Deacon, 1990

He woke up with a crick in his neck that hurt almost as bad as the pounding in his head.

It was dark. Rayna was driving.

And she was pissed.

"Where we at?" He mumbled.

"Somewhere in Texas," she gritted her teeth with each word.

"You mad?" he said tentatively, reaching out and putting a hand on her thigh.

"That is the stupidest question I have heard," Rayna said calmly. "And if you want to keep playing guitar with those fingers you best get them off of my leg right now."

Right. He slowly pulled his hand back.

"Baby, I'm really sorry," he started tentatively.

"Deacon," she said quietly. "I missed a chance to open for Garth Brooks last night because you decided to get drunk, get on the wrong bus, and take yourself to Santa Fe. I spent the last 24 hours looking for you, wanting to kill you, hoping to god you weren't dead, and driving all over the damn country and back to find you. I do NOT want to talk to you right now."

Fair enough.

After a few more hours of driving in miserable silence, she pulled into a cheap motel just outside of Dallas, and went in and paid for a room.

When she came back out, Deacon was still sitting in the truck.

Rayna waited impatiently with her arms crossed.

"Thought maybe I had to sleep out here," he said through the open window as he tried to lightened the mood. She just glared at him and stalked off towards room 104.

With a sigh, he climbed out of the truck, grabbed his guitar from the backseat, and went after her.

It was late, after midnight, and she laid down in the twin bed nearest to the wall with her back to him, right in the middle. Point taken. He could have the other.

"Baby, come on," he said softly, laying down next to her anyway. "I'm sorry. I messed up. Don't go to sleep mad at me."

It took him a second to realize she was crying, big silent tears rolling down her face.

Those tears killed him.

Barely 17 years old and he'd put tears like that in her eyes because he couldn't handle his damn liquor one night in a row too many.

"You scared me," she whispered. "I need you to stop drinking so much. I can't be on that stage without you. I don't know how."

He swallowed hard. "I'll do better," he swore, leaning forward and kissing her tears away. "And I'll make it up to you, that Garth Brooks show. I swear."

Rayna didn't look too convinced.

"You have to admit, it's kinda funny though," he teased. "God, you shoulda seen my face when I looked out the bus window and saw cactuses instead of pine trees."

She swatted at his shoulder. "Deacon Claybourne, what in god's name am I going to do with you?"

"Write a song with me?"

"It's late, and it's a long way back to Nashville tomorrow," she murmured. "I'm so tired."

"I'll write one for you then."…..

################################

Landon, 2016

They'd been driving for hours.

Well, technically he had been driving. His passenger had said nothing and stared out the window until she finally gave in and closed her eyes somewhere around Tucson. It was clear she wasexhausted, and he wasn't surprised, given that Cash had probably been dragging her all over the country for who knows how loved his sister, but her judgement had a tendency to be questionable.

Everything about this situation was wrong. He didn't know what in god's name he'd been thinking, offering to drive this girl halfway across the damn country when he could have bought her a plane ticket home. Something about her made him simultaneously wanted to get as far away from her as possible, and lock her up in a room somewhere before the industry ate her alive.

Girls like Maddie Claybourne were dangerous in more ways than he wanted to think about. They made you care without even trying.

And then they made you write songs about them.

I should have just put her on a damn plane, he thought, cursing himself as he pulled into a truck stop.

"You want something to eat?" He asked, and he leaned over to poke her awake.

"I'm not hungry," she rubbed her eyes. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere in New Mexico. Gotta get gas."

He brought her a burger and a soda when he came back anyway, shaking the raindrops off the faded baseball cap he wore. "Don't be stubborn. You gotta eat, right?" he said as he shoved a paper takeout bag in her direction.

"Thanks," she said begrudgingly.

Maddie watched partly disgusted and partly impressed as he practically inhaled two burgers and a large container of fries before she'd gotten halfway through hers.

"Did you taste that at all?"

"Not much," he reached for her soda without even asking and took a big gulp. "So Sony offered you a record deal, huh?"

She stared at him. "Did Cash tell you that?"

"No. I googled you."

Maddie narrowed her eyes.

"I'm kidding. Cash told me."

"Yeah well, lot of good it does me," she muttered. "My mom turned it down." She shook her head. "That was my dream. And she shot it down without even asking me."

His eyes shadowed a little. "Maybe she just wants what's best for you. Moms do that, you know."

She thought she saw something there in his eyes for a second. Pain, maybe, but it quickly faded.

"She wants to keep me a little girl forever."

"How old are you anyway?" He asked finally.

"Old enough."

"For what, buying lottery tickets?" He raised his eyebrows,

Maddie felt her face redden a little.

"I'll be seventeen in a month," she said defensively. "How old are you?"

"Too old for you," he responded.

"23." She said with a smirk.

"Good guess. Or googling."

"Google doesn't give anything away about Landon Hayes except that you like to write number one songs and disappear."

"Good. I like it that way."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Guess I don't like answering to anybody much."

"People don't hide unless they have something to hide from. Or someone."

"Or maybe," he said, a crooked grin crossing his face, "they just don't want to be bothered when they're working on new music."

