Catch a Falling Star (14 page)

“That’s awful.” He couldn’t imagine his dad doing that. “We always had a horse or two around here. Maddie rides the most now.”

“So what about you? What are you afraid of?”

“Letting people down, especially my family.” When he’d been injured, all he could think of was that he wasn’t a soldier anymore. The memory galled him, still. “I never planned to leave the Army after eight years. I was planning on going the full twenty, or more. Just like my dad, who went almost thirty. He retired a Lieutenant Colonel.”

“I’m sure they’re
very
proud of you. I think you’re a remarkable person, Billy Tucker.” Justine rose and sat on the porch floor, her arms resting on the arm of his chair. “The one who’s hardest on you, is you.”

“Life sure doesn’t turn out the way we plan sometimes.” He allowed himself to touch her hair, now as pale as her face in the dim light.

“No, it doesn’t.”

He broke his rule and kissed her.

Starlight’s Hattie Hempstead auditorium was full again, this time for the screening of the first episode of
Second Chances
. Justine could hardly wait to see the twenty-two-minute episode. Billy sat beside her on the front row.

The paparazzi had linked them together now, but as she’d suspected, someone else was news fodder. Willow Stephens had gone to rehab for the fourth time after being caught drunk on film on an LA street. Sad, sad news. Maybe Willow would get the help she needed. Even Justine had told her one-time costar she needed help. At the time, Willow had called her a hypocrite and told her to go take care of her own issues.

“I can’t believe we shot for almost two days to get twenty-two minutes of footage.” Billy shook his head.

“That’s how it works. Every photographer wants to get the best shot and piece everything together.”

Mayor Potts welcomed the audience, noting the presence of local media to cover the screening. “This is good for Starlight and shows how we take care of our military and always appreciate their service. The Tucker family has been here for over a decade, and we thank them for making it a better place, even in the face of tragedy. And now, Maureen Baker, of Baker Street Productions.”

Maureen took the microphone to applause. “First, thank you, Starlight, for having us as your guests. We’re happy to be back to share with you what we’ve shared with NBC and TLC. Both networks are giving us bids for the show, and we know it’s because of two people here tonight—Justine Campbell and Staff Sergeant William Tucker.”

The place exploded with applause and cheers. This was better than any night on the red carpet, better than hearing her name mentioned as a Golden Globe nominee. This is what she wanted to do. Justine wanted to help tell stories, like Billy’s. Although she’d never call him William. Ever.

He made a face at Maureen’s use of his full name. “It’s Billy. Never William. Only my mom said that when I was a kid,” he whispered.

Justine laughed softly. “I’ll remember that.”

The opening music started, and everyone cheered when they saw the Starlight city-limits sign.

“Starlight, a town of nearly ten thousand, is nestled against the 340 square miles that make up Fort Hood, the largest military base in the free world with around forty-thousand uniformed troops,” came Maureen’s voice.

“Hoo-ah!” came a few shouts from the audience.

Justine didn’t know Maureen would do a voice-over during the episode. That was a nice touch. It set the stage for the show. Oh. And there was her name, “hosted by Justine Campbell.” Ever since Neil had disappeared, she hadn’t known what to do about her contracts. Not like Maureen had one for her. Maybe Maureen could refer her to another agent. But host?

“Billy Tucker, Army scout, nearly lost his leg in Iraq. He sustained severe nerve and tendon injuries to both forearms when a rocket-propelled grenade struck the vehicle he was riding in. Two other individuals in the vehicle did not survive the attack.” The crowd fell silent at Maureen’s somber words..

Justine reached for Billy’s hand in the dark auditorium and squeezed it. He didn’t respond. The episode played out. Her favorite part was the scene in the leather shop. There was the first set of boots Billy made, alongside her own fumbling work in progress. They’d be gorgeous once she finished them. The pain had been worth it. She looked down at both hands. Stronger now, less painful. Thanks to Billy.

