Rayna looked across the parking lot at the three buses and tractor trailer lined up and it gave her a thrill. It never failed to make her shake her head to think how far she'd come. This would be her first big headlining tour, all arenas. The largest tour she'd done yet. The success of Until You Kissed Me and the CMA awards had enhanced the excitement of her fans, looking forward to her return to the stage. And with the drop of her album Big Open Skies the week before, she was riding a high she hadn't expected.

They had timed pull out for right around the time of Maddie's nap and Rayna hoped she'd go down easily and adapt to the bus. She tightened her grip on her daughter, who lay with her head on Rayna's shoulder and a finger in her mouth, her eyes drooping. She smiled. "Your first tour, Miss Maddie," she said softly. "I hope you love this as much as I do."

She watched as they loaded the last of her wardrobe into the trailer. Her regular clothes were already either on her personal bus or in the cargo hold, along with Maddie's clothes, toys, crib and stroller. It hadn't hit her until a few days before they were to pull out just how much she needed to take for her daughter. The other two buses were for her band and her support team – her stylists and hair and makeup. She also had an au pair riding the bus with her, who would take care of Maddie when Rayna was on stage and at publicity events.

"This is the big time, for sure." Bucky's voice came from just next to her.

She turned to him and smiled. "It's hard to believe. I mean, after all these years, finally a major headlining tour."

Bucky smiled. "Well, to be fair, you've been headlining for several years now."

She ran her hand over Maddie's back. "Yeah, but not all arenas." She breathed in. "The idea of filling up twenty thousand seats a night." She let that sink in. "You did an incredible job, Buck."

He shook his head. "I just took care of the contracts. You, my dear, are the one who made this happen. You stayed focused on what you wanted, in spite of everything." He looked at her and she knew what he meant – in spite of Deacon and the damage he'd left in his wake. And now Deacon would be back. Bucky looked around. "Where is Deacon, by the way?"

"Um…" Just then she saw his truck turn into the parking lot. "Right there." She let out a tiny sigh of relief she didn't even know she was holding inside.

She felt a little shiver run down her spine then. She had told Deacon, way back when she'd first told him she was pregnant, that he could come back into her band. Not only had she been dissatisfied with his replacement – not that he was a bad guitar player, but he just wasn't Deacon – but it meant he could spend time with Maddie. Still, it had felt a little stilted when he'd showed up for the first rehearsal. Everyone knew, of course, that he was Maddie's father, and she had felt like everyone was watching, to see what might happen between the two of them. Almost all the members of her band had been around since the beginning and so they'd been there when everyone was on one bus and they knew how volatile her relationship with Deacon had been.

And then, of course, there was Deacon himself. Having him on stage with her again just stirred up everything. How they interacted on stage had always been, in large part, because they were together. Their lives were so intricately entangled then, had been almost from the moment they'd met, and it showed when they performed together. It had been a rare night when they hadn't tumbled out of a venue, hands all over each other, almost unable to wait to get on the bus or to the hotel. In fact, there were plenty of times when he would hustle her into a dressing room or even a closet, not able to wait at all. He would unzip his jeans and pull down her panties and thrust inside her – hard and rough – just to satisfy the need they had for each other, after a night singing about that all-consuming love. She felt her cheeks get warm just thinking about it and so she looked at her daughter, trying to calm her nerves.

Deacon would be on the band bus. That was the plan. That was the rule she'd set. He'd been pissed. Not that he'd expected to sleep on her bus, when they traveled overnight, but he wanted to spend that time with Maddie. She wasn't sure she could handle it though, being that close, with nowhere to run to if things got too deep.

She had discovered that she liked taking care of herself and her daughter, truthfully. She liked having the freedom to make her own decisions and she wasn't ready to give that up. It wasn't that she hadn't been able to make those decisions before, but when she and Deacon were together – or even when she was with Teddy – there was always someone else to consider. Someone didn't always get their way. She didn't want to feel like she needed a man, the way Tandy seemed to imply. What she believed was that, when the time came that she wanted a man, she would know herself better. So Deacon wouldn't ride her bus. That was her rule.


They'd just finished sound check in Memphis, the first stop on the tour. The band and backup singers left the stage, but Rayna couldn't move. She just looked up to the top of the arena and imagined it filled with fans, later that night. Her heart felt full and she felt like she was home. Standing on a stage, whether it was for a handful of people or fifteen thousand, felt like the place she was always meant to be. It had felt that way from the beginning, even when she was scared to death she would fail. She crossed her hands over her chest and just soaked it in.

