Ohhh my, the feel of this story is tough for me to channel - summer is in full swing for me here and it's beaches and bbqs and there's not a snowflake in sight! Maybe I should have whisked Rayna and Deacon away on an island holiday and I might have had more luck in putting words on the page a little faster!

Anyway, here's something...

Chapter 3 – The Ambrose Inn

The day was cold and crisp, the sky pink-hued behind gathering cloud.

As the sprawl of the city grew smaller in her rearview mirror and the countryside started to spread its arms open wide, Rayna felt like she was driving into a big lungful of fresh air. She could breathe again.

Lately she felt like she was being pulled in so many different directions, always needed for something, always operating in top gear, so as much as she wasn't looking forward to performing with Deacon tonight, this little side trip away from the city where she could steal a rare but much needed slice of time to herself was a godsend.

Rayna kept the drive leisurely and made a couple of pitstops which meant the trip took close to three hours, but she had made sure that she'd arrive at The Ambrose Inn well before she was expected. She wanted to give herself enough time at the start to get around the many familiar faces that would no doubt be there since she planned on hitting the road again directly after their set. Although, the closer she got to her destination, the more she began to regret her decision not to stay over – it was so beautiful around here and she probably could have used a night away from her Nashville life – but there was nothing to be done about that now.

Down a country lane about ten minutes outside of a charming little town, The Ambrose soon appeared on the hillside around the bend, only a few other homesteads dotted around the wide-open farmland. Bounded by an old stone wall, the driveway wound up a gentle slope through picturesque gardens and manicured lawns to the beautiful Tudor Revival style main building with its brick walls and half-timbered gables. Once the private residence of the Ambrose family, the house had been converted into an Inn back in the early 80's, and it was at the grand opening that Hank and Emmy had met as starry-eyed 20-year-olds. A renovation a few years back had modernized the whole place, and now it was often hired out for functions, but had also become famous for its Sunday sessions where locals would come for delicious home-cooked country fare and an ever-changing lineup of both budding and seasoned musicians.

Parking in the small lot out front, Rayna was surprised to see Deacon's truck was already here. Usually, he was the one rolling in unhurried at the last minute as if he had all the time in the world, and she was the one tapping her wrist and scolding him. Until, of course, he'd flash that roguish, dimpled grin at her, and she'd smile right back and suddenly scheduling wouldn't seem so important.

Running a hand through her hair, Rayna took a deep breath as she channeled her sparkling public persona before heading inside. The double doors opened to a grand entrance hall where, off to the right, a sweeping staircase led up to ten guest rooms, and to the left, a wide arched doorway opened into the main function room. The high ceilings in the room made for great acoustics and the tall multi-paned windows let in lots of natural light, but the space felt cosy and warm all the same. There were already several pockets of people dotted around the tables, the low buzz of casual conversation and happy laughter drowning out the easy country music playing over the speakers.

Rayna spotted Deacon immediately.

Sitting on the leather couches by the windows, he had his back to her as he chatted to a couple of older men, one of whom had Deacon's Martin in hand, plucking out riffs and nodding at the sound, impressed. As if he felt the change in energy with her arrival, Deacon turned a slow glance over his shoulder, his eyes locking onto hers straight away and, with an unreadable expression on his face, gave a small cursory nod before turning back to his company.

Rayna sighed. So he hadn't thawed out any amount towards her yet. Things with Deacon hadn't been this strained since way back when he'd found out that she was marrying Teddy. It made her feel all off-kilter. Like her world was spinning on a skewed axis. Part of her wanted to make things right (although what did right with Deacon actually look like these days?) but part of her wanted to keep him at arm's length for her own self-preservation. Because at least when they were like this, it was easier not to peek at the old tangle of complicated feelings for him.

Before she could disappear beneath the waves of contemplation, Rayna was swept up in a cloud of perfume and effervescence that was Emmy Howard. Looking much younger than her 52 years with her sleek dark hair and flawless skin, Emmy was a bubbly and good-hearted woman with never a bad word to say about anyone, and Rayna always had time for her.

"Rayna!" enthused Emmy as she clutched her in a keen embrace. "Thank you so much for coming! We are just so grateful that you and Deacon are celebrating with us tonight! It means the world!"

