Rayna

She sighed and then slid her phone into her jacket pocket. She wrapped her arms around herself as she sat on the top step at Deacon's house. It was chilly and the wind was picking up just a bit. She was glad he wasn't too far away and that she'd remembered correctly that Scarlett was going back to Natchez that day. Teddy had taken the girls to the mall so they could do some Christmas shopping. She had no patience for the crowds and the franticness of Black Friday shopping, so it was the perfect time to do this. She knew he'd likely be heading back to the cabin now that Scarlett was gone and there wouldn't be an opportunity to talk to him for a while.

She was feeling a little bit like she'd lost her way. She had worked hard over the years to create the life she wanted for herself. She had struggled, in the beginning, to find her footing in the world of country music. It had been harder than she'd thought it would be – not that she'd thought it would be easy – and it took longer than she had wanted to establish herself. And then when she had, it had all been complicated by Deacon's alcoholism and trips to rehab and her own spiral into depression. She'd never talked about that with anyone, not even Tandy, as she fought her way through it, knowing she had to stay strong for Deacon. She had learned, through the years, to develop a persona that allowed her to get through each day intact.

It had all come to a head in the days and the weeks and the months before she had walked away from him for good. Except, of course, for that one night at the cabin. He'd fallen back into his old patterns, struggling to get back on track. She had dug in and supported him yet again, even though it was wearing her down. She had come home from a meeting at the label to find him gone from the house. She was first livid and then filled with despair when she realized he was likely out getting drunk again. She had walked out of the house with nothing but her keys and ended up at Percy Warner Park, in a secluded area, where she cried until she made herself sick.

For days afterwards she felt like she was living in a fog, going through the motions and feeling nothing. Deacon hardly noticed, as he headed back down the rabbit hole yet again. She found it hard to get out of bed every day, sometimes hard to put one foot in front of the other. Her appetite was gone and she barely ate. She had finally gone to see Watty and he was the one who'd gently pointed her in the direction of a therapist, who'd helped her chip away at all the layers she'd built up around her. That was when she'd realized it had all started long before she ever met Deacon, back to the days even before her mom had died, and certainly after that event. When she finally felt like she was more steady on her feet, she felt like she'd taken back control over her life. She had broken up with Deacon, started dating Teddy, and felt like she was turning a corner.

The one night with Deacon and then finding out she was pregnant almost undid her. But Teddy had stepped up and that, along with the knowledge that she needed to be strong for her baby, had gotten her through the worst of it. She'd spent all these years feeling as though she'd built back her foundation. She was solid. She had a loving husband, 2 beautiful daughters, and a career on the rise. Bringing Deacon back into her band had been a risk, but it had paid off. Both for her career and in her personal life. But then the one person she'd counted on, relied upon, was sure would never disappoint her, just had.

She caught herself just as her eyes filled with tears. Breathing in deeply, she focused on what she needed to do next. One of the unintended consequences of therapy, she supposed, was developing the discipline to close herself off from pain and disappointment, willing herself to keep everything inside. It wasn't the best coping mechanism but it had worked for her. It was why she could keep going, even when things were at their worst.

Just then she saw Deacon's truck pull up and she watched him get out, turning towards the house and spotting her on the steps.

Deacon

She looked cold. It was almost December, after all, and the breeze was brisk and the air nippy. He hesitated for just a second. Even from a distance, he could see her fragility. She was easily the strongest person he knew, but he could also see when things were crumbling inside. That was when her strength became her greatest asset. It allowed her to get through anything, not letting anything, or anyone, stand in her way. He was really the only one who'd ever been able to see that. He closed the door and locked it, then headed for the steps leading up to his house.

He stopped on the landing just before the steps that led to the porch. "Hey," he said. "Wanna go inside?"

She shook her head. "This is fine." He shrugged and walked up the steps, settling in next to her. she turned to look at him. "I just realized you were probably going to head to the cabin."

He smiled a little. "It don't matter." He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "What's going on, Ray?"

She took a deep breath and looked out towards the road, then laughed, a bitter sounding laugh. "Well, you know. Life has its own twists and turns and I seem to have headed down the wrong path lately." She looked back at him. "We didn't take the trip, clearly. And had to suffer through the annual Lamar Wyatt Thanksgiving."

