whatsoever. He loved sitting on the back deck with his guitar in his hands, and he wished he could escape these walls and find a breath of fresh air.
“There’s a road no one knows about,” he sang under his breath, though he hadn’t started writing the lyrics for this particular song yet. He’d written dozens of songs over the years, but he’d taken a break in the past couple of years since becoming foreman here on the ranch.
Now that Preacher had taken some of that load, Ward thought he’d get back to putting harmonies and melodies together. He still had the contact information of the music producers in Nashville, and he’d sold plenty of songs to them.
Only Etta and Ida knew that some of the biggest country rock, country pop, and pure country hits were written by him. No one ever scrolled to the “written by” credits in music, and a lot of the big-name artists were just singers and guitar players. They weren’t song-writers.
Ward was all of the above, but he’d learned his lesson early in his life. The Lord simply didn’t want him to be a country music star. He had the talent, but he didn’t want the lifestyle. He’d thought he had, once, but time and experience had taught Ward that some things were far more important than money and fame.
“It’s a road I walk alone,” he added, thinking he should write these words down. “I don’t know if I’ll stay on it. Maybe the Lord will take me in a different direction.”
He strummed for a few bars, thinking about Dot and why her confession had bothered him so much. He had zero control over it, that was why. He couldn’t rename himself because she’d had a bad experience with a Ward at some point in her past.
He hated the injustices in the world, and he felt like he’d been blamed for this other Ward’s actions. That so wasn’t fair, and he honestly didn’t see how Dot couldn’t see the difference between him and her ex-fiancé.
“Maybe there’s no difference,” Ward said, breaking off the music. The office echoed in the resulting silence, and Ward looked toward the window as the light coming through it brightened. His heart took hope that the sun would peek through the clouds, and he set his guitar aside to go look.
Before he arrived at the glass, the room darkened again. The flat gray light made him frown and only worsened his mood. He sat behind the computer, but he wasn’t interested in checking his email or filing any receipts for the Cowboys Provide Christmas program.
It was Christmas Day. He should’ve been out in the stables handing out carrots and sugar cubes. After that, he’d shower and head to Ace’s house, where he’d get to spend the day with his family, the people who reminded him who he was and kept him grounded.
Ward couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone all day without seeing his brothers. He pulled out his phone to check the family thread. Several people had been on this morning already, sending out happy holiday wishes. Bear had sent several photos of Lincoln and Stetson opening their gifts, and the joy on Stetson’s face reminded Ward of all the good things in the world.
The sight of those wide, wonder-filled eyes and pure joy in the child’s smile, reminded Ward of how very much he wanted a son of his own. By the time his father was Ward’s age, he’d had five children. He and Mother had gotten married very young, and both of them had told their children not to rush into marriage.
All of them had taken such advice seriously, as none of them had even started looking for a companion until they were well into their thirties. Well, maybe Etta had, but she’d had the worst time of it so far.
Ward’s fingers flew across the screen. I’d love to see everyone today, he said. Let’s video in and sing our carols together. Before lunch? After? Maybe Preacher or Charlie can set up a private video chat for us.
Before he could second-guess himself, Ward sent the message. He kept his head bent as the replies came in.
We’re in, Ace said. Great idea, Ward. Holly Ann said she’ll keep the feast for when we can get together. Can’t be too much longer.
Charlie has a ton of video stuff, Preacher said. She’s on it and will text out a link to everyone.
We’re in, Bear said.
I guess I can stand to see your