that. I had gone there looking for women. Or, to be more specific, a woman. And Natalie wanted to go to places like Roy’s. All. The. Time. Every night of the week, if possible. Them being there was far more predictable than me being there.”

“And yet, you wanted a look at Mick?”

“I did. I wanted to see what kind of fool would give you up. What kind of lamebrain would walk away from his wife, his child? It makes no sense to someone like me. In our family if a guy did that, he might be shunned.”

“But you did,” she said.

At first he looked at her in shock. “Natalie didn’t want kids. At least not for quite a while,” he said quietly. He stared into his coffee cup for a long moment. “Ginger, you won’t understand this. I can’t explain this without telling you some things I swore I would never talk about. All I can say—I had to. There were lies and betrayals I just couldn’t get over. I admit, that’s on me. Being married means being able to forgive and I couldn’t. She wants another chance. I wouldn’t dare.”

She sat back. “Then it wasn’t just a simple matter of marrying the wrong person.”

“Is it ever simple?”

“Does seeing her hurt?” she asked.

The pie arrived. The check was slapped down on the table as if the waitress could tell they were engrossed in a serious conversation.

“It didn’t. No. How about you? Did seeing him hurt?”

She smiled at him. “That’s what I came for. To gauge the pain. I invested a lot in that man. Years and years. Promises and patience and vows and sacrifice and I wanted to know if I still longed for him with every piece of my heart. I looked at him and felt nothing. Well, that’s not really true. I felt a little shame—I was a complete fool. I should have known better—he never lied about who he was.”

“He said something to you,” Matt said. “He kissed your cheek at the end of the song and said something.”

“Uh-huh. He said, ‘Wonderful to see you. You look beautiful. Thank you for coming.’ And then he turned and began to sing to a woman two tables away.” She laughed and shook her head. “He thought I came for him. Of course.”

“And you went for you.”

She nodded and cut off a forkful of pie. On its way to her lips she paused. “Have you ever had your heart broken so badly you thought you might die? That you wanted to die?” He nodded solemnly. “Every time Mick couldn’t really be mine, when he finally said it just wasn’t his scene, my heart hurt so bad I wondered how it hadn’t killed me. How does it beat through that? The whole time I mothered my little son I was so grateful to have him, but my heart still ached for the man I had believed in. I decided it would take willpower to let go, but I was getting over him—so slowly, but I was getting over him. Then the baby died.”

She paused for just a second because she couldn’t miss the fact that Matt’s black eyes glittered, like they might be getting wet.

“He just didn’t wake up in the morning,” she went on. “Softly, simply, sweetly, like he had just moved on. No cries, no struggles, no gasping. Just a gentle sleep. Then I knew pain. And grief. All I could think of while I was going through that—not winning Mick was nothing! I couldn’t even remember what it was I thought I loved. Well, that’s been a while now. It’s going to be a year this summer since Josh passed away. I thought it was time to see Mick, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want him to see me. I didn’t want to hear how he’s got a great deal he expects to sign in a month or less. I wanted to see him so I could know once and for all if I’m finally past that insanity that is Mick Cantrell. That’s why I went. I just want to be free.”

“And are you free?”

“Pretty much,” she said, smiling. She sipped her coffee. “He can still manage to annoy me, the arrogant bastard. But for the most part, I rarely even think about him.”

Matt smiled. He took a bite of his pie, and they sat in silence for a moment, enjoying coffee, pie and the company.

“There are new lambs and chicks at the farm,” he finally said.

She gasped, and her face lit up. She smiled brightly.

“Maybe on your way back to Thunder Point you could drop by.”

“Yes,” she said. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you and your family.”

Seven

Matt sat with Ginger for two hours, two pieces of pie and far too much coffee. They passed through the emotional and sentimental stuff and got back to their comfort zone—laughing and teasing.