Rayna hugged Emmy back tightly. "Oh, Emmy, it's an honor to be able to share in this special milestone with you."

"Come." Emmy took Rayna's hand and pulled her towards the oak bar at the back of the room. "Hank's over here. He'll want to say hi."

The next hour and a half passed in a flash as Rayna did the rounds of people she knew and people she didn't – some a little starstruck to meet her – and whether it was intentional or not, it wasn't lost on her that, as Deacon did rounds of his own, he managed to steer well clear of her.

Not long before their set was due to begin, Rayna found herself cornered at the bar by Emmy's old uncle Dale – a very nice man, but prone to long-winded, dull monologues, and Rayna couldn't even get a word in to excuse herself. Spotting Deacon approaching the bar just behind Dale to pour himself a glass of water, Rayna grabbed at her chance for an out.

"Deacon!" she called in one of Dale's rare pauses. "We still need to run through that chorus before we go on. You know, the one where we were going to change up the harmony?"

That was one of their standard 'save me' lines that they'd used a thousand times over the past two decades, and the other had never failed to stage an immediate rescue. Until tonight, where Deacon just looked at her blankly and gave a little shake of his head.

"Nah, don't think we need to. Let's just keep it the way it is."

Rayna gave him a pointed look. "You sure? I mean…"

"Oh, I'm sure." replied Deacon with a tight smile. "See you up there."

Rayna glared daggers at Deacon's retreating form as she sucked on her top teeth bitterly, barely aware that Dale had started talking again. Thankfully at that moment, Emmy descended on them.

"Uncle Dale!" Emmy exclaimed as she grabbed Rayna's arm. "Can't keep the one and only Rayna Jaymes all to yourself! She's up soon, so I need to take her away so she can get ready."

Leading the way to the stage area, Emmy was all apologies. "So sorry, Rayna! I only just spotted you there! Goodness, he can talk, can't he? We've all been there, let me tell you. Ooh, I'm so excited to hear you sing! I'll go find Hank, he wants to say a little something before you start up."

The stage was an understated low platform, and Deacon was already there, kneeling next to his amp.

"Thanks for the save back there." said Rayna drily as she stepped up next to him.

Deacon glanced up at her. "You needed savin'? That's a first, Ray. Usually it's the other way 'round."

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, because aside from being uncharacteristically snide, it also drew attention to the numerous times that she'd literally saved his life, and he was only eternally grateful for that. For her.

But she'd hurt him.

Yes, he'd been crushed that she'd cancelled the tour, but he could understand why. Those songs – ironically, some of the ones they were here to sing tonight – were very personal; deep; difficult. That tour would mean night after night of laying themselves bare and singing their way through the beautiful collision that made their history together, and long-closed doors to places both dark and light would no doubt be opened. He was ready for that – had always been ready - and although he hoped that she was too, it really had come as no big surprise to find that she wasn't and had backed out. So that, he could understand, forgive.

But then she'd told him that she didn't think they should work together anymore. She'd fired him. And that was the blow that took him out at the knees. Music had brought them together way back when, and it had been their one constant. The one thing that was truly theirs. Them. He'd been her lead guitarist, her stage partner for 20 years, and despite all the roiling water under their bridge, the shimmering gossamer threads of music had kept them connected, and he'd been certain that they were unbreakable. But she'd gone and severed them, turned her back on the very essence of their relationship, and that hurt worse than anything. And although he wished that he could be gracious about her decision, rise above it – or at the very least, mask his feelings about it – when it came to matters of Rayna Jaymes, he bled out. Fast and flowing and obvious, and there was no disguising that.

Rayna frowned at Deacon's comment, but before she could say anything further, a hand clapped down on her shoulder.

"You ready for us?" came the booming voice of Sully, an old bass guitarist friend of Deacon's.

"We sure are." replied Deacon with a smile that he didn't really feel. "Come on up."

Emmy had decided that she wanted to start the night with some of the big numbers from Rayna's solo albums to get people's feet tapping, so Sully and two of his friends were going to play back up for the first set, then drop back for the second set where Rayna and Deacon and the slower numbers of their early music would be at the fore. That suited Rayna just fine – hopefully by the time it came to duet with Deacon in the second half they would have gotten into the swing of things and the tension between them might have dispelled a little.

