~Deacon~

Deacon walked slowly up the steps to the third floor of the extended stay motel where they were living in Memphis. He and Vince were sharing a room and he hoped Vince was off with his latest girlfriend of the moment. He had a bag of Chinese food and he was hoping to be able to work on his songs without Vince being around. Vince was his best friend, but he wasn't good at being quiet.

They'd been in Memphis for almost two months. Paying gigs had been sparse, although things had started to look up in the last week. They all had some kind of other job to help pay bills. He was busing tables and washing dishes during breakfast and lunch at a diner nearby. It paid decent money and he got a few tips, if the waitresses were generous. There were a couple who thought he was cute, if young, and they were more likely to pass along a few extra bucks each shift.

Beverly had visions of them playing in the honky tonks along Beale Street, but it turned out not as many of them focused on country music, so they'd extended their geography. They were starting to pick up a couple gigs a week, not as many as they wanted, but it was a start. And they were already getting asked back, which they considered to be a good thing.

He tried to stay busy, because when he wasn't, he just felt lonely. He missed Rayna. His injuries had healed, but his heart still hurt. He couldn't stop thinking about how he'd left her, standing in her driveway, tears streaking her face. He had wept himself, crying all the way to Doug's barn. He'd felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and, more than once, he'd almost turned around and gone back, willing to suffer Jed's temper just to stay with her.

But what he'd told Rayna was true – this was his dream too. He'd dreamt for years of making it as a songwriter and even as an artist, if he were lucky enough. He also didn't doubt for a minute the threats Lamar Wyatt had made. He knew Lamar was one of the most powerful men in the state and he didn't want Rayna to be hurt any more than she was. When he thought back to that last day, he'd realized she deserved better than someone who was chasing, and being chased by, demons, even if they weren't of his own making. She deserved someone who could treat her right, take care of her, and be worthy of her.

He'd reached room 312 and took a breath before he put the key in the lock. When he opened the door, he was relieved to see the place empty. The maid service had come by and straightened up the room, such as it was. It was a very spare place, with two queen beds and a very basic kitchenette. Everything looked slightly worn and the kitchenette was not well stocked, but it was good enough. The TV only got the basic channels, but he didn't watch much TV anyway. Vince was the one who would turn it on and then spend all night cursing the minimal channel selection.

He sat down at the small table and pulled the food out of the bag. He ate the moo goo gai pan and rice straight from the containers, not bothering to get a plate. He ate the food quickly. On days he worked at the diner, he could have free food, but he didn't have much time to eat, so dinner was usually his primary meal. When he was done, he threw out the trash, then picked up his messenger bag and laid it on the table. He opened it up and pulled out the notebook he was doing his writing in.

He'd finished the song he'd started about the fireflies dancing and the rusty string guitar. It had made him think of Rayna and the little shack in the woods where they spent time. One day, if he was lucky, he hoped he'd be able to buy something much nicer that he could take her to. He looked over the second verse he'd written, the one that spoke to him so directly now, of love and loss and wishing for things he couldn't have.

Work so long and hard to chase your dreams / Wind up someplace you don't want to be / It's such a lonely road, especially when you know

It was a simple song, just a voice and two guitars. Beverly hadn't wanted to do it herself, so she was letting him perform it. He sighed.

There's fireflies dancing in the yard, under the blanket of stars / The sound of their rusty string guitar playing songs we know / And all that I have to do, is think one little thought of you / And I'm back home, I'm right back home

He picked up his guitar and worked through the melody again, singing along until he found himself getting choked up. He'd promised Rayna he'd come back, a year from this point. He'd given her that ring and told her it meant he'd be back. But that was before Lamar, before Rayna's father had made it clear he wouldn't tolerate it. Before he'd tried to use a bribe. It made him mad, but it also scared him a little. He didn't doubt that Lamar would make good on his promise to keep Rayna from him.

He didn't know what to do. But it was a year away. He'd figure it out. One way or the other. Just then he heard a key in the lock and then the door opened and Vince charged in.

"Deke, buddy, you're back!" Vince hollered. He gave Deacon a quick slap on the back. "Come on, let's go out. I got some booze." He leered at Deacon. "And some girls." He winked.

Deacon shook his head. "I ain't interested in any girls, Vince."

"Aw, come on, man. Rayna's back in Natchez. You're here in Memphis. Who's gonna know?"

Deacon frowned. "Me. I would know."

Vince made a face. "Come on, Deke. Nobody says you have to hump 'em. Just hang out. Have some fun. You can do that, right?" He put his hands on Deacon's shoulders and squeezed them. "Come on, buddy. You been holed up here every night since we got here. Let's go out and have a little fun."

