Chapter 27 #3
The town is absolutely buzzing. People are everywhere—locals, tourists, Sam Stone fans wearing merch from past tours. We end up parking in a hayfield that’s been converted into overflow, then hoof it into town. The heat’s sticky, the chatter is loud, and my nerves are just barely hanging on.
I point as we walk. “That’s Knot and Spur. It’s a boutique clothing store, grocery store, and bar. All in one.”
Tish squints at the rustic wooden building with its mismatched signage and string lights hanging overhead. “That is wild. Can you imagine something like that in L.A.?”
We share a laugh that feels good, even if it’s short-lived.
I gesture to a small brick building with wide windows and peeling paint. “That’s the library where we went so I could check my email.” Then I motion across the street. “And that’s Lura’s Porch. I never got a chance to eat there, but Sam said it was great.”
There’s a line out the door. Honestly, everywhere we look has a line. This concert has turned the sleepy town into something alive and bustling, like it’s been jolted with electricity.
“Where’s the concert again?” Tish asks, sipping her iced tea we got from a vendor.
“The fairgrounds, in the rodeo arena,” I reply, my heart thudding just thinking about it. “Which is fitting since Sam raises bronc mares.”
Tish grins and bumps her shoulder into mine. “Listen to you sounding like a real country girl.”
I smile, the breeze catching my hair as I look around this town that somehow still feels like a piece of me.
“I have a real good feeling about tonight,” she says, and I nod, even though the worry still coils tight in my chest.
So do I.
But I don’t voice it. Because as much hope as I have riding on tonight I know I can’t keep chasing a man who may not want to be found. And if I don’t reach him tonight? I don’t know what that will mean. But I’m scared to find out.
We arrive at the arena and find our seats in the fifth row. I frown as I glance down at the dented metal chair, its paint chipping and legs uneven.
Tish leans in with a hopeful smile. “Maybe this’ll work out. Maybe being further back means he’ll be able to see you better. The lights won’t be as blinding from this angle.”
I nod, even though hope feels thin in my chest.
But God must be in one of his moods because the moment Sam steps on stage, the sky cracks open like a broken heart and the rain comes pouring down.
The fans? They go wild. Nobody moves. Nobody leaves. Sam doesn't even flinch. He just stomps through the puddles forming on stage like a man possessed, belting out every lyric with raw, blistering emotion. Each note hits me like a tidal wave, because every single song is about me.
But I know he can’t see me. Because I can barely see him. The rain, the lights, the distance. It’s too much.
As the final chords of one song echo into the wet night, Tish tugs my hand.
“Come on,” she whispers. “If we leave now, we might be the first ones there.”
We slip away from the crowd, weaving through people still crying, clapping, and clinging to the moment. Outside, we find the stage door and, thank the heavens, there's only one security guard posted nearby.
“Evening, ladies,” he says, tipping his head beneath the brim of his hat.
Tish flashes him a charming smile. “Good evening. Would it be okay if we waited here? My friend is hoping to see Sam.”
He grins. “Sam’s a good guy. We went to school together, actually.”
“So, is it alright if we hang out here?” I ask, trying not to sound too desperate.
He nods. “Sure is. Might be a bit, though. Lots of folks here to see him tonight.”
People filter out, some stopping near us. A few more hopeful fans gather under the narrow overhang.
One woman, wearing a shirt with Sam’s face on it and way too much perfume, laughs loudly and says, “I plan on taking Sam Stone home with me tonight. ”
Tish and I shoot daggers her way in unison.
We wait. The rain doesn’t stop. It only gets colder, turning from a summer storm into something almost wintry. My teeth chatter, and every breath leaves a small puff of white in the air. I wrap my arms around my middle not just to keep warm, but to protect what I’m carrying.
“Babe,” Tish murmurs, voice tight with concern. “This can’t be good for you or for the baby.”
Just then, the door creaks open and a small group of people step out, laughing and talking.
“Liam!” I call, louder than I mean to.
He turns, brows raised in stunned surprise. “Charlie?”
He says something to the group, then crosses over to us, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. His face is a mix of curiosity and confusion.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to find Sam,” I say, pushing wet hair out of my eyes. “Is he… is he about to come out?”
He winces. “Sorry. He left right after the last song. Took the south exit. Most people don’t even know it exists. My guess? He’s already halfway to the airport.”
It’s like the bottom drops out of me. My knees go weak and my chest aches. The rain on my cheeks mixes with something hotter. Saltier.
“Oh,” I whisper. “I see.”
He hesitates. “I have to ask. Why are you here? Why did you leave him?”
“Because Phern told me to,” I say, voice flat.
Liam’s whole face changes. “Phern? But she said?—”
“Whatever she said is a lie,” Tish cuts in, her words sharp. “She ran Charlotte off while Sam was in Nashville.”
“Please, Liam,” I say, desperate now. “I need to talk to him. It’s important. ”
Liam exhales and digs into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He dials, holding it to his ear while I squeeze Tish’s hand like a lifeline.
No answer.
“Went to voicemail,” Liam mutters. “I can try Phern. Maybe we can figure out?—”
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “Don’t bother. She made her opinion of me pretty damn clear.” My voice cracks. “And Sam did too, if I’m being honest. He never replied to any of my letters.”
“Letters?” Liam repeats, confused.
But I can’t keep talking. I’m soaked through. Exhausted. Shivering. The weight of months without him, of chasing someone who might never want to be found… it’s crushing.
I turn to Tish. “Let’s go.”
“Charlie—” Liam starts, but I’m already walking.
I don’t look back. I can’t. The tears are falling faster than the rain now, and I honestly don’t know which is colder.
But I do know this. I’ve never felt so alone.