He remembered those well. "I do not miss that," he said.

She gave him a sad smile. "Anyway, I had a meeting at the label last week and, well, suffice it to say the idea of a live album went over poorly." That didn't surprise him. "They want a full on record, so I'm going to pull out those songs I put on hold and see what works. I hate to make you come back from your break, but I'd really love for you to go through those with me."

He waved his hand out and shook his head. "Consider it done."

"I have a couple songs I've written that I can finish up." She smiled at him slyly. "Not Saturday Afternoon, I promise." She sighed. "But I have a favor to ask."

"Anything, Rayna. You know that."

She had her hands clasped tightly against her stomach and he could see the movement of her fingers as she seemed to twist them back and forth. "I was thinking – hoping, really – that you would consider writing a song with me. Maybe more than one."

He raised his eyebrows. "You sure?" He knew it probably was killing her to ask. He wished that weren't the case, but he understood. She nodded and looked down at her lap. He hesitated for a second. "Rayna, you sure everything's okay?"

She looked at him. "Everything's fine, Deacon. I'm fine. But they're right. A live album just won't work." She smirked. "And it's not my style anyway."

He smiled. "That is true." He looked up towards the sky, then back at her. "What was that you said? No live albums or greatest hits?"

She grinned and for a moment she looked like herself. "That's what I said."

He breathed in. "You sure you wanna write together?"

"We've written a lot of hits together. We know each other pretty well." She shrugged. "We go to a neutral place. I think we can do it. Do you?"

"You were always my favorite cowriter," he said with a wink.

She laughed then. "I was your only cowriter." She stood up then and he did as well. "So when will you be back from the cabin?"

"Couple weeks. I got a show at the Bluebird."

She nodded. "Call me when you're back and we'll schedule a time."

"Okay."

She looked at him, a little sadly, he thought. "Thanks, Deacon." Then she turned and walked down the steps, making the turn on the sidewalk, and heading for her car. He watched, not sure what to think. In spite of what she said, he knew she was not fine, that things were not fine. He also knew it had to have taken a lot of courage for her to ask him to write with her. He kept watching as she pulled out onto the street and drove off.

Rayna

She turned into the driveway and stopped, getting out to get the mail. Laying on top was a manila envelope with just her name on it. She frowned as she walked back and got in her car. She put the mail in the passenger seat and was set to drive in, but reached over and picked up the envelope. She felt a knot in her stomach. It was the same type of envelope those pictures had come in. She shivered, an ominous feeling spreading over her. She slid a finger under the edge of the fold, opening the envelope. She tipped it up and photo sheets just like the ones before came out, back side up. She breathed in, then turned them over.

She felt like she was going to throw up. It was just 3 pictures, but they were of Teddy and Peggy, and there was no doubt that these pictures were not those of two friends. They were standing someplace downtown, in the dark, and Peggy was leaning into him as they kissed. For a moment, she felt like she was in a dream world, like there was a fog surrounding her. She felt cold and then she felt hot and then she felt cold again. Is this how it feels when your whole world blows up? Again? She wanted to cry, but then she steeled herself, breathing in deeply and reminded herself of Maddie and Daphne. I have to be strong for my girls. We'll get through this. I know we will.

Almost like she was detached from herself, she wondered if Teddy and the girls were home yet. She needed a little bit of time to plan what she would say, but if they were home already, she'd figure it out. She slid the pictures, back side up, back into the envelope, then put her hands on the wheel and pulled up to the gate. She opened it and drove slowly down the drive. When she saw that Teddy wasn't back yet, she breathed out slowly, pulling her car up and parking it. She stumbled out of the car and to the back door, fumbling with her keys before she got the door open. She walked over to the island and laid the mail on the counter, along with her purse and keys. She picked up the envelope and walked slowly down the hall and to the music room. She opened the doors and stood there, looking at the room with a dispassionate eye.

