Nashville 1 - Ready to Reach Read Online Free Page A

yells.
    I’m so relieved I literally wilt onto the rail, and send up a prayer of thanks. Hank Junior and I wait while they climb up. Holden appears first, looking as battered as his case. Thomas is right behind him. As soon as they reach the top, they both drop down on the ground, breathing heavily.
    “Man,” Thomas says. “What I wouldn’t give for the chance to beat their tails!”
    They gulp air for several seconds before Holden fumbles with the latches on the case and pops it open. Thomas points his flashlight at the interior, and my heart drops.
    “Well, that’s not good,” Thomas says, his big Georgia voice dropping the words like boulders.
    Holden picks up the guitar. It hangs limp and useless, broken in three places. He holds it the way a little boy would hold a baseball glove that got chewed up by the lawn mower. His expression is all but grief-stricken.
    “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”
    “It wasn’t your fault,” Thomas consoles.
    “Then whose fault is it?” Holden snaps, his blue gaze lasering me with accusation.
    “Those two butt-wipes who stole it,” Thomas says tightly.
    “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t insisted on stopping to help her!”
    “Man, what’s wrong with you? Her car was on fire. Chivalry ain’t that dead.”
    Holden hesitates, clearly wrestling with a different opinion. “We didn’t have to give her a ride to Nashville.”
    “No, we didn’t,” Thomas agrees. “But that ain’t who we are.”
    I stand and dust off my skirt. I walk to the truck, Hank Junior trailing behind me. I climb up on the back tire, reach for my guitar and return to where the two of them are still sitting. I pull out my own lyric notebook and the flash drive that contains the only two song demos I’ve been able to afford to have made. I stick that in my pocket, close the case and hand it to Holden.
    “You take mine,” I say. “I know it won’t replace yours, but maybe it’ll work temporarily. Y’all have been real nice to me. I’m not gonna ask any more of you. Thanks a lot for everything.”
    And with that, Hank Junior and I start walking.

CHAPTER TWO
Holden
    I don’t want to stop her.
    I mean, what the hell? You don’t need to be a friggin’ genius to see the girl’s nothing but trouble.
    “You just gonna let her walk off into the night?” Thomas asks, looking at me like I just destroyed every illusion he ever had about me.
    “If she wants to go, who are we to stop her?”
    “You know dang well she thinks, knows, you don’t want her riding with us.”
    “Do we really need another card stacked against us? She’s a walking disaster!”
    Thomas throws a glance up the highway. “Yeah, right now she is.”
    “See. You’re already trying to figure out how to fix things for her. Every time you find somebody that needs fixing, we come out on the losing end of the deal.”
    “If you’re talkin’ about Sarah, that’s your doin’, man. All I ever agreed to do with her was sing. You’re the one who got involved with her. Nobody made you do that but you.”
    I’d like to tell him to piss off, as a matter of fact. Except that he’s right.
    I get to my feet, slap the dirt from my jeans and yank up both cases, one containing my broken Martin, the other holding the piece of crap CeCe MacKenzie probably bought at Wal-Mart.
    “You keeping the guitar?” Thomas calls from behind me.
    “I’ll toss it out the window when we pass her,” I say.
    “Oh, that’s mature.”
    I put both the guitars in the back, giving lie to what I just said. I climb in the truck and slam the door. Thomas floors it, merging into the oncoming traffic.
    Thomas hunches over the steering wheel, looking for her. I’m starting to wonder if, hope, she’s hitched another ride when I spot her up ahead, her skirt flouncing left to right as she walks, that ridiculous floppy-eared hound trotting along beside her.
    “Well?” Thomas throws out.
    “Pull the hell over,” I say.
    He looks