Deacon sighed. Vince was right. He'd done nothing other than work and perform since they'd gotten to Memphis. Maybe he did need a night on the town. No girls, though. He was still loyal to Rayna. But it might be fun to go out and let loose a little bit. He got up from the chair. "Okay, I'll do it," he said. "But no girls."

Vince held his hands up. "No girls. For you, anyway." He laughed. "I'll keep 'em all for me!"


Deacon shook his head as he walked up the steps to the motel room. He'd left Vince at the park, where they'd been hanging out with the two girls Vince had set them up to meet, even though he'd told Vince he wasn't interested in a fix-up. He'd tried, for Vince's sake, to not be a wet blanket, but it wasn't working. He wasn't looking for a roll in the hay or a little feel up or any of the things Vince seemed to be after. He didn't begrudge Vince his fun, but he just couldn't do it himself. He couldn't do it to Rayna.

"So, Deke, this here's Amanda and her friend Janie." Vince put his arm around Amanda, a voluptuously pretty blonde, who was wearing the tightest jeans Deacon had ever seen and a tank top that accentuated her boobs. Janie smiled at him. He hesitantly smiled back. She was pretty too, a little less over-the-top than Amanda, but he felt uncomfortable as she seemed to size him up. "This is my buddy, Deacon," Vince said, waving his free arm towards Deacon. "He came with me from Natchez to chase our dream."

Deacon had to smile at that. It really wasn't Vince's dream. He was just along for the ride. Willingly, but Deacon knew he could have stayed in Natchez and worked construction, like his dad, and been perfectly satisfied. Vince was a solid guitar player, though, and he added a lot to their group. "Yeah," he said. "We're just all chasing Vince's dream with him."

Vince laughed. "We all gotta dream!" he shouted. He looked down at Amanda. "Ain't that right, girl?" She laughed along with him. "You're my dream tonight!"

They sat at a picnic bench and Vince poured them all cups of Old Crow whiskey. It was cheap and Deacon knew Vince had gotten someone to buy it for them. It was the kind of whiskey Jed drank, the kind he'd steal away sometimes when he wanted to dull the ache. Deacon was a careful drinker, mostly, though, not wanting to go down the same path as his father. More times than he cared to remember, Jed would taunt him with 'you're gonna be just like me, boy' and Deacon swore, every time, he wouldn't.

"You're kind of a quiet guy." Deacon was startled out of his reverie by Janie. He turned to look at her. "Vince said you were quiet."

Deacon shrugged. "I guess."

Janie moved a little closer and took a sip of the whiskey in her cup. She made a face. "This stuff is pretty rank," she said, with a sharp laugh.

Deacon smiled and nodded. "It is. But it's cheap."

She inched just a little closer. Deacon cut his eyes over to Vince and Amanda, but they were heavy into necking. He breathed in. "So, what's your story?" Janie asked. "Why did you come to Memphis?"

"Me and my sister, we sing together. We came here to try to catch on as a duo. And I'm, uh, writing songs."

She smiled. "That sounds exciting," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Then she reached out and put her hand on his arm. He jerked back. She frowned. "What's your deal?" she snarled.

He frowned back. "I got a girlfriend."

She looked around, an annoyed look on her face. "I don't see her anywhere," she said.

"She ain't here. She's in Natchez. Waiting for me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Waiting for you? Seriously? I'm pretty sure, if you left her back home, she's not waiting for you."

He scowled. He didn't want to believe that, not the way Rayna had begged him to stay. But he had told her she should move on. He didn't know if she really would though. "You don't know," he said angrily. He stood up and stepped out of the picnic bench. "I ain't looking for nobody else."

Vince looked up then. "Hey, bud, what's going on?"

Deacon glared at him. "I'm not looking for a girl, Vince. I done told you that. I'm outta here." He turned and started walking back in the direction of the motel.

"Don't go, Deke! Come on back, man!" Vince hollered after him, but Deacon kept walking, fuming inside.

He wasn't ready to give up on Rayna. He just hoped she wasn't giving up on him.

He fell onto the bed and closed his eyes. He really wasn't ready for another girl. Even to satisfy an urge. He'd waited for Rayna, taken his time with her, because she meant something to him. She still did, and he wasn't ready to forget her just yet.

He thought again about the things Lamar Wyatt had said to him, how he'd tried to warn him off Rayna, how he'd tried to buy him off. He knew Lamar had nothing to do with Jed's explosion the night before he and Beverly had left, but he still felt a chill in his core when he thought about Lamar's face and his tone and the underlying threat. But he also didn't want to lose Rayna. She had been the best thing in his life and had given him hope for something better. And that was still part of his dream too.