She and Teddy had built this house right after Maddie was born. It was kind of a monstrosity, but it also had become a home. She'd seen it as a bit of a fortress, protecting herself and her family. Inside these walls, she and Teddy had raised the girls together, had movie nights, family dinners. There had been laughter and joy and pajama parties. Homework and swimming and watching her girls dress up in her old stage costumes. She'd rocked her babies here and watched them grow up. She and Teddy had built a solid marriage and she'd felt secure and taken care of. Over the years, her pain over not having the life she'd dreamed of, with Deacon and Maddie, had dissipated and turned into a place of calm.

She loved Teddy. Had loved Teddy. That had been changing, although she couldn't put a finger on exactly when that began. Maybe it was inevitable, in a marriage where the balance wasn't there. Teddy had always loved her more than she'd loved him. He knew that. She knew that too, knew he probably deserved better, but she'd also been satisfied all those years. With no Deacon in her personal life or his shenanigans to hold her back, she'd flourished. Every magazine called her the Queen of Country Music. She'd won CMAs, Grammys, ACM awards, had countless nominations. Every album she'd put out had gone platinum, most multiple platinum. She'd put out multiple #1s, even after she and Deacon no longer wrote hits together.

For at least the last year, maybe longer, she had felt the foundation shifting. Not by a lot, but enough to recognize it had. But Teddy had been busy, caught up with his development, and she had been touring. It was easy to lose that intimacy and seemed harder to get back. She took a step into the room. She'd made sure, when the house was built, that she had a music room, large enough for a home studio and studio recording equipment. She never did more than scratch tracks at home, but it was nice to have it here.

"Mom! Mom!" She heard Maddie's voice and knew they were home. She hurried over to her desk. She retrieved the key from the hidden compartment attached by a magnet under the desk. She quickly unlocked the drawer and slid the envelope in with the other one, then locked it back and re-hid the key. She swiftly headed for the doors, walking out into the hall and closing them behind her just as Maddie ran up to her, followed by Daphne.

She threw her arms open and hugged her daughters. Her heart hurt for them. What had always been great about her marriage to Teddy was the stability they were able to give the girls, as well as his fierce love for them. He'd been a good father in all the right ways – helping with homework, teaching them to swim and ride bikes, patching up skinned knees, reading stories when they'd had a bad dream. She had no idea, at that point, what she would say or do, but it didn't have to happen immediately. Christmas was coming and she wanted to make things as normal for the girls as she could. All the rest could wait.

"How was shopping?" she asked.

"I got everything I needed, except something for Deacon," Maddie said. She looked up. "Do you think we'll see him before Christmas?"

Her breath caught in her throat. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe. But we have to record an album after the first of the year, so then, I'm sure."

Daphne was dancing across the hallway as they headed back towards the kitchen. "I got everything!" she cried. "Even for Maddie. When she wasn't looking." She smiled proudly at her accomplishment.

"Well, that's just great," she said, with an affectionate smile. "It won't be but a few more days before we get the tree up and we can wrap everything and put it under the tree." Their tradition was to put up the tree the first weekend in December, followed by cookie baking and hot chocolate. She would have to find a way to make it a happy time.

When they walked into the kitchen, Teddy was pouring a glass of wine. He looked at her, holding up the bottle. "You want some?"

Her stomach turned over. She shook her head. "I'll pass," she said. Teddy looked surprised, but she turned away from him and walked into the den with the girls.

Deacon

He washed and dried the dishes he'd used and then put them away. He was still thinking about Rayna. He wondered about the news that she was going to actually put out an album. They'd have to hurry to get songs picked or written and then he'd have to spend some time on the arrangements. There would be long hours in the studio before the finished record would go out. And then they'd have to rehearse and get ready for the tour, while still learning all the new songs. A lot of work, but not a lot of time. He yawned and decided he'd go ahead to bed. He'd spent more time on the go the previous few days with Scarlett in town and now he'd have a little bit of time to relax before he'd have to head back to Nashville.

She'd been so worried about him when she first got there, but now she seemed like she had relaxed. They had made dinner together, although that was just a couple cans of spaghetti-o's. They had laughed about how it had been like the old days. He'd heard she was dating someone, but he didn't want to ask her about it. It made him angry that she was really doing this, really moving on with her life. He was trying not to come on too strong, but he sensed her feelings for him were still there. He could tell she was trying to hold back and he knew she was scared, so he'd been cool.

