Chapter 1

Channel 69 is proud to present...THE SAVING OF JON BON JOVI.

Ladies. How many of us would have given ANYTHING to be the one to be there when Jon and the band were on a 'break'. This story is just that supposition. Jon comes into your life, his soul hurt and bruised, wild as the wind.

Please keep in mind that this story is all fantasy and imagination on the part of your fantasy princess.

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There he was, Jon Bon Jovi, rock star extraordinaire, standing here in the middle of nowhere. Slightly turning, he watched the taxi speed off down the road. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the long dark blond strands, and letting out a big sigh. He was so tired, burnt out, mad and frustrated that he could hardly move. They had been on the road for so long, he had forgotten what solid ground felt like. Now they had all gone their separate ways. He thought back to the sign he had read on the way in. It had said "Hopeful Farm”. He certainly didn’t feel very hopeful.

His grandfather bred race horses and had said to come stay with him. It was quiet on the farm and no one would bother him. His grandfather said that he would be out of town, so Jon would have the place to himself. It was a huge place. A few people were here though. He knew there was at least a housekeeper because she had shown him to a private wing of the house.

Jon had picked up the lone bag he had brought with him and walked slowly up to the front door of the house. He knocked.

A tiny woman answered the door. Her slightly graying red hair was escaping her bun.

“Hello?” She said, as she opened the door, her Irish brogue as strong as a mug of Guiness. When she fully opened the door, she looked up at him. She barely made it to his chest. “Ah, Mr Bon Jovi. You are finally here. We have been expecting you.” She moved to the side so he could come through the door. “My name is Maggie. Tired ye are, I’m sure. Let me show you to your room.” Continuing the one sided conversation, she said, "I know. I get that look all the time, but don't let my short stature fool you. I'm short on the outside, tall on the inside."

“Maggie. Just call me Jon,” he said, as an afterthought, following this tiny, overly cheerful woman.

Upon reaching a suite of rooms, she opened a door and stepped in, looking around to make sure everything looked perfect.

“Mr Bon Jovi. Jon. Here ye are. This room has it’s own fully equipped bathroom. And through those doors is a living room with TV and a variety of electronics.”

With very little enthusiasm, Jon replied, “Thank you Maggie. I’m sure it will be very nice.”

“Alright then. I’ll be going. If you need anything, holler.” And just that quick, she was gone.

Jon had been roaming the house for hours now, trying to unwind, having just come off their last tour. It was about four in the morning and he had made his way back to his room, having found a bottle of something in his grandfather’s study and had drank about half of it. With his mind finally slowing down, he laid down and passed out.

Since the main house was far enough away from the barns, he didn't hear any of the day's noise and goings on. Megan came up to the house to see what Maggie was making for dinner. She was starved, not having eaten since early this morning.

"Maggie," she yelled coming through the mud room at the back of the main house, changing out of her boots and into some slip-ons. "What's for dinner. I'm hungry." Megan fiddled with her shoulder length hair, but nothing was going to make it any tidier than it was.

Maggie, coming through the double swinging doors at the other end of the kitchen, said, "Hush or you'll be waking Himself." Megan thought Maggie's brogue was getting stronger and her hair a little grayer, but no matter, she was her best friend and an amazing cook. Walking over to the stove to stir whatever was in the pot, she grumbled, "You'll be having stew."

Meggie walked up to sniff the smells coming from the pot. "HHhhhmmm. Smells good as always, Maggie," she said. Then catching Maggie's gaze, "So he's here?" she whispered, somewhat breathlessly.

"Aye,” she said quietly. She looked around, then whispered, “And never a more lost soul will ye ever see.”

Megan walked over to the table, thinking about Jon. Gramps had said his grandson had become famous. She had met him once when they were kids, had even developed a small crush at the beginning, but as she got older, hadn't really thought about him. Too busy, she guessed. Oh well, Megan sat and ate her dinner. Between bites, she chatted with Maggie. "I am going to take Jonboy out after I eat, for our one on one."

"OK. How are things down at the big barn?"

"Good. It should be a quiet night. No mares due to foal, so I may actually get some sleep." I got up, rinsed my dishes, and gave Maggie a hug.

"Now you and that horse be careful," Maggie admonished.

"We will, Maggie. We are just going to the meadow," I said lightly, everything else already forgotten, as I made my way to Jonboy’s enclosure.

Jon woke up, still tired, eyes gritty. There was a clock next to the bed that said 4pm. Wow. He had slept 12 hours, but felt like he could use another three days. Now would be the time he would start getting up for a show, so he got up took a shower, dressed and went downstairs. Following his nose and stomach, Jon managed to find the kitchen. Passing through a set of double doors from the dining room, he walked into a huge beautiful kitchen. Jon guessed it would have to be big, my grandfather loved food. There was a woman puttering around the kitchen, cleaning.

Maggie looked up and said, "Mr. Bon Jovi. It's good to see you up. Are you finding everything OK? Is there anything I can get you?"

"Maggie? Right?" he asked walking slowly towards a large kitchen dining table.

"Yes sir."

"Maggie, please, no sir, just Jon."

"Alright Jon. Sit. Let me get you something to eat."

Jon sat down and Maggie set a bowl of stew in front of him with some cornbread and milk. 

"Everything OK Jon? If you don't like the stew I can get you something else?" Maggie asked.

Jon just stared at the food, hungry, yet all he really wanted was a bottle of something stronger than milk, replied, "No. It's fine. I just can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal."  Jon forced himself to eat something without throwing up.

Maggie moved around the kitchen keeping an eye on Jon. That boy looked in bad shape. Mr B said Jon was here to rest and re cooperate, but she thought he needed something to do to get his mind off his troubles and the matchmaker in her thought Megan would be good for him. Tired of watching him pick at his food, Maggie handed him a couple of carrots and a cup of coffee and said, "Jon? Can you take these to Megan? I forgot to give these to her earlier." She thought for a second he was going to refuse, like it was beneath his rock star status, but he must have been too tired to argue. She saw his eye were bloodshot, and suspected he had been drinking.

Jon stood up. "Thank you for the food," he said.

"You're welcome Jon. Now if you go out the back door. you'll see a path straight ahead. Follow that and it will take you to Megan," Maggie said.

Jon looked at the coffee. At least it was stronger than milk. Standing up he looked at Maggie, who was looking at him, with eyebrow raised, daring him to refuse. He wondered if she could read his mind. Well, maybe the clean air and a walk will help. He didn't even know who this Megan person was. The path turned out to be a well maintained dirt road, with huge tall trees on either side, making a canopy that went along the whole road, making his walk shady and cool. After a good 10 minutes, he came to the end of the lane. It looked like the path narrowed and he had to pass through some overgrown bushes.

Coming out at the other end he saw a big meadow. It was beautiful here, he thought. Serene. Knee high grass, dotted with wildflowers. Not seeing anyone right away, Jon thought he had the wrong spot, but just then a horse and rider came into view. They had come into the clearing to his right, circling around, then came down the middle like they were coming straight at him. He raised his arm to take a drink of coffee and the horse slowed, having seen him. The rider sat back causing the horse to stop. She sat there on the horse, both of them looking at him.