Shoe In The Road Stories
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About this ebook
It peaks my imagination how a single shoe often winds up lying by the side of the road. I wonder about the shoe’s owner and why both shoes aren’t there. I ponder about the owner's life and circumstance. After years of observing this, I began to make up stories about how the shoe got there and about its owner. In this book, I’m sharing some of those stories for the first time with you.
Patricia Bushman
I have been writing since I was a young child. I have diverse interests, so my books tend to cover a lot of genres. I began writing for my own satisfaction, but eventually decided I wanted to share my work. Watch for more books on Smashwords and in print at Wordclay in the near future. I live in Huntington Beach, California and have many hobbies, including softball, which I have played since I was very young.
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Shoe In The Road Stories - Patricia Bushman
Shoe In The Road Stories
Copyright 2010 by Patricia Bushman
Smashwords Edition
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Author’s Note
I’ve always been fascinated by the phenomenon that I tagged ‘shoe in the road’. We all see it no matter where we live. It peaks my writer’s imagination to consider how it happens so often that a single shoe winds up lying by the side of the road. I wonder about the person who owned the shoe. I ponder why both shoes that made up the pair aren’t there. I speculate about the owner’s life and situation. I imagine what he or she will say when it’s discovered that one shoe has gone missing. What will his or her reaction be? Will it be no big deal or will it be a major inconvenience or expense? There are so many possibilities! After years of observing these ‘shoes in the road’ I began to make up stories about how each came to be there and about the shoe’s owner. In this book, I’m sharing some of those stories for the first time with you. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
Shoe In The Road Stories
By Patricia Bushman
Chapter One
Cowboy Boot In The Road
Stanley Cooper steered his old Harley into Nashville, his canvas tote bag, guitar, and sleeping bag strapped to the back of the bike. He was exhausted. It had taken him six days to ride from Lubbock to Nashville. He was just about out of money and needed to find work fast if he was going to eat. But work and eating would both have to wait. He needed to sleep.
He had spent the last five nights on the hard ground at rest stops or hidden among the trees along the highway. Sleep didn’t exactly describe the tossing and turning he’d done, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground with just his sleeping bag between him and dirt. He was a Texas boy and it wasn’t the first time he’d slept outside, but it was the first time since he was about twelve.
He was twenty four now, here in the country music capital of the world, and he could hardly wait to get started. He had a notebook full of his songs and new guitar strings. He was ready to take on Nashville. After he got some sleep.
He spotted a motel that looked seedy enough for him to afford and steered into the parking lot. In less than ten minutes he had the room key and rode his bike around to the room. He unlashed his tote bag, sleeping bag, and guitar and balanced them under his left arm while he opened the door.
The place was ten degrees below seedy, but he didn’t care. It had a bed and a shower and he badly needed both. He set his things on the floor and began pulling off his shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed and tugged off first one, then the other boot. He unbuttoned and slipped out of his jeans.
The shower felt so good on his tired and sweaty body that he stood under the spray for ten minutes before he twisted open the tiny shampoo bottle and lathered up his hair. There was no soap in the shower so he used the rest of the shampoo to wash his body.
As he dried himself on the thin towel, he caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. He was sunburned across his face and neck, and a heavy stubble covered his cheeks and chin. He didn’t have the energy to shave now. It’d have to wait until he woke up.
He walked to the bed and pulled back the covers. Without a stitch of clothing on his lean body, he stretched across the lumpy mattress and slept for ten hours until the motel cleaning crew started pounding on the door.
***************
Coop had a plan and he set out to put it into motion. He had paid for a week at the motel and left his things there, except for his guitar. He needed it to start earning some money.
He had done it plenty of times before in Dallas and Houston. He picked out a corner, pulled his guitar out of its case, tossed his Stetson on the ground, and began strumming and singing the first song that came into his head. Willie Nelson’s ‘On the road again’.
For half an hour passersby smiled and kept walking, but he knew it’d take some time. Finally a tall, lean man, dressed much as Coop was, tossed in a five, but said, You’re good, son, but you’re no Willie Nelson.
Stanley didn’t take offense. He’d heard it all before.
After two hours he had thirty dollars in his hat. Not a bad take, but he’d keep it up for another hour to make up part of what he’d spent on the room.
He moved on to George Strait and followed that with Randy Travis, strumming and singing with an ease of body and voice. He liked the old school guys. That was country music as far as he was concerned, not the cross over fluff they played on the radio nowadays.
In the last half hour he moved to his own songs and began with ‘Riding on the Range’. That always netted him a few more bucks and this time was no exception.
As he finished the song and began the next, he noticed a tall and slender blond woman watching him intently from across the street. He didn’t know how long she’d been there watching and listening, but he noticed her foot was tapping to the beat of ‘Wild Horse’.
She was a looker and he smiled as he faced her and sang ‘Old Dog Ben’. She smiled back at him and he quickly finished the song, pulled the bills out of his hat, and pushed it onto his head. He grabbed the case and shoved the guitar in before he crossed the street.