She'd seemed to loosen up, relax. She laughed more easily, smiled a more genuine smile. She didn't look so worried, didn't seem to be watching him. He washed the dishes, telling her to go sit down. It was still light out. The sun wouldn't fully set for a couple hours. It had been a beautiful day and was still warm and pleasant. When he'd dried all the dishes and put them away, he had turned back towards the main room.

She was sitting on the couch, her feet bare. He sat on the coffee table. She looked a little wary. "I should probably go," she said. "Before it gets too dark."

"Don't go, baby," he said. He took her hand in his. "I'm good, Rayna. I'm doing my program, going to meetings. I'm good. Don't you believe me?"

She breathed in, looking serious. "I want to," she said.

He leaned a little closer. "Then do," he said. "I love you so much, baby. You know that. I know you love me too. Even if you are seeing someone else."

She glanced away. "Deacon," she said.

"Ray, please. Look at me." She did. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he'd been holding onto for months. He held it out to her and her eyes widened. "I want me and you to get married. I don't want you seeing no one else. I want to love you and take care of you, just like we always said." She looked surprised. "I love you, Ray. More than anything else in the world." He waited. Then she smiled, a little shyly at first.

"Yes," she said, in a whisper so soft he barely heard it.

"Yes?" he asked. She nodded. He smiled and then took her hand and slid the ring on. It was a thin band with 2 small diamonds on it. She held out her hand and looked at the ring, smiling happily. "I love you," he said.

She leaned towards him and put her hands on his face. "I love you too." Then she pulled him towards her and he kissed her.

He sat up in the bed, blinking hard. His heart was pounding. He didn't remember ever asking her to marry him. Why was he dreaming this now? He turned on the lamp beside the bed and got up, walking over to the chest of drawers. He opened the top drawer. There, in the back corner, was the ring box. He reached for it and opened it. The ring was still there. It had to be just a dream. If he'd really asked her, he didn't remember, plus he still had the ring.

This was giving him a headache. He couldn't figure out if any of it was real or just his crazy imagination. He was sure about making love to her in front of the fire. They'd done that hundreds of times. But he was struggling with the rest. Did any of this go together or were they just snatches of memories and wishful thinking?

He remembered when he bought the ring. It was after his third time in rehab, not too long, he knew, before Vince died. They had talked about marriage before, talked about children, talked about living here, at the cabin, with their family, growing old together and still making music. It had never been the right time though. First it was that they were young and poor, constantly on the road trying to get noticed. After that it was the drinking. And the rehabs. It made him mad, but he also knew it wasn't what Rayna wanted. Looking back on it, 9 years sober, he knew she'd been right. Getting married before he got sober right would not have been the best idea.

He'd bought that ring, though, sure he was ready, sure they were ready. He'd thought long and hard about how he wanted to do it and where he wanted to do it. He was going to ask her at the cabin, the place they both loved so much. He would do it under the stars, after he'd sung some sort of ballad for her, something he'd create just for the moment. Then he'd get down on one knee and ask her. But it hadn't been long before Vince died, in an accident he blamed himself for, and he'd gone down the spiral again, deep and hard. He'd struggled to find his way out. The blackouts started then. Those were scary, but he couldn't seem to get back on track. And that's when she had left for good.

He took the ring out of the box and turned it around by his fingers. He felt a deep sadness. Nothing had seemed to go right after that, for him at least. It had taken 2 more times in rehab, in rapid succession, before he finally figured out he couldn't keep doing what he was doing and he set his mind to getting it right. When he left that last time and was faced with all that he had thrown away, instead of sending him off the deep end again, it had somehow strengthened his resolve to make it work. And he had.

And now he was dreaming about the impossible.

Rayna

She felt like she was sleepwalking through the rest of the day and the evening. The girls were hyped up after a day of shopping and it took longer for them to get wound down and then finally off to bed. At one point, in the middle of dinner, she had wanted to scream. While Teddy went upstairs with the girls she walked down to the music room and retrieved the envelope she'd gotten that day. She walked back out to the den and set it on the coffee table. She paced the room, twisting her hands together.

