Coming Home to Paradise (Sisters in Paradise #3)

Chapter 21

“Turn out the lights; the party’s over,” Bo muttered as she walked Maverick out to his truck after the party that evening.

“You sang that on the stage at Whiskey Bent,” he said with a smile.

“And you played the piano. Our band was good while it lasted, but alas, all things must come to an end eventually.” She hated that old adage, but it was the absolute truth that evening.

“They don’t have to, but in some cases, they do,” he argued. “You can still come with me, Bo, and our Whiskey Bent Band can live on and on throughout the ages and adventures.”

“I could, and we might be happy for a while, but my heart tells me I would have regrets eventually.” She looked up at the stars in the sky and blinked away the tears. “I hate goodbyes.”

He opened his arms. “Me too. I don’t want to leave you, but my heart tells me it’s time to go.”

She walked into them, closed her eyes, and laid her cheek against his chest. “Let’s don’t say goodbye. Let’s just say, ‘See you later, and if you ever get an itch to come back to this area, call me.’” She had a lump in her throat but knew fully well they were simply trying to avoid facing the end.

Maverick brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “See you later.”

“Maybe.” Bo turned and walked away before he could say anything more. She didn’t look back but went straight to the barn and slipped inside through the side door. She sat down on an old ladder-back chair, buried her head in her hands, and let the tears flow freely. Saying goodbye or even see you later was tougher than admitting that her dream of being a big Nashville star was dead in the water. When there were no more tears, she scolded herself for acting like a lovestruck teenager who had just broken up with her boyfriend. Maverick had been a flirtation that ended in a one-night stand. He was gone, and it was time she moved on to the next phase in her life—whatever that might be.

She remembered a meme she had seen on TikTok that said: “When in doubt, look up.” She raised her eyes and stared out a dirty window. The stars were nothing but smeary little things up in the dark sky. The waxing moon didn’t give much light, but there was a tiny sliver around one edge.

The light represents the memories I made with him, she thought. If I was still in Nashville and trying to write songs…

Before she could finish that thought, the words to “Goodbye Time,” a Conway Twitty song that Blake Shelton covered, came to her mind. The lyrics said that if being free was worth what a person left behind, then it was goodbye time.

“No sense in writing that song,” she said. “It’s already been written, and now I’m feeling what those words meant.”

It ain’t over ‘til it’s over. Endora’s words came back to her mind.

She was still sitting there, still staring out the window and replaying every single moment—all the bantering, the flirting, and even the goodbyes that she and Maverick had shared. She slipped her phone out of her hip pocket and looked up the word maverick . One of the definitions described an independent person who did not go along with everyone else. Then she noticed the time: four thirty in the morning. She had sat in that chair for hours.

“His nana named him right,” she said as she stood up and stretched the kinks out of her body. “But I’ve grabbed the bull by the horns, spit in his eye, and I’m still alive,” she told herself.

The sun was nothing more than the promise of a nice day as it cast the first rays of light over north central Texas. Bo didn’t really care early that morning if there was sun, snow, or even a thunderstorm. Life would go on, and she would get over the pain, just like she and Rae did the chicken pox when they were kids. She had made it to the back porch when she heard a vehicle coming down the lane. Her heart skipped a beat. The sound was definitely a truck, and for that solitary moment she thought perhaps Maverick had changed his mind.

Her hopes were dashed when Gunner and Rae got out of it. Rae was still wearing her party dress. It didn’t take the intelligence of a rocket scientist to know that it didn’t take all night to drive fifty miles and back, or to figure out that she and Gunner were most likely a couple now—especially when he walked her up to the door and kissed her good night.

“Hey,” Bo called out when Rae reached the back porch. “Are you sneaking in?”

Rae stopped and smiled. “Looks like you are doing the same thing.”

“Yes, but from that grin on your face, it looks like you didn’t spend the time sitting in a straight-back chair, wallowing in memories and misery.”

Rae sat down on the swing and patted the place next to her. “I’m sorry, Sister. What happened?”

“Maverick is probably on his way to Wyoming right now,” Bo answered with a long sigh. “My mind says for me to pack a bag and go with him. My heart says that’s the wrong thing to do.”

“Which wolf are you feeding?” Rae asked.

Bo remembered Joe Clay telling them the story about the two wolves. One was mean and hateful and very ugly. The other one was a sweet wolf, kind to others and loved to romp and play. One had to die, but one could live. The one that a person fed was the one that would survive, and each sister had to choose which one they would feed.

“The one that controls my heart, but it wasn’t easy,” Bo answered.

“Gunner and I are officially in a relationship that goes beyond being a babysitter. I’m glad that I didn’t have to make the decision that you did,” Rae said.

“Do you know what life is?” Bo asked and went on before Rae could answer. “It’s a four-letter word, and you know what happened when we used that kind of language when we were kids.”

“Yes, I do, but, darlin’, so is love, and I have fallen in love with Gunner,” Rae told her.

“I’m glad for you, but I’m jealous as hell too,” Bo said.

Rae shot a smile her way. “I understand, and I won’t even tattle on you for saying that particular cuss word.”

“I’m happy you had a good night with Gunner while I licked my wounds. Did I do the right thing, Rae?” Bo asked. “I’ve still got time to pack a bag and go with him.”

“What does your heart tell you?” Rae asked.

“That I came home to put down roots. I gave up my dream to be here. I should not be gallivanting off to Wyoming with a man that I’ve only known a few weeks. But, Sister, I hate it when you are right, and even more so when Aunt Bernie is,” Bo whined.

Rae nodded. “I understand, but rest assured, she won’t be strutting around like a little banty rooster because she was right about Maverick. She is still going to pitch a fit over Gunner. I’m not even going to try to keep our relationship a secret. She can just deal with it.”

“Maybe her winning the battle and being right with me and Maverick will help soothe her temper. Besides, she gets two little great nieces who love and adore her in your deal,” Bo said. “Let’s go inside, get out of these dresses, and make some breakfast. Life—even if it is a four-letter word—goes on. But I mean it when I say that I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. Will you take up for me when Aunt Bernie pitches her fit?”

“Always,” Bo promised.