Then she turned and walked off the stage, headed for the arena walkways. She took escalators all the way up to the nosebleed seats and found the section that faced directly on the stage. As she walked down the steps, she saw Deacon, sitting where they'd always sat when they were doing this together. She slowed her walk, but he'd heard her footsteps, and had turned to see her. She raised her hand and smiled, then got to his row and walked over to where he was. She sat down next to him.

They didn't say anything at first. She realized she should have known he'd be there. It had been their ritual, although back then it had also been an opportunity to make out. And more. She felt the heat in her face as she remembered these seats were not comfortable seats for sex. She'd gotten her share of bruises as she'd slammed a knee or shin against an armrest. She wondered if Deacon was thinking the same thing.

"So you still do this?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

She nodded, breathing out slowly. "I do." She flattened her hands on the armrests. "I've never forgotten how important it is to consider the people way up here, who can only really see us on the big screens." She smiled at him. "You started a great tradition."

He looked back out over the arena and nodded. "I thought you might not want to, that it would bring up…memories."

She thought about what to say. "All my memories aren't bad ones," she said finally. He looked at her and she saw a mix of hurt and regret in his eyes. She smiled a little. "I have to admit though, that when I got so big" – she made a gesture as though she was smoothing her hand over her belly – "it was just too much. So I didn't do it then."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling a little around the edges. "You didn't look like that," he said.

She grinned. "Close."

He breathed in. "I seen pictures of you on stage then. You looked good."

She smirked. "Well, thank you, but I can promise you that I'll never do that again. I'd stop touring sooner." She clasped her hands together over her lap. "I'd never felt so exhausted in my life. I felt like all I did for the last six or seven weeks I was on tour was to be on stage and then go to sleep. I can't tell you the number of times Bucky had to wake me up when we got to the hotel after a show."

He looked at her and gave her a half smile. Then they fell silent. Not an uncomfortable silence, just tentative. She was grateful to have him back in her band, supporting her. She could feel how much better everything was with him back. The arrangements were tighter, the band worked better together, and, of course, she felt more like herself on stage. He always made her better.

"You ever think this would happen? All those years ago?" Deacon broke the silence.

She turned towards him. "I wanted it. I dreamed about it. I imagined it. It was all I'd ever wanted. For a long time, though, I wasn't sure I'd ever feel as good as I did that first night at the Bluebird."

He smiled. "You were pretty damn amazing that night. Sure turned my head." She could feel herself blush. "Watty knew you had it."

She smiled, feeling embarrassed. "I'm sure he's breathing a sigh of relief now."

He tapped her arm with his fingers. She felt like where he touched was on fire. "Look at you now. Three tour buses. A trailer for all your gear. That's a long way from a truck."

That was true. They'd started out taking Deacon's truck anywhere Watty could get them some time on stage. Watty had been kind enough to bail them out when Deacon's truck broke down and eventually they were able to get a better, albeit still used, truck. The one Deacon still drove. She grinned. "You're right, it is. But it took a while to get to this, you know." She looked back out towards the stage. "You remember the first time we did this?"

"I do. Your first arena tour."

She laughed softly. "Well, it wasn't mine, as you recall. It was George Strait's. And we were the openers for the opener's opener. It was a long time before I even got one bus, if you remember."

He nodded. "True." After a moment, he stood. "I'm, uh, gonna get back. See you backstage."

She looked up. "Yeah." He turned and started walking away from her down to the aisle. "Hey, Deacon," she called out. He turned back. "Thanks for coming back."

He nodded. "Thanks for asking." She watched as he walked to the aisle, then headed up to the section entrance. When he was out of her sight, she took a deep breath and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. Some things didn't change, she supposed, even when everything else had.


Just before the first tour break, Rayna got sick. She supposed it was from being surrounded by people, backstage or at after parties, or even at radio station promos. The last couple nights out she'd felt like she was dragging. Not that she would ever have shown that to her audiences, but at the end of the night, she was barely able to get back to her room before she'd crash. She was trying to keep from getting Maddie sick, but the little girl would cry for her mama, not wanting to go to the au pair.

When the buses pulled up back in Nashville, she wasn't sure she could put one foot in front of the other. She didn't know what she was going to do about Maddie. The au pair was only with her when she was on tour and in rehearsal, so that wasn't an option. She had decided maybe she would wear a mask to keep from getting Maddie sick. But she felt like she needed to be taken care of too.