The room had filled up by this time – a chartered bus had dropped off the majority of the guests who were staying in the nearby town – and there was a happy vibe buzzing through the crowd. As Hank said a few words of introduction, a little frisson of excitement shot through Rayna, sparking her cells alight. No matter how many times she took to the stage or the size of the audience she was performing for, she was filled with absolute joy every time, and she felt endlessly blessed to have been able to make a career out of her one true passion.

As the first set came to a close, the big smile on Rayna's face was near enough to genuine because it was clear that everyone had loved every minute of it. Passing the microphone to Hank for his speech, she slipped off to the bar, her smile fading with every step. She wouldn't normally have a drink until after she had finished performing, but these were extenuating circumstances and she certainly needed a whiskey-strengthened coat of armour tonight. Although outwardly the performance had gone well, she had been painfully aware of the limited interaction between her and Deacon during those songs, and she was still shivering from the cold shoulder he'd been giving her. How the hell they were going to pull off the warmth of their duets was anyone's guess. Quickly downing a double shot, she tuned back into Hank's speech which was surprisingly sentimental and heartfelt, and Rayna raised her eyes heavenward more than once to keep her emotions under control. After a few teary words from Emmy, a couple of toasts, and not nearly enough time for Rayna to steel herself, it was time for the second set to begin.

As she took to the stage, Rayna let her performance smile falter as she turned away from the audience and stood in front of Deacon who was sitting on his chair retuning his guitar.

"Deacon."

A long moment passed, but no acknowledgment came.

"Deacon!" she hissed, a little more desperately.

"What?!" he snapped impatiently, finally glancing up at her.

"Are we gonna be able to do this?" she asked shakily, her expression so open and raw that Deacon could see the pain he felt reflected in her eyes and, for the first time, realized that maybe all of this was hurting her just as much.

And God, how he hated to see her hurting.

Then before he could stop it, he defrosted; melted right there in front of her as the walls he'd been trying to hold up crumbled, and already that felt like a relief because it took a hell of a lot of energy for him to hover anywhere further south than the realm of love for her.

"Yeah." he said with a wistful sigh. "Yeah, Ray. We can do this."

And then with softness on his face and sadness in his eyes, he reached out and pulled her chair a little closer to his and motioned for her to sit down; and in that moment Rayna knew that although things weren't quite right between them, they weren't wrong anymore and yes, they could do this.

Rayna sat down and turned on the charm as she addressed the expectant audience, and Deacon quietly marveled (as he always had) at her stage presence and electric energy that unfailingly drew everybody in. That was what had shot her to stardom at the beginning and had kept her there ever since, and he was nothing but proud that he was hitched to her beautiful wagon - even though he knew she'd never let him say anything so modest out loud.

The crowd clapped and cheered in anticipation of their first song, and Deacon glanced at Rayna.

"Rivers?" he asked her quietly, and perhaps she didn't even realise, but she gave a tiny flinch before she nodded in assent.

By the time they hit the first chorus, the world around had gone all blurry and they were the only two in focus. By the end of the song, they'd disappeared headfirst into one another and they wouldn't have noticed if they were singing to one person or one million.

Each song after that was like tugging on a rope, pulling them closer and closer, and from barely being able to look at one another at the start of the evening, now it was impossible for them to look away. At the end of their last song, the enthusiastic response from an enthralled audience suddenly brought Rayna back to the surface of reality, and for a fleeting moment she was surprised to find that she was sitting in front of a room full of people.

Quickly regaining her composure, she plastered a big smile on her face as she called out, "Happy anniversary, Hank and Emmy! All the love in the world to you!"

"Wait!" Emmy cried out from the front table. "You haven't done my favourite song!"

Rayna raised her eyebrows in question, although her stomach had already dropped in knowing.

"You gotta do No One Will Ever Love You! Come on! That's the ultimate love song!"

"Is there a hint there in that song, Emmy?" deadpanned Hank, next to her.

