It was ridiculous. Rayna had been standing in front of Watty's door for five minutes, unable to ring the bell. It was too late to change her mind now, that envelope wasn't going to disappear, so the sooner they would open it, the sooner she could stop mulling over it and face whatever was coming. The conversation she was dreading the most was the one she might need to have – depending on what the envelope was going to reveal – with the man she'd called her dad her whole life.

She jumped when Deacon appeared behind her, pushed the doorbell, gave her a quick kiss and walked away again. She'd genuinely forgotten for a minute he'd driven her here and was waiting in the truck. He'd told her she should take all the time she needed, but he'd obviously meant once she would be on the other side of the door.

When she saw the handle move, she pulled herself together. "Hey, Watty."

"Hey, Ray, come on in."

"Thanks." She stepped into the wide foyer and waited he'd closed the door to follow him down the hall.

Watty had been living alone in this house for as long as she'd known him. She'd asked him, once, why he'd never settled down, gotten married. "There was only one woman who was gonna make me happy, and I lost her a long time ago," had been his answer. Not in a million years could she have imagined he was referring to her mom. There had never been any rumors, she'd never heard anyone alluding to the fact Watty White and Virginia Wyatt so much as knew each other.

They crossed the house to get to the backyard, and they sat outside in the sun. She noticed the envelope was on the table already.

"You really haven't opened it?" she asked because she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I think it should be you."

She didn't hesitate anymore, she tore it open and skimmed through the letter until she found the paragraph she was looking for. She didn't even had to say it aloud, Watty read it on her face.

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Listen, it doesn't have... to change anything. It's just... biology, you know."

She felt a clutch in her chest. "Is it?" she whispered.

"No, no, no, no, of course not," he retracted, reaching for her hand across the table, "I'm sorry. Truth is I have no idea what's the right way to deal with this." She squeezed his hand back. "Rayna, the day your mother died has been the worst day of my life. After that, I couldn't even grieve publicly because no one knew, because I wasn't supposed to have loved her in the first place. I've spent so many years having to keep this part of my life a secret... I'm not used to be allowed to talk about it."

This broke Rayna's heart. "I'm sorry, Watty."

"What I really want to say is... this is new for me."

Rayna smiled. "Well, this is new for me too. And I don't know if it will be the right way or not, but let's deal with this our way."

Watty nodded. "Okay."

"I've got a million questions," she said, and she did, but all of a sudden, she wasn't sure if she was ready to hear the answers to those yet. And so, she bailed. "But we have this party tonight, and—"

"I know," he was too quick to respond, looking relieved somehow. "We'll talk later, Ray. Whenever you want to." He paused. "There's no hurry."

They got up at once, and Watty accompanied her to the door. She was halfway to the truck when she turned around, strode back to the doorway and hugged him. "I'll see you at the party tonight, right?"

"Of course you will."

—

six weeks later

—

Rayna loved the road. She'd always loved the road. But after months away from home, there was something so satisfying in being able to wake up in the comfort of her own bed every day, being able to know for sure where she was without having to check the tour's schedule.

Shotgun and the success of the tour had put her back in her label's good graces. Marshall Evans wanted her next album to be an entire duet album with Deacon, and both Deacon and she were one hundred percent on board with the idea. It had put her back on the radar of other labels, too. Calista Reeves, president of Countless Records, had outlined a deal which would include her next five records. There was something Rayna wanted, though, something that had been a lifelong dream of hers; she wanted her own label. It felt like the right time to pursue that particular dream. If Marshall Evans was willing to agree on that, she'd decided she would stay at Edgehill.

Rayna stirred awake and turned over to look at Deacon's side of the bed. He was still sound asleep next to her. She lay on her back, considering dozing off again herself. It was their first Saturday back home, and there was no bus to catch, no early radio interview, no tour sponsor to meet.

Her plan got cut short, though, when Daphne knocked on their bedroom's door, not bothering to wait for an answer before barging in. "Aunt Tandy's here!" she announced.

"What? She said she would come over around nine."

"It's nine-thirty, Mom."

Rayna looked at the clock on the nightstand. "Crap," she cursed.

"That's a dollar," her youngest daughter warned as she rushed out of the room again.