She got off the bus with Maddie on her hip. She saw Deacon exit his bus and she found herself wondering if she could ask him to take Maddie for a few days. But then she argued with herself, not sure she was ready yet to turn their daughter over to him to take care of alone. Old fears and all that. She had had to admit to herself, though, that he was doing amazingly well and he certainly loved Maddie. But the idea of him taking Maddie to his house worried her.

He saw her then and hustled over to her, taking Maddie from her. He furrowed his brow as he looked at her. "You still not feeling good?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure it's almost over. A night in my own bed and I'm betting I feel much better tomorrow."

"Not if you're up and down with her all the time," he said, nodding towards Maddie.

He'd asked her before about taking Maddie on his own and she'd made vague excuses why he couldn't, which made him angry, feeling like she didn't trust him. The truth was, she wasn't sure she was ready for that. But she also couldn't argue with the fact that Maddie was a handful these days and would make it hard for her to get the rest she needed. "I don't know," she said.

He scowled. "I can do it, Ray. Or maybe I just come stay at your house. Take care of both of you."

That she really didn't want. "We don't need everyone getting sick," she said. "That's not a good plan. We're only home for a week." He'd caught her at a weak moment, though, as all she really wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep. She sighed. "You have to call me if anything comes up. I mean, anything at all, no matter how small it may seem."

His eyes widened and a smile started to cross his face. "Really?"

She wavered. "Do you even have somewhere she can sleep?"

He nodded. "I do. I got a crib. And some other things."

That surprised her. "Did someone help you with that?"

He bit his lip. "Audrey." That made her feel better. Audrey Carlisle would have been careful to be sure he had what he needed. And Audrey and Cole lived near Deacon.

"You could call Audrey too. If you need anything." He started to frown again and she held up her hand. "It's not that I don't trust you, Deacon, but it's the first time you'd be keeping her. What if she won't stop crying? Or she bumps her head, or something? I mean, she's a baby. That's normal stuff. I just don't want you to think you can't ask for help if you need it."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Okay." He breathed in. "So, let me come get some things for a couple days and then you can let me know when you're feeling better."

She hesitated, but then realized she needed to start showing some confidence in him. He'd actually done fine when he'd stayed with Maddie when she went to the CMA's. She promised herself she'd only let Maddie stay one night and then she'd go get her, no matter how she felt. She gave him a hesitant smile. "Okay then." When she saw the grateful smile on his face, she hoped she wasn't making a mistake.


She ended up letting him keep Maddie for two days. She'd spent the first day curled up in a ball in her bed. The second day she was able to get out of bed, but she felt so weak that she couldn't imagine having to take care of an almost fourteen month old. But on the third day, she felt human again, and she missed her daughter. She told Deacon she would drive over to pick up Maddie, as much because she wanted to see his set up as anything else.

She pulled up along the street in front of his house. She looked up the slope to the stone bungalow. It had been great having Deacon back in the band, but being around him all the time had brought up memories, both good and not so good. She felt like she was at war with herself. It had felt like, for a very long time, that he was all she had, the only family she had. It had been hard to walk away and admit there was nothing more she could do for him. She was happy he'd finally seemed to figure out how to make sober work, but it was bittersweet. She finally got out of her car and headed up the steps.

She knocked on the door and waited. When Deacon opened the door, he didn't look any worse for wear. He hadn't even called her once. He had a towel over his shoulder. She smiled. "Hey."

"Hey." He stepped to the side. "Come on in."

She walked in and looked around. There were a few of Maddie's toys in the living room, but it didn't look like the disaster area she'd half-expected. She turned back to him, clasping her hands together. "How did things go?"

He nodded. "Good. Real good." He looked at her closely. "You sure you're ready to take her home?"

"Yeah. I don't have a fever and I'm really feeling so much more human today." She sighed. "And I missed her." she paused. "Where is she?"

"Taking a nap. She should be awake any time." She had to smile. He sounded like he'd been doing this her whole life. "I got all her stuff together. 'Cept these toys."

She looked around again and then back at him. "Why don't you keep those here?" she said, surprising herself a little. She shrugged. "That way you don't have to drag those over every time."

A grateful smile broke over his face. "Thanks, Rayna. I appreciate that."

They stood there for a second, the silence dragging out. She looked towards the back hallway. "So, um, can I see where you set things up for her?"

