A Ballad for Her Cowboys by Luxie Ryder Page A

Fear of what he might do in front of Aiden and Seth had consumed her thoughts. Now, without the fight she readied herself for, she had nothing to do but sit and fret over whether they would turn up at all.
    A couple of hours later, Misty’s nervousness escalated to such a pitch, she barely thought straight. Her hands shook so much as she dressed for the show that she had to ask one of girls she shared a dressing room with for help with a zipper on the back of her costume.
    She turned to the mirror, taking small comfort in the fact that the outfit she would wear for them this time was one she actually liked. She smiled, remembering Aiden’s quip about Elvis impersonators and allowed herself a little moment of anticipation as she tried to imagine how the pair of them would react to seeing her now. The corset bodice in emerald green did amazing things to her eyes and complemented her pale skin. Her skintight jeans had multicolored sequins sewn down the seams that caught the light and glimmered like peacock feathers when she moved. Most nights, she curled her hair and swept it into an asymmetric chignon and allowed the ringlets to fall over one shoulder, but she didn’t want it that way when the boys saw her again. Misty knew they loved her hair down, natural, and flowing to her waist.
    What if they didn’t come?
The thought slammed through her once more. She knew she had hurt them deeply before and they may not want to forgive her a second time. Misty hadn’t been ready for what they offered back then, but now she was. The weeks spent on the road taught her that nothing meant more than their love. If she had any doubt she loved them before, she didn’t anymore. She spent too many nights missing them desperately and crying into her pillow not to be sure.
    ‘What’s wrong with you, honey?’
    She jumped at a voice behind her. Rita, one of the older members of the troupe, placed a hand on Misty’s shoulder.
    ‘Are you sad the tour is coming to an end?’
    She smiled and nodded, happy to let Rita believe whatever she wanted. The backstage intercom buzzed, and she heard them call her to the waiting area behind the stage. She went on in five minutes. Blowing out a hard breath to relieve some of the tension building in her throat that made it feel like it closed, Misty picked her guitar up from the table and made her way through the labyrinth of corridors at the back of the theater.
    ‘Come on,’ one of the crew whispered loudly, with a frantic wave meaning she should hurry. ‘Mary-Jo just cut her set short. You’re on—now!’
    A hand made contact with the small of her back and Misty found herself propelled through the stage curtain before she had time to even worry if Aiden and Seth were waiting for her. She saved them the best seats in the house, in the very front row, so it took all of ten seconds for her to see they had chosen not to come.
    The empty seats seemed to taunt her and the gap in the crowd reminded her of their absence, and how it would leave a gap in her life no one else could ever fill.
    A movement at the corner of her vision made her heart leap into her throat and she strained to see the figures approaching down one of the aisles. But it wasn’t who she hoped for, just an old couple having trouble finding their way in the darkened auditorium.
    Her eyes filled with tears, turning the faces of the crowd into a blur. Misty smiled. Years of training took over, reminding her to at least go through the motions until she got a hold of herself. By the time she’d finished the first verse of the song she always opened with, she didn’t need to hide her tears anymore. They dried up, along with any hopes she’d had, leaving her feeling nothing, but the hard lump in her chest.
    Misty watched the audience while she worked her way through the short set list. How many knew a broken heart when they heard one and could feel the sadness in her voice? Were they even listening or simply waiting for her to get her set