Cowboy in the Making. Julie Benson

have music in my life. It just won’t be the center of my universe.”

      Now that Emma’s shock had subsided, her anger kicked in. How dare Molly bail on the rest of the band? People who had counted on her, who thought they’d shared the same goal. “We’ve got appearances scheduled and the state fair is less than a month away. What’re we supposed to do? Do you know how long it will take to find a replacement?”

      “I meant to talk to you when I applied for the teaching position, but the time never seemed right.”

      “Really? I seem to remember a lot of opportunities that would’ve been perfect. How about when we talked about signing up for the state fair contest, or when we were planning career strategies for next year to increase our visibility and presence on social media? Those would’ve been pretty good times to mention you were thinking about quitting.”

      Molly nodded and clasped her hands in her lap. “You’re right. The truth is I didn’t want to face you. I didn’t think you’d understand.”

      She was right about that. Emma didn’t understand how someone could let go of a dream she’d spent years working toward, especially when they were so close.

      How could they find another fiddle player, integrate that person into the band and be ready for a performance at a major contest in less than a month?

      She’d manage that because she had to. Sure, she enjoyed her job at the shelter, but she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life as a volunteer coordinator. Music was her life. Playing the guitar, singing and writing songs wasn’t what she did. It was a part of who she was, but playing in local bars and at weddings wasn’t enough. She wanted more, and no way would she let this opportunity pass her by. She’d do whatever was necessary to keep her dream alive. Nothing else mattered.

      “I won’t lie. I don’t understand how you can say teaching music to children will be enough for you, but if you think that’ll make you happy, then that’s what you have to do.”

      I just wish your decision wasn’t throwing my dream into a tailspin, but if you don’t want this as much as I do, then it’s a good thing you’re leaving.

      As she watched Molly leave, Emma thought, six months. That’s all it would take before Molly called to say she’d made a mistake leaving the band. Life could sidetrack people with dreams. Parents got sick. Keeping a roof over their heads or wanting to eat food other than ramen noodles got in the way, but ambitions like theirs never died.

      She glanced at her notes for her volunteer orientation and training but couldn’t focus. As day jobs went, hers as volunteer coordinator for the Estes Park animal shelter was a pretty good one. It had its perks, the biggest of which being on tough days like today she could hide in the kennels and play with puppies until she could face the world. Yup. A little puppy therapy was the only thing that kept her going today.

      * * *

      TWENTY MINUTES LATER Emma looked up from her spot on the kennel floor when her best friend and boss, Avery Montgomery, walked in. “You’re playing with puppies. What’s wrong?”

      “Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed unless you cuddle puppies.” Emma pulled the wiggling black bundle closer to her chest as she gave Avery a quick rundown of her conversation with Molly. “Unless we find a new fiddle player, last weekend’s performance may have been Maroon Peak Pass’s swan song.”

      “What’re the chances you can find a replacement relatively quickly?” Avery asked as she settled onto the floor beside Emma. One fluffy, roly-poly pup crawled off Emma’s lap and waddled over to her friend.

      “It’s harder than you think. Talented musicians who are serious about their craft are already in bands and most aren’t looking to change.”

      “Can you go on without a fiddle if you can’t find someone else in time for the state fair contest?”

      “It’s hard enough to stand out among all the country acts. Adding Molly helped define our sound. Now all of our arrangements and the new music I’ve written are for a band with a fiddle. I don’t want to think about how long it would take to rework everything. We’d definitely have to cancel our upcoming engagements.”

      “I’m sorry, Em. I know how much the band means to you.” Avery scooped up a pup and scratched him behind the ears.

      Avery was one of the few people in her life who truly understood how her need for a career in country music drove her. Emma wished her family understood better. They couldn’t grasp why she wasn’t content with her job at the shelter. It was stable and provided her with a paycheck every two weeks. She could play musician on the weekends. Why did she want more? She couldn’t put her need into words. She only knew she couldn’t settle for less than giving a music career her best shot. Not now, when she was older and wiser than when she’d dashed off to Nashville at eighteen all full of hopes and dreams but not much common sense.

      “I wish Molly had waited a little longer to quit. Even a day. I could’ve handled it better. Why did she have to tell me today?” Emma bit her lip and tried to ignore the ache spreading through her. “He turns seven today. Between that and Molly’s bombshell, it’s too much to take.”

      Seven years ago she gave birth to a son and watched the nurse walk out of the room to hand him to someone else to raise.

Chapter Two

      Emma didn’t even know her son’s name.

      The pain that enveloped her after she’d given him up for adoption had been overwhelming. Looking back she had no idea how she’d gotten through those first few months, but somehow she had. While the sting had lessened over the years, her emotions still flared up at times. Certain days were worse than others—Christmas, Mother’s Day and her son’s birthday. Each year they became easier to get through, but something was different with his birthday this year.

      “I’m sorry, Em. I forgot what today was. I can’t imagine how tough this is for you every year.”

      “I think of him a lot, but I’ve been doing that more than usual lately. Sometimes I wonder what he looks like and what he’s doing. Does he like sports? Is he taking piano lessons?” The list of questions was endless. Did he have her dark coloring and green eyes, or Tucker’s golden hair and brown eyes? Had he inherited their musical ability?

      The puppy she held snuggled closer to her chest all warm and fuzzy, full of endless energy and unconditional love. While puppy kisses couldn’t fix all the world’s problems, they definitely helped. “The questions I understand, but it shouldn’t hurt this much. It didn’t last year. I don’t get what’s going on.”

      “Have you contacted—” Avery paused for a minute, lines of concern evident on her beautiful face.

      Emma recognized the awkwardness. It showed up whenever anyone considered saying a certain phrase to her.

      “It’s okay. You can say the word. Parents. Have I contacted his parents?”

      “Have you? Maybe they’ve changed their minds about the closed adoption. Could be they’d agree to send you photos or updates on how he’s doing. Then you wouldn’t have to wonder.”

      “You know me. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of girl. When I quit dating a guy I can’t be friends. How could I be happy with emails and a few pictures?”

      “I wish I had an answer for you.”

      Emma did, too. It would be so much easier if life came with an instruction manual. Then, during the rough spots, she could flip the book open and read the directions. For this type of life problem, do A, then B and everything will turn out great.

      “I bet Tucker never thinks about me or our son.” He’d barely thought about her when they were living together. The familiar anger welled up inside her—at him for his wandering eye, and other body parts for that matter, as well as at herself for her schoolgirl foolishness.