He nodded. "Sure." He opened the door slowly and quietly. She looked in and was amazed at what she saw. The room was painted a dusty pink color and he had a crib, very similar to the one she had, against the far wall. There was a beach-themed mobile hanging over the crib. On the opposite wall was a changing table and a small chest of drawers. In one corner was a rocking chair, one she recognized as having been at the cabin. "I do okay?" he asked, sounding hesitant.

She looked at him. "This is great, Deacon. And Audrey helped you with this?" He nodded. "Well, it looks like you have everything."

"Got a high chair too. And I bought a few clothes for her, just in case."

Her heart was in her throat. She had certainly underestimated him, at least from the standpoint of being prepared. She stepped back out into the hall and he closed the door, then followed her into the living room. She turned to look at him. "It all looks great."

He frowned a little. "You seem surprised," he said.

"Well, I have to admit I am a little. Not because of anything negative, but just that you did all this. It's really perfect, Deacon."

He smiled. "So does that mean she can come stay with me more?"

She bit her lip. "Um, I think we can talk about what that might look like." The smile on his face told her that he was happy she'd trusted him and she couldn't help but be glad she had.


They had a two week tour break in August. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. As exhilarating as being back on the road had been, it had also been exhausting. Touring with a sixteen month old had been more challenging than she had imagined it would be. She loved having Maddie with her, but she also needed a lot of attention and she was at the age when she wouldn't always go quietly to the au pair. But even more than that, the close proximity to Deacon had kept her on guard. He hadn't made any overt moves towards her, but there had been a more intentional attempt at closeness on his part. The smoldering tension onstage, the more frequent touches on her arm, her hand, his hand on the small of her back. Keeping her own boundaries clear had taken a lot of energy, effort that would leave her worn out at the end of each night.

The tour itself had been amazing. Nearly every single venue was sold out, and those that weren't were just shy a couple hundred from being there too. The response to her newer material, from Until You Kissed Me, which had been released in between tours, had been expected but affirming nonetheless. But Big Open Skies had felt like a revelation, with all the songs either written by her or chosen by her from the countless demos put in front of her. The album had gone one step past Until You Kissed Me, which told the story of a broken heart and taking back herself. Big Open Skies was about what that next step looked like, how she moved forward and became her own woman. It had been both revelatory and resonating and she felt more energized by the music and the creative process than ever.

Watching Deacon get stronger every day about his commitment to sobriety had been bittersweet. She was proud of him, on the one hand, for seeming to have figured it out this time. That it had taken five times in rehab – five – to do it, gave her pause even now, but had been gratifying all the same. But on the other hand, it hurt to realize he couldn't do it until they were no longer together. She couldn't help but feel like she was the reason he'd never been able to make it stick. Coleman had told her a million times, it seemed, that he would never be able to get sober as long as she kept being there for him. That had hurt, because it felt so contrary to what she thought she should be doing. He would tell her that she was enabling Deacon, which, frankly, pissed her off. She had loved him, wanted to support him, and – truthfully – she hadn't wanted to let him die, a fear she kept buried deep inside, never wanting to truly take that out and examine it.

Having him back in her band had been just what she needed though. At least professionally. She'd always believed he made her better and having him back her up had made her feel more confident. That it had come at a price – their relationship – wasn't lost on her, but she was grateful he was there.

She was especially grateful, these days, that she could let him take Maddie now and again. It was never for more than a day or two, but she was developing a confidence in him that he could be responsible for their daughter. Which meant that he would now take the whirling dervish who was Maddie, to give her a couple days to rest and relax.

When she finally climbed off the bus, Maddie on her hip, he was standing beside the cargo hold as it was being unloaded. He looked up when she approached. "You don't have to take her dirty clothes," she said.

He smiled. "I'm not. I just want her toys."

She caught her breath in surprise, but then smiled. "Probably a good idea. Some of her favorites are in there."

He looked at Maddie then, who was uncharacteristically quiet. "You ready to come with me, baby girl?" he asked. She nodded solemnly, although she rested her head against Rayna's shoulder. He reached for her and she went easily to him. Rayna felt a little pang. For all of Maddie's life, she had been the primary person in her daughter's life. Now that she was letting Deacon in more, she realized that would change, and she felt strangely sad about it. It's what I wanted though. I wanted him to know her and for her to know him. I should be happy. And I am, but it also makes me feel like I'm losing her a little bit.