And then came the shots of the cottage and an interview with the Tremontes, who’d discovered they had a family worth saving. They were starting to put the pieces of their lives back together, through loving each other and with God’s help.

When the closing credits came on, Justine was dabbing her eyes. This was beautiful work, and she was proud to have a hand in it.
Thank You, God.
She always believed actors were storytellers.
This
was the kind of story she wanted to help tell.

After the episode, Maureen had to shout above the applause and cheers. The chairs popped behind Justine as people stood, applauding. She stood as well, glancing at Billy, who remained in his seat, his focus on his feet, clad in his favorite boots.

“Thank you, thank you,” Maureen was saying. “First, I’d like to call Justine to come forward.”

Justine climbed the steps at the side of the platform and joined Maureen on the stage. Thankfully, she’d worn a comfortable yet elegant dress in her favorite shade of blue, plus the killer heels that made her feel like she stood on the red carpet.

“Let me tell you something about Justine,” Maureen said. “I initially offered her the episode, but she told me about Billy and his story. Then she stepped in and acted as a host during filming. She’s been an asset the entire time. I am grateful that she changed her mind.”

“I was happy to help.” Justine smiled. What was Maureen getting at here?

“I haven’t talked to her about it, but once our lawyers agree on the terms of one of the networks’ offers, I’m inviting Justine to be our full-time host.” Maureen beamed. “She’s one of yours, Starlight, and her own comeback story makes her a natural for this show.”

The applause masked Maureen’s next words.

“. . .So what do you think, Justine? Will you come to our offices in LA and be on our staff? We need your creative input. There are many ‘second chance’ stories all over the country that we need to tell.”

Justine glanced down at the front row of seats, where the Tuckers sat, along with Azalea and Herb. Mom? Her mother was there, too? Mom glowed from her chair at the other end of the aisle.

“I’ll definitely have to consider your offer, Maureen. Thank
you
for getting in touch with me. It was an answer to prayer before I even prayed it.” She smiled.

“We love you, Justine!” a trio of teenage girls squealed.

“Thanks, girls,” Justine said. “Thank you all for coming tonight.”

Maureen scanned the auditorium. “And now, we welcome to the stage the real star tonight. Starlight’s own local hero, Billy Tucker.”

Justine looked down to see an empty seat where Billy had been just moments before. Billy. . . Where had he gone?

#             

Billy stood outside the darkened workshop, panting for breath. He didn’t know how he’d gotten home. Didn’t realize he’d parked in the driveway under the darkened sky. No one had heard him drive up, evidently, although lights were on inside the house and Jake’s truck was in the drive.

Maddie had planned a party and made a cake to celebrate after the screening of the show. Everyone had cheered after the twenty-two minutes of sheer torture on the screen at Hattie Hempstead. Everyone except him. His whole sorry story, from beginning until now, in its grim detail.

And then, when Justine had glided up on stage, everything became clear.

She didn’t really know him at all. Worse, he didn’t really know her, either.

He yanked open the workshop door and flipped on the light. He stomped over to the leather cutting table and slung the pile of leather sheets to the floor.

The toolbox was next, followed by his neatly stored cutters and bevellers. The metal tools pinged off the limestone walls. Stupid, he’d been so stupid. It was all for a part, so she could get out of Starlight and on with her life.

He knocked the foot molds onto the floor and kicked the ones closest to his boot tip. They sprayed up in a pile of shoe-shaped plastic. The work stools toppled like dominoes.

Billy stopped before sending the jars of dye across the room.

“God, how did I fall for this?” He was sure God’s ideas for handling his anger didn’t include trashing his workshop. But it was here, where he felt most vulnerable, that this, this
whatever
it was with Justine Campbell had begun. He should have known better. All the warning signs were there. She lived by a different standard than he did. No, he let himself, let his heart slide into her grasp.

He picked up one of the stools and sat, surveying the mess he’d made.

