and Corbin were setting up. Put my water on a table nearby and got out my guitar. Corbin looked past me a few times, like he was watching the door.
“You waiting for someone?” I asked, lifting the guitar strap over my shoulder.
“Me? No,” he said. “I just thought you might have brought…”
“I might have brought what?”
He shut his mouth and shrugged. “Never mind.”
As predicted, the rumor mill had been churning. After Millie had stopped by with brownies, Sallie Mae Brickman had brought over a loaf of fresh bread, followed closely by Tanya Varney with a bag of pepperoni rolls. She’d claimed she had extra, and why not go see if Gibson Bodine could use a hot meal?
I knew their game. No one brought me food. Most people stayed away from my place, if they knew what was good for them. Seemed the allure of my supposed secret girlfriend was enough to make people brave.
That was going to become a problem real quick. Now that Bootleg smelled a juicy story, they wouldn’t leave me alone until they got to the bottom of it.
“That’s not what I heard,” someone said behind me. Sounded like Moe Daily. “I heard he rescued her out on the lake and carried her all the way back to his place. She’s there recovering now.”
What the… were they talking about me?
“Why would he carry her? He has a truck.” That was Randy Jenkins.
“I don’t know, that’s just what someone was saying over at Build-A-Shine earlier.”
“There ain’t a lick of truth to that,” Randy said. “I heard from a very reliable source that he got himself a mail-order bride.”
“No shit?”
“Swear on my Granny Patsy’s grave, god rest her soul.”
“May she rest in peace. How does that even work?” Moe asked.
“Well, I don’t know how Gibson did it,” Randy said. “But my great-uncle Earl got a mail-order bride back in the day. He and my great-aunt were married forty-odd years ’fore he passed, god rest his soul.”
“May he rest in peace. Ain’t that something.”
Mail-order bride? Where in the hell had he gotten that idea? I was about to turn around and set them straight, but Hung interrupted.
“Ready, Gibs?”
I scowled over my shoulder. Sometimes the men in this town were as big of gossips as the women. “Fine, yeah.”
We started in on our set, but something was off. My guitar was in tune, and Hung and Corbin played well, as usual. It wasn’t the music. Our songs felt right.
It was the crowd.
They were watching me, but not the way they normally watched us when we played. People leaned in to talk to each other, their conversations animated, their eyes focused on me.
Who else thought I’d brought home a mail-order bride? What other stories were circulating around town?
Scarlett sat with Devlin, Cassidy, and Bowie at a table off to the side. Three of them were having a good laugh about something, but not Scarlett. Nope. Her eyes were on me. Scrutinizing. What was that girl thinking?
We played some more songs, but my heart wasn’t in it. I kept thinking about Callie. Was she still at my place? Had she decided to run again? Would someone recognize her if they caught a glimpse?
I didn’t think so. If she came out and said she was Callie Kendall, I reckoned people would believe her eventually. But she looked different enough, she could get away with pretending to be someone else. I’d barely recognized her. Thought I was crazy until she’d showed up on my doorstep. People wouldn’t know.
Problem was, my oh-so-neighborly neighbors were gonna keep trying to find out the truth about who was staying at my place.
And if Scarlett was involved, she’d play dirty.
Our last song ended—finally—and I put my guitar away. Downed the rest of my water. I glanced over and Scarlett was glaring at me. She raised her eyebrows and curled her finger, motioning for me to come to her table.
Ah, hell.
I left my guitar behind the stage and went to the table she shared with Devlin, Cassidy, and Bow.
“Hey Gibs,” Cassidy said, giving me what she probably thought was a subtle wink. “How’d that lavender shampoo and conditioner work out for you?”
I groaned. I already hated this conversation.
“Gibson Bodine, I’m ashamed of you,” Scarlett said.
“What the hell did I do now?”
“How could you leave that girl all alone while you go out to a bar?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” She hopped off her stool and poked me in the chest. “I know she was there