~Rayna~

Rayna could feel the hot mugginess in the air when she woke up on a late June morning. The first thing she was aware of was how sticky the air felt. It was like a damp, warm blanket filling up the room. She hated Mississippi in the summer. The second thing was remembering Deacon was gone, something she thought about every single day. He'd broken her heart in his truck on the road that led out of town, back before school even finished for the year. As the days passed, she thought it wouldn't still be so raw, but it was. She cried every day and now it was making her sick to her stomach again.

Which was the third thing she thought of, as she pushed herself out of bed and bolted for her bathroom just in time to throw up in the toilet. When she was done she sat against the wall, panting and feeling weak. She grabbed a towel and wiped off her mouth, then lay on the cool tile floor, her hot cheek pressed against it. She could feel the tears welling up again and her head hurt.

She was sure she was pregnant, but she was afraid to go find out for sure. She also knew that was foolish, as her options grew more limited the longer she waited. She had no one in Natchez to confide in. When she'd made her decision to start a relationship with Deacon, she had totally and completely insulated herself. He had been her whole world. She had called Tandy, finally, and she had agreed to come get Rayna for a weekend in Jackson, where she was doing an internship. She knew her sister would take her somewhere so she could find out for sure.

She sat up and leaned against the wall. She reached her hands up and covered her breasts, wincing at the tenderness. They'd gotten bigger too, straining painfully against her bra and her blouses. In the last couple weeks, her stomach had started to pooch out and she slid one hand down over her nightgown to feel the roundness there. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, wondering what she was going to do.

She and Deacon had been careful, ever since the magical night she'd let him take her virginity. He was a surprisingly sweet and gentle lover, although as they'd gotten used to each other, the sex had gotten more raw and heated. But she'd had time to figure out exactly when she'd gotten pregnant.

It was prom night.


They hadn't actually gone to prom, but had gone out to the little shack in the woods where they most often made love instead. That night he'd brought a little flask of whiskey and it had been enough to get them both seriously tipsy, to the point where they had forgotten to be careful. It had to be then. There was no other time when she'd been inattentive.

At first she'd thought the crying was making her sick. She couldn't seem to stop, although she had to make herself not cry at school. It had been hard to be at school without him. Every time she went to the cafeteria or sat in her algebra class, and he wasn't there, she'd had to force herself not to give in to her grief. But she was getting sick every day, or almost every day, and food turned her stomach. She had gone to the library in town and sat at a table in a corner and flipped through a book about pregnancy.

All the signs were there. She hadn't had a period since April. She was exhausted, all the time. She couldn't stand the smell of flowers, something she'd always enjoyed. She was moody as hell. And her bras were tight. She'd actually lost a little weight, but her pants and skirts were tighter around the waist. She closed the book, put her face in her hands and cried.

She still hoped it wasn't true, that it was just all the emotions she was feeling after Deacon had left. She tried not to think about it, but one morning, after she'd gotten out of the shower, she'd caught a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror, and her heart sank. Her stomach, usually flat, was not. In fact, it had a distinct rounded shape to it. Not so much that she couldn't hide it still, but there it was. And she'd finally had to have Samuel drive her downtown so that she could shop for larger bras. That's when she'd called Tandy and invited herself to Jackson for the weekend.


Lamar had stood in the drive and waved as Tandy and Rayna drove out. Rayna was grateful that her morning sickness was truly only in the morning and that she felt good on the drive to Jackson. Tandy would be in her senior year at Rice and had snagged an important internship for the summer. She reached over and squeezed Rayna's hand. "Sweetie, I'm so glad you're coming for the weekend," she said.

Rayna felt a lump in her throat. "Me too," she murmured.

Tandy frowned and glanced over at her sister. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Rayna had forgotten how intuitive Tandy was. "What?"

"You don't seem like yourself," she said. "And you were so insistent about me coming to get you. Did you and Daddy have a fight?" Rayna shook her head. "Is this about Deacon?" Tandy knew Deacon was gone and Rayna knew she was relieved. She had agreed with their father that Deacon wasn't good for her. At the mention of Deacon's name, though, Rayna burst into tears. Tandy pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car, turning to her sister. "Did something happen? Did he come back?"

Rayna put her hands over her face and shook her head. "No," she mumbled. "He's still gone."

Tandy reached out and put her hand on Rayna's arm. "Sweetie, what is it? What's going on?" Tandy's voice was quiet and concerned, which made Rayna cry harder.