Rayna shook Deacon's shoulder. When he didn't move, she shook harder and pulled the covers off him. "What?" he groaned, barely awake.

"Babe, did you turn the alarm off? I'm certain I'd set it up for eight-thirty."

"I didn't," he grumbled, his hand blindly trying to get the covers back.

"Told Tandy she could come over for breakfast, time to get up."

When Rayna came out of the bathroom a moment later, dressed and ready, Deacon had gone back to sleep. She didn't feel like waking him up, so she closed the bedroom's door on her way out and headed for the kitchen. She found her daughters and sister laughing and chatting while in the midst of getting breakfast ready. The glass door leading outside was open, and they'd set the patio table already.

"Look who's here," Tandy exclaimed as she saw her. She pulled her into a hug. "I missed you, sis."

"Missed you too, honey."

"Where's Dad?" Daphne asked as she grabbed a handful of blueberries from a bowl on the counter.

"Still sleeping."

"Can I go wake him up?"

Rayna was about to say no, but Tandy answered first, "You should do that, sweetheart." Rayna threw a half-amused, half-disapproving look at her sister. "What's the fun in having all of you back if I can't mess with my brother-in-law?" Tandy retorted.

"How are you?" Rayna inquired.

"I'm good. Busy, but good."

Rayna cleared her throat. "How's Daddy?"

"He's good, and by that I mean he's doing what he always does, he pretends what happened didn't happen and buries himself in work."

"Has he... mentioned anything to you?"

"What do you think? Of course not. Have you called him since?"

"No."

When Rayna had gone to see him, the day after the party, he'd guessed what it was about. Before she could say anything, he'd waved her off. "We don't need to talk about it," he'd declared, and so they hadn't.

"Do you think it's possible we'll just... never talk about it?" Rayna asked Tandy.

"Honey, if there's one thing this family is good at, it's not talking about things."

—

"You're driving me crazy, girl, all right? I can't put something down two minutes without you washin' it and puttin' it away."

"Sorry."

Scarlett had decreed it was time for a thorough cleaning of the Claybourne household's kitchen and not even Deacon trying to have breakfast was going to stop her. Rayna had been sitting on a stool on the other side of the counter, reading the latest issue of Nashville Scene while also keeping an amused eye on her husband and niece's little comedy act. She'd been wondering when Deacon would finally snap.

"Come here. Sit down," he ordered, grasping Scarlett's shoulders and dragging her to a stool. "Rule number one when a relationship ends, you gotta get out of the damn house. I don't care what you do or where you go, you just cannot sit around here, being lonely, doing... this."

Scarlett had showed up on their porch three days ago, her little beige and brown vintage suitcase in hand, to announce she'd broken up with Avery. They'd assured her she could stay as long as she needed.

"It's your fault, you know," Scarlett complained at Deacon. At that, Rayna looked up. It was no secret Deacon had never been Avery's biggest supporter. She wondered if Scarlett was about to call him on that. "Spent half the night crying because of your set at the Bluebird last evening," her niece said instead. "I'd never realized how sad your songs were before."

"It just seems that way 'cause you're going through a breakup."

"Adria would say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else," Rayna chimed in. This made Scarlett chuckle, but Deacon stared at his wife like he couldn't believe she'd just said this. To their niece. "Or, you know, you... listen to your uncle," Rayna recanted. She cleared her throat, looking back down at her magazine, but smiling to herself.

"I dumped Avery 'cause he went over to that woman's house, knowing full well he might have to sleep with her," Scarlett sighed. "But he didn't. At least, he said he didn't. What if I've just made the biggest mistake of my life?"

"I don't think so, honey," Rayna intervened. Even if she'd never said it aloud because she didn't believe it was her right to, Rayna had always feared Avery's obvious ambition may someday stand in the way of his relationship with Scarlett. Her niece deserved so much better than the way Avery had been treating her lately. "But you know what you should do?"

"What?" Scarlett asked.

Rayna and Deacon looked at each other, then at her. "Write about it," they advised in unison.

—

There were halfway through the bridge when Deacon finally decided to tell Rayna. "Somethin' kinda strange happened this morning. The Revel Kings' manager called to ask if I wanted a job."