Feel better?
his mother used to ask him as a child, after he would pitch a fit.

Yes. No
. Not really. Plus, he’d just wrenched his back with all the kicking and swiping items from the top of the worktables.

But it was better than punching something, or someone. Not that he would
ever
hurt Justine.

He’d fallen for her charms, her beauty. The gutsiness, her determination to heal from her wounds and deal with her scars.

“Billy, sorry I’m late.” Justine stood in the doorway. “Maureen and I were talking about the show. The news crew from Channel 9 in Waco wants to come by. . . .” She gasped. “What happened? Did you have a break-in?”

“No. It wasn’t that. Not at all.” He ground out the words. “Tell the reporters to take a hike. You can all take a hike.”

#             

“What?” Justine tried to process what Billy had just said. Angry. She’d never seen him angry, not like this. It looked like a twister had thrown most of the contents of his workshop around the tiny room. “I don’t understand. . . .”

“I should have known the idea of a show was a bad one from the start.” He practically spat out the words.

“Bad idea? Look, I did this for you.” Justine entered the workshop and placed a hand on his arm. “Maureen offered the first episode to me. She wanted to do it about me. An entire episode where I would have the chance for people to see me, the real me, and that I’m planning to come back.”

He pushed her hand off his arm. “I looked beyond pathetic. Do you have any idea of what it’s like to see yourself like that?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Do you want me to look up the pictures from my crash online? Because I can do that if you want proof. And nobody
asked
me what I wanted. Nobody asked my permission. Nobody gave me control of
my
story. And that’s what Maureen gave you.” She realized she was nearly shouting, not backing down from Billy’s growling.

He was on his feet again. “When that airs, I’ll look like any other hard luck story. From coast to coast. Well, I’m going to call and tell her to forget it.”

“You can’t.” She didn’t understand his anger. This was the last reaction she expected. “You signed legal forms that you allow her to use your image and likeness and story for the show, without further compensation or consent.” She knew that much was true.

“Well, I’ll find a way. Even if I have to get a lawyer.”

“That’ll tank Maureen’s show if you try to pull the episode.” Justine started to pace the area between the table and the wall. “She’ll have to start over.”

“Poor Maureen.” Billy crossed his arms over his chest. “And poor you.”

“Poor me? What do you mean, poor me?”

“This was your ticket out of here. Out of Starlight. Away from this place you’ve only been tolerating these past months.”

His words hit her with the force of a slap. “Is that what you think? That I was helping Maureen with the show, just to get the role of host? I didn’t even know she was going to offer me that position, not until tonight onstage.”

Billy didn’t say anything, just stared at her with a disappointed, smoldering look. “I let you in here, against my better judgment. I could have told you to leave me alone, stick with your physical therapy in Temple. But no, it was easier with you here. So I fell for it. Your role of a lifetime.”

“You think I was acting? Well, I wasn’t. I was falling in love with you, and I know you were falling in love with me, too.” Justine felt like she was talking to a wall, an unyielding mass of brick and mortar.

He shook his head. “I wish I could believe you.”

“I wish you could too. But I wish you would watch that story again, with fresh eyes.
You
have a story worth hearing about. People only want to hear mine so they can make fun of me, or condemn me, or. . .whatever. And I was hoping people would hear your story and want to get involved in what you’re doing. With the cottages. And this wonderful ranch.”

“I told you, I don’t want anyone else coming in and taking over the program, or telling me how to run things.”

“Maybe not, but don’t let pride keep you from accepting help from other people. Isn’t that what we both learned in physical therapy? You and I both needed people to help us do the simplest things.” She wanted someone, anyone, to come and intervene and reason with this stubborn, stubborn man.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well what?”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“That’s all I
can
say. If you won’t listen to me, then it’s your loss. And keep the boots. I don’t want them anymore.” She left the workshop, trying not to stumble as she headed for her car.