When Teddy came down the stairs, he was smiling. "I think they're finally down for the count," he said. She looked at him as though she were standing outside herself. He was handsome, with a boyish smile. He rarely raised his voice and they almost never fought. Sometimes she wondered about that, because, of course, she'd been the one to bring the potential drama into their lives. He could take the high road, because he'd been the bigger man. He'd agreed to be Maddie's father and the only time he'd wielded an iron fist had been when he'd elicited her promise to never tell Deacon. He was an excellent conversationalist and he got along reasonably well with her father. At least Lamar wasn't as dismissive of him as he'd always been about Deacon.

Teddy was weak, though, in a lot of ways, as it turned out. She felt that, as the years had gone by, she had exerted more power over the marriage and family. She, of course, made much more money than he did. Her career came first, knowing, as she did, how quickly it could be over. For that reason she worked hard – long hours working on albums and doing publicity, not to mention months on the road on tour. But she'd been blind to his work situation and when he'd tried to go big, it had failed dramatically. She wasn't sure how he'd really been able to keep his financial misdeeds from becoming public but considering the potential damage to her and the girls, she couldn't be unhappy about it. Now, though, he'd gone too far.

"Teddy, can I talk to you about something?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.

He frowned a little as he walked into the den. "Sure. What's up?" he asked.

"Why don't you sit?" She sat in the middle of the loveseat, allowing no opportunity for him to sit next to her. He sat in one of the club chairs. She reached for the envelope and she saw the slightest flinch in his body language. She held the envelope in her lap. "I got this in the mail today," she said. "Well, actually, it was in the mailbox." She slid the 3 pictures out and then laid them on the table. "It's pretty obvious what these are, but I'd really like to hear what you have to say."

Teddy looked sick. He put his head down in his hands. She waited him out, trying to hold herself together. Finally he looked back at her, his eyes filled with remorse. "Unfortunately there's nothing I can say," he said.

She frowned. "What does that mean exactly?"

He looked at her earnestly. "I could tell you that it happened many months ago and that it's something I'm not proud of. I could tell you that it's long over for me but not for her. But something tells me you wouldn't believe that."

She looked away, blinking back tears. What if that's true? What if it was because of what happened with his business deal? She turned back to him. "I don't know, Teddy. Truly. Maybe I would have but, you know, there's these pictures." She rubbed her temples. "I've been faithful to you this whole time..."

He shook his head. "Oh, come on, Rayna. You've been having an emotional affair with Deacon Claybourne ever since we got married."

"That's not true," she said angrily.

He got up then. "Don't be so sure about that," he said and turned to go.

"Teddy?" He turned back. "I think it would be best if you left after Christmas. I don't want to ruin the holiday season for the girls, but I think it's safe to say the two of us are done."

He gave her the ghost of a smile. "Yeah," he said. "I think you're right." Then he turned and headed for the stairs.

She sat back and squeezed her eyes shut. It didn't really matter if Teddy was telling the truth or not. He'd broken the trust in their marriage, whether it was that day or three months earlier. She'd bought herself some time to figure out how to tell the girls. And while it was sad to think this is where they'd ended up, she felt a sense of relief and release.

Deacon

The day he drove back to Nashville, it was cold but the skies were blue and the sun was bright. It was typical December weather in Nashville. By Christmas it would probably be in the 70's. He'd decided it was a good idea to come back a little early. He'd moved up his regular spot at the Bluebird because of the upcoming holidays and he'd let Rayna know he was in town, in case she wanted to get started going through demos. Or writing. He wanted to write with her again. They had done it successfully once since they'd broken up, but it would bring back a lot of old memories. Rayna and the music were the same to him. It had always been that way. Probably would always be.

He hustled up the front steps with his guitar and his duffel bag and then let himself into the house. The stillness of the empty house always evoked a certain sadness, no matter how long it had been. He'd decided long ago that the stillness of a house typically filled with love and laughter was different. It was a waiting feeling, waiting for the people who inhabited it to fill it again with love and music. This was always a different stillness, filled with an emptiness that hurt his soul. He'd wondered sometimes why he'd kept the house. After she left, she'd bought herself out of it. I had to do it, Deacon. I couldn't hold on to that, because what we had there is gone. There had been a chilliness to her tone the day she'd called him, mere weeks after he'd come home from rehab. She had asked how he was doing and told him she hoped he'd make it work. Then she had hung up. Two days later she'd given birth to her baby. To Maddie.