She put a smile on her face. "Well, I'm pretty tired, so I will leave her to you." She started over to her car, where the roadies were loading her trunk with her various suitcases and bags. Deacon grabbed her arm gently and she turned back.

"Thanks, Ray, for letting me keep her. I'll bring her back in a couple days."

She nodded. "If she's missing anything, let me know." He let her arm go. "Enjoy her." She walked over to her car and got in. She started the car, then looked back over towards the buses. She saw Deacon walking towards his truck, his head leaning in towards Maddie, and she felt her heart turn over.

Maybe I'm just gaining him back.


It had felt incredibly good to sleep in her own bed. Although she usually had either a suite or a premium room, usually with nice sheets and soft pillows, sleeping in her own cozy bed was always what she preferred. When she first moved in with Deacon, all they had was a single bed, meant for one person. They had to sleep practically on top of each other, which neither one really minded. It was not a particularly comfortable bed, even without the size issue. The mattress was lumpy, the sheets cheap, and the pillows filled with foam. But Deacon was warm and he smelled good – at least until he started drinking to excess – and his arms were always wrapped around her.

When they had moved into the bungalow, they'd gotten a full size bed, with a better mattress, at least. The sheets were still always crispy and the pillows had to be replaced often, because they would get smashed flat over time. Even though they had more space, they still slept tight against each other, with Deacon's arms around her. She'd bought a nicer bed when she moved out, after Deacon had broken the first bed she'd had when he broke almost everything else in the apartment in a jealous, drunken rage. It was a queen sized bed, with four posters and a deep, enveloping mattress that always seemed to welcome her. The sheets were high quality and soft as a baby's skin, along with thick goose down pillows. It was heavenly and the first night she was home, she'd fallen into it almost as soon as she'd gotten home.

She woke to the sun streaming through the gauzy curtains on her windows. She felt rested for the first time in a while. She got up and walked over to the window, looking out over the small, but lush backyard. The grass was a brilliant green, with dappled shade from the flowering cherries and redbuds and dogwoods. There were flower beds along the back property line. She had a small patio with comfortable chairs and a pergola. She loved spending time out there. She could tell it would be a hot summer day, though, so she doubted she'd sit out there that day.

She dropped the curtain and wandered downstairs to her kitchen, fixing herself some hot tea. She smiled to herself, thinking that hot tea was an odd thing to drink in the middle of August. When she opened the fridge, she saw that the housekeeper had left a bowl of fruit for her and she pulled that out, spooning out a bowlful of beautiful summer fruit. As she sat and ate, her phone rang. She saw that it was Tandy and she flipped it open.

"Hey, Tandy," she said, a smile on her face.

"Are you back?"

"Yes, I am. Got in last night. Slept like a baby."

Tandy laughed on the other end. "As opposed to your actual baby."

Rayna smiled. "Well, my actual baby is at her father's house for a couple days."

Tandy was quiet for a moment. "You sure that's a good idea?" she asked finally.

Rayna fumed. "Yes, actually it is a good idea, Tandy. He's been very responsible with her and I feel completely comfortable when she's there." That wasn't one hundred percent true, but she would never share any lingering worries with her sister. Tandy had never liked Deacon. Well, actually she hadn't hated him at the very beginning, but it hadn't taken her long to change her mind. And then when Deacon started drinking so much, that kind of sealed the deal. Plus she had been disappointed when Rayna had decided to tell Deacon she was pregnant.

"Well, if you're sure…."

Rayna frowned. "I am sure. So, if your only reason for calling was to, once again, chastise me for my decisions, I have better things to do with my time off."

"No, no, look, babe. I'm sorry. I was really hoping maybe we could get together for lunch or dinner or something. I've missed my sister." She sounded remorseful.

Rayna sighed. She'd missed Tandy too. "What about dinner tonight?"

"That sounds perfect. Where do you want to go?"

Rayna thought for a minute. "How about Valentino's?" It had always been her favorite place to go when she was younger. She loved the fanciness of it yet how warm and inviting it was. It always made her feel happy.

"Sounds good. Seven thirty okay?"

"Sure. See you there." She disconnected the phone and then got up, leaving her bowl and mug in the sink, then heading back upstairs to take a shower.