Rayna stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"Dubbie is out for a few months, so they want me to fill in for him for the U.S. leg of the tour."

It was the real reason Deacon had asked Rayna to go on that walk. When they'd left the house, he still hadn't decided for sure if he was going to tell her or just decline the offer and forget about it. He knew Rayna would encourage him, but he didn't know if that's what he wanted.

"Shoot! Babe, it's great." She hooked her arm around his as they started walking again.

"Yeah, but it's also... unexpected, and the timing isn't ideal. We've only been back home for three weeks, we're supposed to start working on our album, and I'm not sure I'm okay being away from you and the girls for most of the next four months."

"I'm not okay with that either, babe, but it feels like... a one-time opportunity. Do you want to do it?"

They'd reached an overlook, and they turned left until they were standing at the end of it. Deacon leaned over, his forearms resting on the railing, looking at the river underneath. "Part of me really want to do it, but... I don't know." He paused. "Remember that dive hotel we used to play at in Franklin?"

"Yeah, the Lomax Inn. It was your rock phase."

"Didn't last long, though. My heart belongs to country. It will always belong to country." He slid one arm around Rayna's waist, pulling her to him.

She smiled at that. "It better," she said before she kissed him. "But you know, if you feel like you and rock'n'roll have some unfinished business," she joked, "it might be now or never."

He was quiet for a moment, seemingly considering it. He stared at the Nashville's skyline. "Four months," he said, like he was trying to convince himself.

"Four months," she repeated. "We surely can find a way to make it all work."

—

It was dark when Bucky and Rayna parked in front of Liam McGuinnis' music studio. They'd spent some time driving around until they'd found the right building as neither of them was familiar with the neighborhood.

"Is this really his studio?" Bucky asked when they got out of the SUV. "I'm surprised we didn't get carjacked on our way over here."

"You sound disappointed," Rayna quipped. "Oh, good lord," she cursed as her heel got almost stuck in a crack in the pavement.

"Careful," Bucky warned, offering her a hand so she could regain her balance. He watched their surroundings while Rayna knocked on the building's imposing door. When no one showed up, she tried again, louder and more insistant. Liam McGuinnis finally appeared, looking none too enthused. "Hey."

"Hey! I'm Rayna Jaymes."

"I know who you are," he said, leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.

"Well, great. I, uh... we do have an appointment to talk to you about possibly producing my husband and myself's duet album, right? He's on tour with the Revel Kings at the moment, so it's just me and my manager here tonight," she explained, pointing one finger at Bucky who gave a quick wave.

"Come on in."

Don't Owe You a Thang by Gary Clark Jr. was blasting when they entered, and Liam went to turn the volume down. The studio was cluttered with all kinds of vintage furniture and objects, and Rayna and Bucky found some free space on a vinyl couch in the middle of the room. Liam sat down across from them.

"Listen," he said, "I'm going to be honest here. I don't think we do the same thing with our music. You're... moms and SUVs. That's a language I just don't speak."

Bucky understood why the guy hadn't even bothered to offer them something to drink; he hadn't expected them to stay that long.

"Excuse me?" Rayna objected.

"I mean, no offense."

"Um, okay, can I ask why you agreed on this meeting then?"

"I'm a huge fan of your husband. I was curious."

"Well, I'm a huge fan of my husband too, so that's one thing we have in common," Rayna shot back. "Listen, I feel like you're kinda making a snap judgment about me and my music here. And quite frankly, and respectfully, of course, that is a load of crap." At that, Liam raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I think you might have heard a couple of my hits, and you think you know who I am. That is sort of like if I had judged you without ever hearing that live show you did two years ago in Belfast, for example."

"You heard that?"

"I did hear that. In fact, I heard it in my SUV, which, by the way, has an excellent sound system, driving my daughters to school. They liked it, too."

This appeared to catch Liam's attention. "Why do you want to work with me?"

"My husband and I talked about it, we love your sound. We need someone new for this album. This latest tour we did made me realize how further and further away I'd gotten from why I decided to do this in the first place. I want a fresh start."

Liam got up and came back with a bottle of whiskey. He filled three shot glasses to the brim. "Okay, let's talk then. For real."

—

TBC