He breathed in deeply and then shook off the melancholy. It didn't do him any good to wallow in it. She'd moved on. He had too, in his own way. He set the guitar case down and then took the duffel into the bedroom, dropping it on the bed. He walked back into the living room and sat on the couch next to the phone. He picked it up and called Rayna.

"Hey," she said, sounding surprised.

"Hey. I'm back in Nashville. Just wanted to let you know in case you wanted to, you know, run through the demos." She didn't answer immediately. "Course I know you're probably busy, with Christmas and all."

"Actually, I am, but I'm thinking it might be nice to get out and do something else, you know? I think I need a little bit of a break."

"Well, you let me know when you want to do it. I'm pretty free."

"Why don't we meet at Sound Check day after tomorrow? We can do a run through on the songs I've got on hold."

He smiled. "I can do that."

"And Deacon?"

"Yeah?"

"I might bring the girls. If that's okay. They'd love to see you."

"I'd love to see them, Rayna. You know that."

"Thanks." She hesitated for a second. "I'm glad you're back."

When he hung up the phone, he sat back and thought about Rayna's girls. When she'd bring them out on the road with her, he'd sometimes think about how, if he hadn't disappointed her so much, it could have been their family. The way they'd always talked about. Back when they were together, they would lay in bed at night and talk about the family they wanted to have and living on the road. But what about when they're older? When they go to school and want to be with their friends or go to birthday parties? He smiled a little. He'd always told her those things would work themselves out. Not to worry. But then it didn't happen for them. And Rayna had Teddy to stay home with the girls. He breathed in deeply, wondering, for the first time in a while, why she couldn't have waited for him.

He had just seen off the last of the fans when he heard Watty's voice. "Hey there, Deacon." He turned around to greet the older man.

"Watty," he said with a grin. "Good to see you. It's been a while."

Watty nodded. "Yes, it has. I heard you were playing tonight and thought I'd come listen to what you've got these days. Seems like you've got a lot of new music."

He nodded. "So what did you think?"

Watty smiled. "Really good work. Lyrics strong as ever, melodies perfect. All ballads, though. You ever thought about doing something more up-tempo?" One of the servers brought over a club soda for him and a whiskey for Watty. They sat down across from each other at the small table. "You know, mix it up a little?"

He shrugged. "Ain't really thought about it."

Watty picked up his glass and tipped it towards him before lifting it to his lips. "You might think about it," he said, before taking a sip of the whiskey. "I heard Rayna's putting out an album after all."

He nodded. "Yeah. Apparently the label thought it was more appropriate." He shrugged. "At least that's what she said."

"She doesn't really have a lot of time to pull it together." Watty frowned. "How's she set for tracks?"

"She's got 4 or 5 songs on hold. We're gonna get together to run through them. She says she's written a couple." He paused. "And she asked if I wanted to write with her. One or two."

Watty raised his eyebrows. "That's interesting. You up for that?"

He made a face. "I don't know. I mean, writing is kind of a personal thing. For us, anyway. So I don't know what that's gonna feel like. Especially to her."

"She can do it. But it's still not enough, even with two songs."

He nodded. "I know."

"Maybe I'll talk to her, see what she's got in mind for this one and I can maybe find some songs for her." He took another sip of his whiskey and sighed. "Little Bits of Heaven wasn't her strongest album, especially after how much mileage she got from Thoroughbred. I can see why they wanted something new. You know, I think writing with you could be good for her. The two of you rarely missed." He swallowed the rest of his whiskey and then put his hand down on the table. "Good to see you tonight, Deacon. Tell Rayna I'll be on the lookout for something special for her."

He smiled. "I will." He watched as Watty got up and made his way to the door, then walking out to the parking lot. He got up himself and started to pack up his guitars.