She still felt a little like she couldn't breathe when she turned onto Harding Pike, headed for Belle Meade. She knew her father would be at work and it would be a good time to go to the house. She'd been thinking about this for the last several weeks and thought that, with Maddie not home, it would be a good time for this. When she reached her father's house, she parked her car in front of the porch. She sat in the car, looking up at the massive white mansion, a place that, to that day, made her feel sick to her stomach.

She got out of her car and walked up the steps to the front door. She unlocked it and walked inside, shutting the door behind her. She stood right at the entrance to the grand foyer. The house was completely quiet. The afternoon light coming through the window and across the enormous Oriental rug was hot. She could see dust motes rising up in the air. She breathed in deeply, thinking about the night she'd left, the night she and her father had had the worst fight they'd ever had. He'd told her that if she wanted to keep performing, she couldn't live there anymore. And so she'd packed her bags and left. She was sure her father thought she'd come back home, but she never did.

She walked across the foyer to the staircase. She slowly made her way upstairs, standing in the front hallway. There were bedrooms in both directions. She headed down towards the bedroom her parents had shared, so long ago she almost couldn't remember it. She remembered her mom, but couldn't remember any tenderness between her parents. She took a deep breath as she walked into the bedroom. It seemed smaller than she remembered, but maybe it was just because she was older. It had two oversized dressing rooms – one that was her father's and one that had belonged to her mom. After Virginia died, her father had shut the door and, to her knowledge, never opened it again.

She went to that dressing room, opening the door slowly. The room was dark, as it usually was, the drapes at the window closed. She walked over and pulled the drapes open, brightening up the room. it still looked the same. Nothing had changed. She stood in front of the window seat for a moment, then leaned over and pushed open the seat. Inside were boxes and suitcases full of her memories. Backstage access badges from concerts. Stickers and merchandise with the names of tours she'd been on and, more recently, her own tours. Old notebooks, both lyric notebooks and journals. Publicity photos and magazine and newspaper articles, as well as copies of various country countdowns.

She didn't think her father knew she'd brought them here. After she'd left Deacon, she had brought everything over a period of time. But what she was looking for was the box of pictures. She reached for it and pulled it out, then sat cross-legged on the floor and took the box top off, laying it to the side, and then sat back. She ran her tongue over her lips and then leaned forward, picking up some of the pictures laying on top. She'd had an idea the last few weeks of the tour and hadn't been able to shake it. It had been one night when she'd stayed too long at the after party and she was so wired she couldn't get to sleep. She had tossed and turned all night, thinking about it, and then it wouldn't leave her.

She'd jotted down some thoughts, all centered around Deacon and Maddie. She thought about how her daughter depended completely on her, how she felt the burden to not disappoint her or let her down. And that had led her to thinking about Deacon, both in terms of how he interacted with Maddie and her own history with him.

She propped herself with her elbows on her knees, sifting through the pictures, putting some aside. There was of her and Deacon at the Exit/In, on stage. There were pictures of the two of them backstage, some she'd had no idea had been taken until she saw them later. She had pictures of the two of them, taken as they wrote songs or rehearsed, that were from liner notes on her records. And then there were the personal pictures. Deacon at the cabin, fishing off the dock. Or in a canoe on the lake. Pictures she took of him the first two times she brought him home from rehab. A picture someone in her band took of the two of them leaning against the bus, kissing. A picture of the two of them in Mexico, one they'd had another tourist take. She was dressed in a white sundress and strappy sandals. He had on dark jeans and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons unbuttoned. She looked at that one for a few minutes. They were both tipsy, although they didn't really look it. They'd played one of their little games, one that had ended in 'Postcard from Mexico'. She had one of him asleep in bed. Or maybe he was passed out. She couldn't remember anymore.

She went back to the ones on pickup day at rehab. When she was sure he had figured it out and that he would be good. Back when she was hopeful. She could feel tears in her eyes and she blinked her eyes quickly, trying to ward off the tears. She was so much more innocent then, so much more trusting. She believed in him then, that he wanted to get better. But that was never really not the case. He always wanted to get better, promised he was good, begged her to have faith in him. But she'd slowly but surely lost her faith in him, every time he fell back into the cycle. She stopped believing things would ever change, beat herself up for staying with him and living a life of pain and hurt and anger.

She loved him with her whole heart. Still did, really. But back then it hadn't been enough. She'd still been his safe place, she still took him in and loved him, because what else was she supposed to do, really? She'd never believed she could fail him. She was afraid the booze would kill him. She'd been there for him for so long and she supposed she still was. They had a daughter together and she felt a responsibility to her to keep Deacon safe. Still. To be that place for him to land, to take him in. She couldn't let him fall, wouldn't let him fall. Not this time.