Emmy smacked his arm good-naturedly. "Darned straight there is. And don't you ever forget it!" Then she looked back to Rayna pleadingly. "Please?"

Rayna swallowed hard. She'd been hoping that they could get away without performing that number, but Emmy looked like she'd campaign for it if she had to.

Then Deacon tapped her thigh and leaned into his microphone.

"Saving the best for last, weren't we, Ray? Can't leave that one out."

Reminding herself that she was still the public face of Rayna Jaymes, she raised a brow and a fake smile. "Alright… I guess we can manage that one last song – just for you, Emmy and Hank."

Then the crowd whooped and cheered so loud that it drowned out Rayna's ragged breath in the microphone.

As always with that goddamned song they were drawn right into one another as everything else faded away, turned to shadows. The lyrics were beautiful and haunting and many of them just as true as when they had first penned them, old memories resurfacing and old wounds reopening.

When the last note rang out, Rayna felt Deacon squeeze her hand, but she couldn't meet his gaze and instead thanked the audience and quickly resheathed her microphone. Their performance – but especially that song – had left her feeling all inside out and she was really glad that she had an excuse to get out of there.

As she left the stage, Hank and Emmy were on her in a second, full of effusive thank yous and hugs, and then a handful of people that she hadn't had a chance to talk to yet descended upon her. With one eye on the clock, Rayna quietly conceded that she could spare twenty minutes before hitting the road and putting this night behind her.

The group that Rayna had been standing in slowly dropped away and she found herself in conversation alone with Emmy at the bar when Hank dragged Deacon over. She wasn't proud of herself for avoiding him after their set, but her feelings had gone haywire and she didn't even know how to start sorting through this tangled mess of theirs, least of all in public. All she wanted was a minute, a damned minute, to get her head on straight and she was counting on the solo journey home to be able to do that.

But now Hank was all whiskey-effusive as he dropped an arm around Rayna's shoulders and ran his hand through his shock of salt and pepper hair. "Now tell me - what is the secret to the magic between the two of you?! You're really something else, y'know that? My mama would have loved every second – she'd always said that seeing the two of you perform ruined her for anything else! Gotta agree with her. Nothing compares to that! Right. I'm getting another drink. Rayna, we got a mulled wine that will toast your socks right off, and Deac, there's club soda with any twist you fancy if-"

Just then, The Way You Look Tonight came on over the speakers, and Emmy let out a loud squeal.

"Hank! You gotta dance with me!"

Dropping his head back, Hank let out a loud groan, but Emmy was having none of his protests.

"Henry James Howard! This is our wedding song and you will get your butt on the dancefloor with me right now!"

Despite his dramatic eyeroll, it was easy to see that Hank was glowing as he took his wife's hand and led her to the middle of the dancefloor, where other couples were already swaying and smiling and lost in one another.

Now alone with Deacon at the bar, Rayna shifted uncomfortably and tried to look anywhere but at him, but his eyes were a magnet and she was slowly drawn to them.

"Ray…" he started, his voice warm and low and a little sorrowful.

Suddenly, Rayna felt like she might burst into tears, so she shook her head and gave him a tight smile. "Just gonna shoot to the ladies."

In the bathroom, she propped herself up on the sink and gazed at her face in the mirror as she took a few deep, steadying breaths.

What was going on?

The tension between her and Deacon didn't even top the list of her current biggest problems (her steadily failing marriage was quite strongly at number one), but somehow, he still managed to occupy most of her thoughts and spark up most of her body and toss her wildly along the emotional spectrum like nothing else.

She didn't want that.

Did she?

No, she didn't. Really. She was almost sure that she didn't.

This was why she had been keeping him at arm's length lately. Because she had felt herself turning and looking into the abyss that was her and Deacon. Deep and dark and frightening and tempting. She had hit the bottom before and it was agony. She didn't want to do that again. Didn't know if she could survive it.

But why, why did all roads seem to lead back to him?!

It really was time for her to get out of here. This place had her feeling removed from her life and the songs they sang had weaved a cloak of old feeling and enchantment and Christmas had her all upside down and she needed to get back on the road and drive back into her senses.

Feeling frazzled but determined, she headed back out into the bar only to see that Hank and Deacon had swapped places.

