Джеймс Паттерсон - Texas Outlaw

I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. I told myself on the drive that I just want to see her perform, that I’m here to support a friend. But I think the truth is I’m just not ready to go home yet.

Willow will be the first opening act. After her, Brandi Carlile will play a set. And then the headliner, Dierks Bentley.

Willow has her work cut out for her. As the first act, when she comes onstage, people are still filing into the stadium. Half the people aren’t paying attention. But she doesn’t let this stop her. She struts out onstage as if she’s played to crowds this big a million times. From where I sit, she looks no bigger than one of the action figures my nephew, Beau, plays with. But even this far away, her stage presence is unmistakable.

She gets the crowd’s attention right away by playing a Shania Twain song and following it up with one by Taylor Swift. Her band is fantastic, and I know I’m biased, but I think her renditions are just as good as the originals.

Maybe better.

After she plays the cover songs everyone is familiar with, the crowd is hooked, and she segues into some of her own songs. No one in the audience has ever heard them before, but everyone—in the chairs up front and at the back of the lawn—is standing up, moving to the rhythm of the songs. People clap their hands and, once they get the hook of the chorus, try to sing along. As Willow prances around onstage, the sun sets behind her, casting a beautiful reddish glow over the hills.

I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I can’t express how proud I am of Willow.

How impressed.

It’s just a matter of time before she’s the one headlining shows like this.

Toward the end of the set, Willow says to the crowd, “Have y’all heard my song ‘Don’t Date a Texas Ranger’ on the radio?”

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause.

“You know I was dating a real Texas Ranger, right?”

Again, roars of approval.

“I’ve got some sad news,” Willow tells the crowd. “We broke up.”

The audience gives a collective “Oh” of surprise and dismay. Willow tells the audience that in real life her ex is a terrific guy. She only wrote the song for fun, and her boyfriend had been very supportive of her releasing it.

“He knew it was going to be my first hit,” she says.

As she’s talking, her band discreetly leaves the stage. A roadie carries out a wooden chair and sets it in the center of the stage. Then another brings out an acoustic guitar and hands it to Willow.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, sitting on the chair with the guitar across her lap, “but I’m going to do the song a little differently tonight.”

With that, she starts to pick the strings. It’s the same song, only much slower. The version of the song playing on the radio is a fast-paced boot stomper. This version is slow and melancholic. The lyrics, when performed this way, are more haunting.

She sounds heartbroken.

Tears spring to my eyes.

The audience loves the performance. People in the crowd hold lighters and cell phones in the air, illuminating the darkness. The only light onstage is a single spotlight on Willow.

She sings the lyrics exactly as I’ve heard them before, but when she gets to the last chorus, she changes them, saying in an almost conversational voice,

Take it from me, ladies,

I should know.

If you ever have the chance,

You should definitely date a Texas Ranger.

The crowd goes wild, laughing and clapping, as Willow strums the last notes of the song. She stands, bows, blows a kiss to the crowd. And she walks offstage.

I applaud like a madman. Tears stream down my cheeks.

That’s my girl, I think.

That was my girl.

As the stagehands are setting up for Brandi Carlile, I walk down through the crowd and find a security guard standing in front of a backstage door.

I ask him if there’s any way he can give the jersey to Willow.

“Are you that Ranger she was singing about?” the guy asks. “I seen you on TV. Man, you’re a freaking hero. Mad respect to you, my friend.”

He offers to take me backstage to see Willow, and I consider it for a moment. But I’m afraid what might happen. Seeing her onstage—seeing what a star she’s going to be—I know I need to let her go. Dating me is only going to hold her back from her dreams.

“Just make sure she gets the shirt,” I say, handing over the jersey she inadvertently left at the hospital. “She’ll know who it’s from.”

I push through the crowd as Brandi Carlile begins to play. I consider staying for her set and Dierks Bentley’s. I’m sure they’re great. But I’m emotionally drained.

I climb into my truck and head off into the darkness.

I drive through Albuquerque and travel east for a while, but I suddenly get an urge, and I decide to turn off the highway. I find a dirt road that stretches into the hills, and I park somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I sit on the tailgate and look up at the stars. I take out the guitar Willow gave me and pluck at the strings.

I play “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” singing about how cowboys are never at home and they’re always alone. But as I play under the canopy of stars, without another soul around for miles, I don’t feel sad about being alone, starting over on my own.

I’m alive—that almost wasn’t the case.

And I can’t help but feel that Willow or Ariana—or maybe both of them—will be a part of my life again someday.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to Captain Kip Westmoreland of the Texas Rangers.

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About the Authors

James Pattersonis the world’s bestselling author and most trusted storyteller. He has created many enduring fictional characters and series, including Alex Cross, the Women’s Murder Club, Michael Bennett, Maximum Ride, Middle School, and I Funny. Among his notable literary collaborations are The President Is Missing, with President Bill Clinton, and the Max Einstein series, produced in partnership with the Albert Einstein Estate. Patterson’s writing career is characterized by a single mission: to prove that there is no such thing as a person who “doesn’t like to read,” only people who haven’t found the right book. He’s given over three million books to schoolkids and the military, donated more than seventy million dollars to support education, and endowed over five thousand college scholarships for teachers. The National Book Foundation presented Patterson with the Literarian Award for Outstanding Service to the American Literary Community, and he is also the recipient of an Edgar Award and six Emmy Awards. He lives in Florida with his family.

Andrew Bourelleis the author of the novel Heavy Metal and coauthor with James Patterson of Texas Ranger. His short stories have been published widely in literary magazines and fiction anthologies, including The Best American Mystery Stories.

Books by James Patterson

Featuring Rory Yates

Texas Ranger

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The House of Kennedy

The 20th Victim

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