When she finally got control of herself, she looked at her sister. "I'm pregnant," she blurted out and Tandy gasped. "I think."

Tandy's eyes raked over her. "What makes you think so?" she asked.

Rayna could feel the tears again. "Well, I throw up every morning. And my clothes are tight." She took a couple of deep breaths. "And I haven't had a period since the beginning of April."

Tandy gasped again. "Oh, Rayna honey, why did you wait to tell someone?"

Rayna was crying again. "I don't know. I guess, I don't know, I guess I didn't want to believe it. We'd always been careful, except for one time, obviously, but I never thought I'd get pregnant."

Tandy took a deep breath. "Well, what do you want to do?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"I guess I need to find out for sure. That's first."

Tandy ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "And then what?"

Rayna wiped her eyes and then ran her hands over her legs. "Then I guess I'm gonna be a mama," she said.


It never occurred to her that she wouldn't keep her baby. It was Deacon's, after all, and she couldn't imagine giving it to someone else. She and Tandy didn't talk about that at first, however. Tandy got her a pregnancy test, which confirmed Rayna's suspicions, and then took her to get a blood test at a local clinic, which just made it certain. She was almost thirteen weeks pregnant.

Tandy took Rayna to her apartment and fixed her a cup of tea. She brought it back to her sister, who was curled up on the couch, her face blotchy from crying. Rayna looked up at Tandy and took the cup. "Thanks," she whispered. She took a sip and then set it down. Tandy sat down next to her and pulled her into her arms. "What am I going to do?" Rayna asked then.

Tandy took a deep breath and just held her sister for a moment. "What do you want to do?" she asked.

Rayna bit her lip. "I want to tell Deacon," she said, then started crying again.

Tandy didn't say anything at first, just rocking her sister. Finally she said, her voice soft, "Do you know where he went?"

Rayna shook her head. "He talked about Nashville or Memphis or Austin or anyplace that had music. He could be anywhere. I don't think there's any way I could find him." She started to cry again. She didn't think she'd ever cried this much in her life. She leaned her head back on Tandy's shoulder. "What am I gonna do?" she cried. "This is all such a mess."

Tandy made little shushing noises and smoothed Rayna's hair back off her face, continuing to rock her gently. Finally she said, "We'll figure it out, sweetie. I promise."


Rayna couldn't make herself open the car door. Tandy turned to her. "Sweetie, we have to do this," she said softly.

Rayna put her arms around her waist. She felt a little queasy thinking about having to tell her father she was pregnant. She looked at her sister. "He's going to be so angry," she said.

Tandy bit her lip and then nodded. "Yes, he probably will," she said. "And disappointed."

Rayna started to cry, pressing her fist against her mouth. She struggled to breathe for a moment. She then took a deep breath and clenched her fists in her lap, and looked over at Tandy. "I'm not giving this baby up," she said, her voice steely. "I know that's what he'll want, but I'm just not. This is my baby. And Deacon's. I won't do that."

Tandy looked at her with compassion. "Rayna, you're just barely seventeen. You have your whole life ahead of you. A child is a big responsibility," she said.

Rayna frowned. "I don't care. Maybe we didn't mean to do this, but it happened. And my job is to keep this baby safe. To protect it. Even from Daddy." She breathed out. "Maybe especially from Daddy. I'm not going to let him bully me."

Tandy reached out and grabbed her hand. "I believe you," she said.

Rayna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could feel herself getting calm and centered. Being pregnant didn't scare her as much as the idea of raising a child, but knowing it was Deacon's and that she would always have a part of him with her, no matter what, made her feel stronger. She hoped he really would come back for her, as he'd promised. She looked down at the ring on her right hand and remembered his words. Somehow, some way, I will come back for you. She looked over at Tandy. "I'm ready," she said, and she opened the car door.

~Deacon~

He finally seemed to have turned a corner on the songwriting thing. Every spare minute he had, he'd spend working on his music. He wasn't sure what exactly had changed, but he'd woken up the morning after Vince had dragged him to the park with the knowledge that he needed to fill up his time and stay as busy as he could. If he did that, the days and weeks and months would go by faster and it would be time to go back to Natchez for Rayna.

He'd woken up that particular morning thinking about the cheap whiskey Vince always seemed to have around. He was surprised at how easy, first the words, then the music, seemed to flow.

