His Country Cinderella. Karen Smith Rose

that maybe you have too much pride?” he asked, almost rhetorically.

      “Didn’t a woman ever tell you she might want to live her life on her own terms?”

      He seemed to wince at that, but then he shook his head. “I don’t want to be bad karma for you. I don’t want you to worry about how you’re going to pay your bills.”

      “I’ve been worrying about that for years, but I’ve managed.”

      “Life is about more than managing…when it’s good.”

      As he said those words, Jeannette saw pain in Zane’s eyes. They hadn’t gotten a chance tonight to talk about more than where he was from. She didn’t know much more about him now than she had before dinner. Had he kept his life hidden on purpose? If so, why?

      So she asked again. “All right, so now I know why you would do it. Let me ask you now how you would do it. I mean, my salary’s not stupendous, but most people couldn’t just add that into their budget as another bill.”

      “You really don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked, studying her so probingly that she felt almost turned inside out.

      “Who are you?” She heard the wobble in her voice because she was suddenly afraid to learn the answer. After all, Dillon Traub had indicated he was a stand-up guy.

      “I’m Zane Gunther.”

      She must have still looked blank because he added, “The country singer.”

      The only music she listened to blared from the Disney Channel. She’d ignored country music over the years because it had always touched her too much—bringing back memories she’d rather forget. But as she studied the man before her, a man she hadn’t recognized out of his stage-presence context, she remembered a poster she’d seen last year for Frontier Days—a community celebration to bring in tourists. She now remembered Zane Gunther’s ruggedly handsome, clean-shaven face, his black Stetson, the much-shorter hair, his twinkling green eyes. Her lips opened in surprise and she was absolutely speechless. Zane Gunther—the singer—had brought ribs to her house for dinner?

      Zane had picked up his Stetson from the counter and plopped it on his head. Then he leaned into her, kissed her parted lips for a soul-stirring moment and backed away.

      By the time Jeannette recovered her wits, he’d stepped outside and closed the door.

      Too stunned to go after him, too shaken by his kiss, she touched her fingers to her lips and wondered if she’d ever see the mega-star again.

      Jeannette mounted the steps to the Thunder Canyon Library on Saturday afternoon, determined to find out everything she could about Zane Gunther. She’d heard the name bandied about on TV shows after the Country Music Awards and, of course, during last year’s Frontier Days. But he looked so different! She didn’t know his music. And she certainly didn’t know why he’d be staying on top of a mountain near Thunder Canyon.

      After five minutes at the library’s computer, however, she knew exactly why. He was escaping the paparazzi furor, anyone who wanted to interview him, as well as what had happened. She didn’t know which account to believe. Everyone spun a story the way they wanted it to be heard. She’d like to hear the truth from Zane himself. But which Zane? Mountain Man Zane? Or Zane Gunther, the country singer?

      She might never have the chance to hear anything from him. He could be gone tomorrow!

      Yet she remembered that kiss. Surely he hadn’t been as affected as she had. After all, he was Zane Gunther. Why had he even wanted to come to dinner at her place?

      The woman at the computer next to her, obviously nosy, saw the content of what she’d been searching. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?” The curly redhead in jeans, who looked to be near sixty, around Edna’s age, obviously wanted to strike up a conversation.

      “I don’t know much about him,” Jeannette admitted. “That’s why I was doing a search on him.”

      “I heard he was asked to perform at Frontier Days again, but he turned it down. Maybe he’s afraid to show his face.”

      Jeannette mulled over everything she’d read. “Or maybe he’s had enough of showing his face and everybody jumping on him.”

      “Have you seen him in concert?”

      “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

      “Oh, I was there last year. He was wonderful! Makes you think he’s a regular guy.”

      “Maybe he is.”

      “Not with all that money. I heard he’s got a place in Nashville and one in Utah.”

      “I suppose he travels a lot.”

      “Especially when he’s on tour. No wonder he doesn’t have a family. Who could with that kind of schedule?”

      Jeannette’s heart took a nosedive. She supposed that was true. On the other hand, she knew there were singers who had successful relationships and children. Why did that matter to her?

      She shut down the search engine and was about to get up when the woman next to her asked, “So why were you looking him up?”

      Why, indeed? She almost said, Because I met him and was curious. But then she thought about the story she’d read, the pain in Zane’s eyes, the way he’d looked at her. “Like you said, I heard a rumor he might perform at Frontier Days again this year. I was just curious.”

      “Never happen,” the woman said with certainty. “We probably won’t see his face again until he goes to trial. I bet that family will win.”

      Jeannette had no idea what would happen. But she did know one thing. From the change in Zane Gunther’s appearance, from the way he was living on that mountain, she guessed his life had already changed irrevocably.

      Jeannette’s car was running rough as she pulled up in front of Edna and Mel’s two-story colonial house in an older section of Thunder Canyon. Since before Jonah was born, this house had been her home. She’d moved in during her pregnancy and stayed until a few months ago. But she had to be on her own now. That was best for her and Jonah.

      She rapped on the door to announce her arrival and went inside. Mel and Edna were sitting in matching recliners watching TV, while Jonah played with blocks over in the corner.

      He ran to her and hugged her around the waist. “I missed you.”

      “I missed you, too, honey. Ready to go?”

      “You look beat,” Mel said matter-of-factly. He was usually cheery but always to the point.

      “I should wear roller skates on Saturday nights,” she joked. “LipSmackin’ Ribs was hopping.”

      Edna frowned. “Do you think they’ll have a winter uniform?”

      Jeannette looked down at her royal blue short shorts, the skimpy white T-shirt that left part of her tummy showing, the logo on the front with its big red lips. “I’m pretty sure this is an all-year-round uniform. As fast as we move, we don’t get cold.”

      She understood Edna wasn’t worried about her getting cold. She disapproved of her showing off her body. When Jeannette worked at LipSmackin’ Ribs with the other waitresses, she could make herself believe the uniform wasn’t so bad. But outside of the restaurant, she found it hard to defend. What happened when values and the need for money smashed into each other?

      She had to pay the bills. A few business classes taken at night didn’t qualify her for a CEO position. Right out of high school she’d worked as a secretary for a textile company in Thunder Canyon. But it had closed its doors a few years later. After that, she’d worked for an insurance company in Bozeman as a receptionist. That’s where she’d met Ed. But early in her pregnancy she’d had to quit that job because of severe morning sickness and then a near miscarriage. After Ed died, Edna and Mel had insisted she come live with them to make sure she could