Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“So we’ll rock a spell.” Brandt shrugged. The guy was undoubtedly oblivious to how he looked like something out of a diaper ad—gorgeous dad, sweet baby, perfect picture. A line of a song danced through Shane’s head, as elusive as sleep.
“Go sleep,” Brandt ordered, shifting Jewel so he could point at the doorway.
“Passed sleepy a couple of hours ago,” Shane admitted, perching on the edge of the twin bed. Exhausted energy surged though him, the same jangly nerves that made it hard to sleep after a late show.
“What? You need a bedtime story or something?” Brandt’s voice was light and warm and made Shane want to tease back.
“Sure. Tell me a story. Make it a good one, something I can use for a song.”
“Worthy of a song?” Brandt shook his head. “Tall order. Let’s see though. Country songs, those are all about achy breaky hearts and regrets right?”
“Something like that.” Shane was enjoying this far, far too much, and he made himself more comfortable on the small bed, pulling his legs up and sitting back. “Guess a lot of my songs are bittersweet, moments that passed by, wondering about what could have been, dealing with what never was. But also legends, the sort of epic stories that simply need a song. I bet you’ve got a few tales like that.”
“Hmm.” Brandt made a thoughtful noise, like he was actually thinking about this. “Legends, huh? Me, I’m not song material, but I’m gonna tell you about my buddy Roger. He deserves a song.”
“Okay.” Shane’s pulse sped up. Somehow he knew he was getting a story Brandt didn’t often tell. Something special. And he wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn Brandt’s trust, but he’d take it.
“It was my rookie smoke-jumping season. I’d done a couple of seasons with line and engine crews, putting in my hours, and damn, I was proud to get that call. Headed to California in a beat to hell Toyota, barely enough for gas money and some food. No plan beyond that. Young and stupid.”
“I get that. I’ve been there more than once, arriving in Nashville with little more than a prayer I wouldn’t be living in my car.” Shane stuffed a lumpy pillow behind his head. “That’s why I turned a few good checks from selling some songs into that old RV. I needed to know I wouldn’t be waking up with some cop’s searchlight in my eyes, telling me to move along.”
“Yeah, you get it. Southern California prices are like that too. I was prepared to spend the season in a tent if I had to, just to get the chance to jump. But first day of training, this freckle-faced kid comes up to me, says they’re one dude short for making rent on an apartment near the air base.” The chair creaked as Brandt rocked, slow and steady. “Terrible place, five of us squashed in there, but Roger, he’d done the math, knew we could afford food and stuff if we split it.”
“So you said yes?”
“Not at first. Didn’t have much to put up toward the deposit, but Roger was determined. That was just how he was. No way in hell was he getting cut from training either.” Brandt gave a low rumble of a chuckle as the baby snuffled, then settled again. “They said seven pullups, he’d do double. And laugh. They said eighty percent on a quiz, he’d go for ninety-nine. Some people would grab a beer after training, but never Roger. Head down. He was gonna be the best damn rookie ever.”
“Sounds like a serious guy.” Shane could relate to that sort of focus. Maybe not on academics, but on his music, especially early on, that drive to be better than simply good.
“He was. But funny thing, so was I back then.” Brandt’s voice took on a far-off quality as he patted Jewel, still rocking. “Everyone else would go out, but we’d be there reviewing procedure manuals. Early morning run? We were first ones in line. Late night equipment inventory? Both our hands were in the air.”
Shane had to shake his head. There was no question that Brandt was a hard worker, but seeing him as an eager beaver young person took a little more imagination. “Wow. I’ve got a hard time picturing you as that much of a go-getter.”
“Yeah, well, I was. And somewhere along the way he became the best friend I ever had. Saved my neck more than once, but I did the same. All season long.”
“Glad you had him.” Was it possible to be jealous of someone he’d never meet? Brandt’s use of the past tense was a major clue that this Roger was no longer around, but still Shane’s jaw tightened.
“Me too. Looking back now, maybe I took him for granted. Never once told him...” Brandt trailed off as the baby squeaked.