He walked to where she stood and said, Howdy, ma’am. My name’s Coop.
He stuck out his hand and she took it. She had a firm handshake. He liked that.
I’m Kate. I was just standing her enjoying your music. You’re not half bad.
That’s better that what the last fellow said to me.
He laughed. He said I was no Willie Nelson.
This time she laughed and he liked the sound of it. He leaped to the next step. His daddy always said Coop had a way with the ladies, but the ladies needed to beware. Coop flashed his hundred dollar smile.
Kate, would you like to have a cup of coffee with me? I’m buying.
The woman hesitated for several seconds, then said, Sure, why not. I’ve got a little time to spare.
***************
Two hours later Coop and Kate were still sitting in the Corner Cafe. Neither could drink any more coffee, and they had already shared a slice of apple pie.
I really should get going, Coop, but you’re the most interesting man and I’m having trouble giving up this moment. And I love that Texas draw!
Cooper smiled at her and reached across the table to take her hand in his. Then don’t go. Let’s spend the rest of the day together. By then we’ll both know what’s what and decide if we should just live together or get married.
Kate laughed a melodious, throaty sound that pleased Coop’s musician soul. He smiled at her again and on impulse leaned across the table and touched his lips to hers. When he straightened, Kate had an odd expression.
What?
he asked.
I don’t know. I just got a shiver, that’s all.
You’re not getting sick are you?
Coop asked. His concern was sincere.
No, I’m fine. Really. And yes, let’s do spend some time together. I know just the place.
And where would that be?
Coop asked.
My daddy’s ranch. It’s about five miles out of town.
Kate watched his face closely for his reaction. He looked like he didn’t have a dime, but hadn’t blinked at her comment. Good, she thought.
It’s a deal. But I get to drive.
Coop said.
He rose and again took her hand and led her out of the restaurant. They walked the two blocks to where he had parked his Harley.
I thought you said drive.
Kate laughed.
Same thing, only this is more fun.
He climbed on the bike and patted the seat behind him. Kate scooted on and Coop revved up the engine. Within minutes they were headed out of town, stopping only long enough to drop his guitar off in his motel room.
When they had driven for a few minutes Kate tapped his shoulder and pointed to the right. He took the turn and Kate leaned into the curve. She directed him down a tree lined road toward a white ranch house set prettily among towering oak trees.
Coop parked the motorcycle and shut off the engine. Kate climbed off and Coop followed her as she led him into the house. He admired the fenced pastures that extended from the west side of the veranda for as far as he could see. Horses in various shades of brown and black trotted about in the enclosure.
Kate walked into the kitchen and pulled two beers out of the refrigerator, then motioned for Cooper to follow her. She led him into the great room that was decorated with sturdy leather furniture and a massive fireplace.
Kate settled onto the sofa and patted a spot beside her for him to sit. He slid next to her and removed his hat. He tossed it onto the chair to his left. She handed him one of the beers and he snapped it open.
So, Stanley Cooper, tell me everything any woman would want to know about you. Don’t leave out a thing.
Well,
Coop began, Once I got out of prison I decided to come on over her to Nashville and try my hand at selling some of my songs and getting myself a recording contract.
Kate giggled, then looked at him suspiciously. I know you’re kidding, but you said that with such a straight face I had to consider a minute whether it was true.
All true,
Coop said seriously, and watched her face pale. Then he laughed and reached for her hand. Really scared you, huh? You thought you’d brought a thief or an axe murderer into your home.
Kate slapped his hand away and turned a pouty face to him. A face that needed kissing, Coop thought. He obliged.
Kate felt the fire begin in her cheeks and move down to her heart. She pushed her fingers through his shoulder length hair and answered his intensity.
After a while they drew apart and both sat back to take stock of what had just happened. No one had ever had this effect on her and Kate struggled to find her balance. Coop just seemed stunned, like the time he had been kicked in the head by a horse.
Maybe we should try that again. In a while, I mean. After my heart slows down about a hundred beats,
Coop said.
Kate smiled weakly and finally took his hand in hers and brushed it across her cheek. She knew she was in trouble with him like no one ever before. How could this have sneaked up on her so quickly, she wondered? They’d just met hours before.
Coop felt his heart flip flop when he looked into those big brown eyes. This had definitely not been part of his plan. Sure, she was a pretty girl. Great body. Perfect smile. Smart. Friendly. And sexy as hell. But he had just been looking for a little fun. He hadn’t expected this punch to his gut.
He took a mental step back, but her eyes quickly reeled him back in and he knew he was lost. He could almost feel the hook in his mouth as she just sat there smiling at him.
She laughed. She placed her lips on his and kissed him again. He was done. She owned him.
Finally she pulled away. The moment passed, but each of them still seemed a little stunned. Coop’s eyes had a glazed and confused look.
Kate spoke first, trying to remain casual. Would you like to take a ride before you head back to town? I’ll get Jimmy to saddle up for us if you do.
That’d be good,
Coop said. I’ve been missing horses and I’d like to ride something besides the Harley. I think the seat is imprinted on my butt.
Kate laughed. "Does your family