Rayna

She'd been surprised when Watty had called and invited her to lunch, but also grateful for the opportunity. Watty had seen her the very first time she'd performed an open mic at the Bluebird and had also been the one to recognize the potential of pairing her with Deacon. He had been there the night at the Exit/In when she'd needed a guitar player at the last minute and Deacon had stepped in, also providing harmonizing vocals. Watty had told them they had a magic about them, one they should take advantage of. That night had been the start of her professional association with Deacon, which ultimately had led to the personal one as well.

Her connection with Deacon had happened instantly, from the moment they met. When he had shyly told her she'd inspired a song just being on the stage, she'd fallen in love. They couldn't have been more different but it had felt like she'd known him her whole life. He'd told her later that it had been the same for him. it hadn't been long after the Exit/In performance that he'd left a party with her and his intense kiss had left her both breathless and on fire. His girlfriend had caught them in bed together the next morning and, while she knew she should have felt guilty and remorseful, she felt neither. She had known then that Deacon was going to be entangled in her life forever and she still knew that to be true. Only the way it manifested itself had changed.

Watty had been there from the beginning. Watty had been the one to help her get signed to Edgehill and had been the one to find her Bucky, when she was at the point when she needed a manager. Watty came out at least once every tour to see how she was doing. Watty had been the one to help her get Deacon into rehab the first time. And Watty was the only person besides her sister, Teddy, and Cole who she told that Deacon was Maddie's father. He was her mentor, her champion, her friend, and the closest thing to a father she'd ever really had in her life. As much as her success had depended on Deacon, it had also been as a result of Watty and so she was looking forward to lunch.

She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on that. She got dressed and then headed out the door. Teddy had taken the girls to school and had not been back since. She suspected he might be with Peggy, even though he still claimed that was long over. She still didn't believe him. She got in her car and headed for the restaurant where she was meeting Watty.

Watty was waiting for her when she arrived. He hugged her fondly. "How are you doing, my little songbird?" he asked.

She stood back from him and smiled. "Much better now," she said. "It has been way too long."

He nodded. "It has." He glanced at the hostess. "We're ready." They followed the young woman to a corner table and sat. They looked over the menus and placed orders with the hovering server. Watty then smiled at her. "I heard you went out with a bang," he said. "I wish I could have been there but I was in New York."

"I'm just happy you were able to come out to San Francisco." She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and leaned forward slightly. "I'm so glad you called."

"Well, I hadn't seen you in a while and then I heard you were going back in studio. I know you'd been back and forth on that."

She nodded. "I had actually planned to do a live album. I mean, I know I said I'd never do that, but we had done all the recording and, since we were out so late, I thought it would be easier to take a break. But then Little Bits wasn't as successful as they wanted."

Watty closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. "You've spoiled them, Rayna. They're not happy with a mere platinum anymore."

She rolled her eyes. "That's what I get for letting a record sell 4 million copies, I guess. But it's for the best, although I have to admit I'm a little behind the 8 ball on music."

Watty frowned. "What do you have?"

She sighed. "I have 5 songs on hold, but Deacon and I need to run through them to see if they're even songs I can do. Then I have 2 I've written myself." She looked off to the side. "I asked Deacon if he would write with me."

He looked thoughtful. "You think you can do it? I mean, the two of you are some of the best collaborators I know, but you always wrote a certain kind of song and it's been quite a while since you've done that."

"We can write other things," she said stubbornly.

He nodded. "Maybe." he looked thoughtful. "Speaking of Deacon, I saw him last night at the Bluebird. He has a lot of really good new material. You ever thought of singing something of his?"

She shrugged. "I've done a couple, but Deacon's songs are so personal. It would be hard to do it again."

"No harder than writing together." He breathed in. "If you're sure though, just be careful. Those are dangerous waters. For both of you." Suddenly he looked like he had an idea.

"You look like you thought of something," she said, intrigued by his expression.

"I might have something you'd be interested in. It's actually a song I wrote. Pretty close to the heart song that I never released."

"What's it called?"

"The Rivers Between Us. I'll send it over to you. Maybe you and Deacon can take a listen and see what you think. As I think about it, it could've been the kind of thing the two of you wrote together. So it might work."

The server came then and set down their orders, then hurried off. She smiled at Watty. "I can't wait to hear it."