She set the pictures aside she wanted to take with her, then closed the box back up. She put the box back in the window seat and closed it. She slid the photos into her purse and then headed back out of the house, to her car and drove home.


Rayna was about to get on the bus when she saw Deacon pull into the parking lot. She turned back and waited for him to get out and head towards her. She smiled and lifted her hand in a wave. He smiled back and, after dropping off his gear, walked over to where she stood. "Hey," he said.

"Hey. Did you have a good break?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Went up to the cabin for a bit. Did some fishing. Slept a lot."

She felt an ache in her heart when he mentioned the cabin. She hadn't been there in a long time. In fact, the last time she'd been there was when he bailed on rehab – his fourth – and she found him drinking. It had broken her heart to see him that way and she left without him knowing she'd even been there. The cabin had been her dream, her favorite place on the planet. He'd bought it for her and it had usually been a place of solace for them. She gave him a little smile. "It's a good place for sleeping, that's for sure."

"You should come sometime. Bring Maddie."

She shook her head. She didn't think that was a good idea at all, but she hedged a little in her response. "I don't know. Maybe." She cleared her throat. "Listen, I wrote something during the break." She reached into her purse and pulled out the pages from her lyric notebook. "I don't have any music yet, but you were always so much better at that than me." She held the pages out. "Would you take a look? Maybe see what feels right on the music?"

He looked surprised, but took the pages from her. "Sure, Ray. I'd be glad to. You got any kinda idea how you want it to sound?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'd be interested in what you think though."

"Okay. I'll let you know."

She breathed in and smiled a little sadly. "Thanks." She gestured back towards the bus. "I guess I need to get on the bus. Maddie's in there with the au pair."

He nodded. "Okay. I guess I'll see you in Chicago."

"Yep. See you there." She slid her hands in her back pockets and then turned to walk back to her bus. As she walked, her heart was in her throat. It was intensely personal song and she'd laid herself out there. Now she'd given it to him too and she just had to hope he didn't misunderstand.

When they got to Chicago, she stayed on the bus until she saw him go into the hotel. She had watched him look around and even look over towards her bus, but finally he'd headed inside. She waited a few more minutes, until Bucky had come back with the key to her room. When she went into the lobby, she didn't see him anywhere. She just hadn't been ready to talk to him about the song she'd given him, which she now kind of wished she hadn't.


She didn't see him again until sound check. She arrived just in time to get up on stage. She looked around at all her band members, then let her gaze light on him. "Stomping Ground?" she asked.

He nodded. "Sounds good." He counted them in and then they launched into the song from her last album. It was one of the ones she'd picked up from the demos she'd listened to. It was written by a young up-and-coming songwriter who she felt sure was going to be one of the premier Nashville songwriters in the near future. It was something the audiences got up and moved to, which always got her adrenaline going. It had not even been released yet as a single, but it was clearly popular, enough so she had added it to the main set.

When they'd finished, she practically ran across the stage, jogging quickly down the steps. "Rayna!" she heard him call out. She tried to act like she hadn't heard, but she should have known he'd chase her down. It still startled her when he put his hand on her shoulder. She stopped then and turned to face him. "You wanna talk about your song?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not right now," she said. "Maybe later?"

He nodded, looking slightly confused. "Okay. But it was good. Great actually. I came up with some ideas about the music."

She gave him a tight smile. "Great. I'm looking forward to listening to what you have." She hesitated, then said, "Thanks for looking at it, Deacon. I need to check on wardrobe and then get back to Maddie. She was a little fussy."

He frowned. "She ain't sick or nothing, is she?"

She shook her head. "No. Just tired and cranky from the bus ride, I think." She held her hand up in a wave. "Look, I gotta run. See you in a bit." She hurried off towards the dressing room without waiting for a response. She knew he'd want to know what the song was about – was it Maddie or him, although maybe he wouldn't ask if it was about him – and she had to think of the answer she wanted to give him. She felt a little like she given him a piece of her heart, a private piece, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do about that.

She got on the elevator to head back to her room. She'd stayed a little longer than she'd meant to, picking through the stage outfits and making one change. She reached out and pressed the penthouse floor button. The doors started to close but were stopped by someone putting their hand in. The doors opened all the way and Deacon walked in, looking surprised to see her.