Maddie looked unconvinced.

"So tell me, Maddie Rae, since you're all about the tough questions...Why you want to do this on your own so bad?" Landon asked. "Your mom owns one of the biggest labels in the industry. Your dad is a freakin' legend. Why are you not taking their help?"

"Maybe I just want to do it my own way," Maddie said, sticking her chin out.

"There's doing it your own way," he agreed. "And there's doing it the dumb way. Which is not taking help when people offer it. Especially in the music industry. I mean…I get it. But it's still dumb."

Maddie gave a short laugh. "If my parents had their way I'd be 35 before they let me near a stage."

"So you're going to go back to Nashville, not go back home, and then what?" He challenged. "What's your plan?"

"I don't know yet," she said, getting defensive.

"I'd say you have about 18 hours of highway to figure it out."

She glared at him. "You know it was your brilliant idea to drive me back. If you changed your mind just say so. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"No inconvenience," he muttered as he started the truck again. "It's only 2000 miles and setting foot in a city I haven't seen in five years."

She gave him an odd look. "Five years? Your dad and sister live there. You never go back?"

"You know what," Landon said calmly. "I think this travel arrangement isn't such a good idea. We're gonna stop in Dallas and get you on a flight home."

"You know what," Maddie echoed, her temper flaring. "Don't even bother." She opened the truck door and climbed out. Stomped off in the pouring rain.

"What in the hell are you doing." He asked as he rolled down the window, driving next to her. "Get back in the truck. If your mama and daddy find out I left you in godforsaken nowhere New Mexico, my music career is over." He was only half kidding.

Maddie kept walked with her head up, even with the rain beating down on her like daggers.

"You know, if you don't want people to treat you like a little kid, you shouldn't act like one."

"You have no right to judge me, you have no idea what it's like!"

"I know what it's like to be living in a Nashville parking lot, sleeping in your car and working for tips because you're too damn stubborn to admit you're wrong," he said, his voice growing louder. "I know what it's like to be rejected on stuff you've put your heart and soul into. You think you're ready to handle that?"

"Leave me alone, Landon. Go back to California or Austin, or wherever you hide. I'll figure it out on my own."

He could see by the look on her face, she was about at her breaking point, nevermind the fact that she was absolutely soaked to the skin, her wet hair hanging around her face and thin tshirt and jeans she wore drenched through.

Landon threw the truck into park and swore out loud as he watched her disappear around the corner of the truck stop. Where the hell she thought she was going, he had no idea.

He sat there parked for five minutes, waiting to see if she came back. When she didn't, he reluctantly tossed his hat on the seat next to him and climbed out of the truck to look for her.

Damn this girl, he thought, as he found her sitting on a picnic table in the rain shivering, her arms across her chest. He sat down next to her.

"Go away," she muttered.

"I'd like to," he said calmly. "But I can't."

"Get back in the truck, Maddie," he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Sitting out here getting wet ain't doing either of us any good."

Mistake on his part. As soon as he touched her, she started to cry. Big crocodile tears on her face, rain mixing with tears dripping off her chin. Completely lost.

He knew that feeling. He'd been there.

"Aw, come on now," he said, as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. They were both soaked now.

"You've only known me for a day and a half," she sniffled, echoing his earlier words. "You have no idea what I can handle."

"Then show me. Go back to Nashville and show us all."

Maddie gazed up at him. Landon Hayes had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, and they stood out bright against the grayness of the day around them. He was a little too close, maybe, a little too….something, because she was having a hard time breathing again, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was soaking wet and freezing cold. She felt like the world was moving in slow motion. "Why do you even care?" she whispered.

He couldn't find the right words to answer. He didn't know why.

"Thanks for not giving up on me," Maddie murmured. Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Then she stood up and started back towards the truck.

Feeling all kinds of conflict stirring up in his gut, Landon watched her walk away.

It wasn't the first time he'd thought maybe he was the one thatneeded to walk away. From all of this. This girl, that city, this industry where it stopped being about the music and became about the money as soon as you got that first #1 hit.

Finally, with a long deep sigh, he stood up and followed.

He couldn't walk away when he'd just told her not to.

Karma sure had its way of coming back around.

Maddie got in the backseat, to his amusement, among both their guitar cases and random piles of junk that had a tendency to collect back there when he was on the road, which was more often than not.

Maybe its safer that way, he thought silently. He watched in the rearview mirror as she pulled on a stray sweatshirt and used her fingers to try to untangle her hair, then wrestled open her guitar case in the small space. It didn't matter what kind of crazy mixed up emotions she was stirring up, she was still sixteen years old and as innocent as the day was long.

"You mind if I play while you drive?" Maddie asked, strumming a few notes.

"Nah," he cleared his throat. "I don't mind that at all."

"Good," she smiled. "I think I have an idea for a song."

"I got a couple too. Maybe you can write em down while I get us there. Guess we're stuck with each other, might as well make the best of it, huh?" he said lightly.

"Yeah," Maddie met his eyes in the mirror. "Guess so."

Only 1000 miles to go, he thought silently.

What would happen when they hit that Tennessee border, only god knew.