With one elbow on the bar, Hank tipped his glass to Rayna as she approached.

"Tried to keep me on the floor for a second round but I needed refueling before I could manage that! So, Emmy wheedled Claybourne into taking my place. I thought that was a great idea. Now I'm not so sure – that guy can really dance! I'm getting a little worried!" laughed Hank as he indicated the dancefloor where Deacon twirled a giggling Emmy around before looping an arm around her waist.

Rayna nodded as she prepared her exiting goodbyes in her head, but for some reason nothing came out of her mouth and all she could do was stand there, transfixed on Deacon.

She knew every inch of him so well. She could describe every mark, every scar, every sweet spot, but still she'd never tire of looking at him.

Then the song ended and Emmy was flushed and beaming, so Hank chucked back the rest of his whiskey and slammed his glass on the bar.

"Right. I'm going back in to sweep her up 'fore he sweeps her away!" he declared with a grin as he lumbered back onto the dancefloor to take his wife in his arms once again.

With a little good-natured ribbing between them, Deacon then patted Hank on the shoulder and started back towards the bar, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as he ducked around the dancing bodies. Glancing up, he stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of Rayna watching him, a misty, faraway expression on her face. His own smile faded and was replaced by something much more contemplative as he stared right back at her.

Then he extended a hand.

Rayna's breath hitched in her chest at the offer of a dance and her head said, no, it's time to go, but her heart was thrumming loud enough to drown it out and she stood frozen for a few seconds that felt like a forever, and then she was moving towards him, weaving her way through the couples until she was close enough to place her hand in his. Rough and warm and familiar.

And then he pulled her slowly but firmly into him with the ease that only intimate knowledge of another can give, and she fitted perfectly against him, just like she always had. Deacon slipped one arm around her waist and held her other hand against his shoulder as they began to sway together, uncertain if either of them were actually breathing, but it didn't feel like that mattered much anyway. They swayed as one and held each other's gaze until Rayna was certain she was about to disappear right into him, then she pressed her body closer to his - home, she thought, home - as she tucked her head against his shoulder, his arm tightening around her in response. She felt Deacon's full-bodied sigh just as much as she heard it as he laid his head on her hair, and then they clung to one another as the world around slipped away.

As the song faded and the world came back into focus, Rayna slowly extricated herself from Deacon's arms, the cold absence of his body stinging immediately.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut in first.

"We did good tonight. Thank you for that."

"Ray, wait."

"I should go. I'll see you back in Nashville."

And then she was turning away from him, her hand still in his until the last.

She was nearly at the bar, at her bag, until she heard,

"Rayna!"

Emmy was at her side now.

"I have a glass of bubbles here for you, come!"

Rayna held a hand up. "No, no, thank you Emmy, none for me."

"Come on, honey, over here with the girls. Got a glass waiting for you!"

"No really, Emmy, honestly. I'm driving."

"Oh honey." Emmy's hand flew to her chest. "No, you ain't."

Rayna shot her an indulgent smile. "I am. I'm heading back down the road now."

"No, really, honey." Emmy linked one arm in Rayna's and led her towards the window and flicked a switch by the casing, lighting up a bulb outside. "You ain't."

All that was to be seen was a flurry of white.

"Oh." breathed Rayna, wide-eyed.

"Yep. Started snowing early evening. Ain't stopped. The bus came by not long ago and took most everyone back to town. If you ain't gone by now, you ain't going nowhere! Anyone who's here now is here for the night, I'm afraid."

It was only then that Rayna realized there were only about 20 people left in the room. When the place had emptied out so much she had no recollection, but she suspected that it had probably happened somewhere during that all-consuming dance with Deacon, where she wouldn't have even noticed if the world itself was burning to the ground.

"Here for the night?" she repeated faintly.

Emmy nodded. "You got a room though, right?"

Rayna shook her head. "No… cancelled it."

"Oh!" Emmy waved a hand at her. "Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that. We can easy sort something out for you. Enough of us here that I'm sure someone'll bunk up and give you a bed!"

Rayna couldn't take her eyes off the whitewashed world outside.

"Guess I'm staying, then."

Emmy beamed at her. "So, how's about that drink, then?"