He sits all alone in his easy chair / Staring back on all his lost yesterdays / Long before he encountered the bottle / And the demons that drove her away / In his hand he is holding her photograph / Her image all tear-stained and worn / Tonight he's embracing reality / And he curses the day he was born

And the darkness still echoes her warning / You can't have two loves in your life / Now the things that still haunt him / Till the day he dies / Is the smell of cheap whiskey / And the sound of goodbye

Rayna had been right. It was something he knew, even though he hadn't written the dark side of it. But he did know how cheap whiskey could destroy everything that was good and that was what he wrote about.

Since the hour she left he's been sober / And each breath that he draws makes him think / Of the love of his life lost forever / When he traded her love for a drink

And the darkness still echoes her warning / You can't have two loves in your life / Now the things that still haunt him / Till the day he dies / Is the smell of cheap whiskey / And the sound of goodbye

Beverly had loved it. That had made him happy. Since they'd left Natchez, she'd seemed to shed some of her hard exterior. She laughed more. She relaxed more. And, in private moments, she'd told him she finally was sleeping through the night. He'd had to turn away from her then, so she wouldn't see his tears. They had both spent many nights awake or only lightly sleeping, never knowing if the darkness that settled over their lives might head down the hall and become a nightmare.

They were performing the song for the first time that night. He always felt a little nervous before the first time, wondering how the audience would react. It was times like these that he realized how much he wanted this dream. He felt like he'd been born to write songs and perform them. Even as much as he missed Rayna, he knew this to his core.

~Rayna~

Lamar was sitting at the desk in his home office when Tandy and Rayna came in. Rayna felt a knot in her stomach and quivers of anxiety. Her father pushed back from the desk and smiled at the two of them. "Welcome back, girls," he said genially. "How was the weekend?"

"It was fine," Tandy said with a quick smile, then looked over at Rayna. "Rayna needs to talk to you about something."

Rayna saw the smile on his face start to fade and she felt sick to her stomach. Lamar raised his eyebrows. "What is it, Rayna?" he asked, his voice still calm but obviously wary.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She was determined not to cry. She wasn't sure how to start, so she just blurted it out. "I'm pregnant, Daddy," she said.

Lamar's face got red and his eyes narrowed. "You're what?"

She could feel the tears and blinked rapidly. "I'm going to have a baby," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lamar breathed in and out, then stood up. Tandy backed up a step and took Rayna's hand. "How could you be so stupid as to let this happen to you?" he said, his voice starting low and building to a shout. "I'm guessing that piece of trash forced himself on you."

Rayna got mad then and glared at him. "No, he did not. We were careful."

Lamar raised his eyebrows. "Not careful enough, though. And now, I suppose, he wants to ride on your coattails."

She stomped her foot. "He's not even here! He doesn't even know!" she shouted back at him.

He smiled sardonically. "So he's run out on you, has he? Not even here to be a man for you then?"

She took a step forward and Tandy grabbed her to hold her back. She clenched her fists by her side. "Stop it! If he knew, he'd be here," she said, with a bravado she didn't completely feel.

The smile vanished from Lamar's lips. "But he's not. And if he does come back, you won't be here."

She felt a cold chill. "What do you mean?"

"You're not staying here, Rayna. You're going to get rid of that spawn and leave Natchez."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

She set her jaw. "I'm past three months. And I wouldn't do that anyway."

He fumed and turned away for a moment. Then he swung back around, his arm flying through the air. "Well, you're not staying here," he said firmly. "I'll call Eleanor and she can put you up. Then we'll find a suitable couple to take the child."

Rayna pulled against Tandy as though she was going to throw herself against Lamar. "No! I'm not giving up my baby! You can't make me!"

Lamar smiled. "Oh, you think I can't? In spite of the fact that you've dishonored yourself as well as me, you're still my minor daughter. I still have the right to make decisions on your behalf. And neither you nor the child of that lowlife will ever live in my house." He looked at Tandy. "Get her out of my sight. I'll have Samuel come pick her up."

Rayna was shaking, both from rage as well as fear. She couldn't believe her father was actually going to kick her out of the house. Tandy put her arms around her. "No, Daddy, I'll take her. Call Aunt Eleanor and tell her we'll be there tomorrow."

Before Rayna could say another word, Tandy hurried her out of the room. As Tandy guided her down the hall, they could hear Lamar shout after them, "You'll never come back here, do you hear me? And if that white trash ever shows his face in Natchez again, it'll be the last time he does. I'll make sure he never comes close to you again!"

Rayna felt tears rolling down her face, both tears of anger and of anguish. There was a gnawing fear in the pit of her stomach that she would never see Deacon again.

A/N: The song Deacon writes is 'Cheap Whiskey' by Martina McBride.