Rayna was looking over the menu when Tandy blew into the restaurant. She raised her head up and smiled at her sister as Tandy gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then sat across from her.
"Sorry I'm late, but Daddy had some super important contract he just had to review with me," she said, flashing a smile. "Of course, all it really was was him wanting to see just what I would tell him about what you were up to."
Rayna pretended to look shocked. "I can't even imagine Daddy doing something like that," she said, with a wink. "I do hope you told him you had no idea what I was up to."
Tandy wrinkled her nose and smiled. "Well, there was nothing I could really tell since you haven't told me what you've been up to. Except that I know you were out of town." She leaned across the table and peered closely at her sister. "You do look like you got some sun."
Rayna grinned. "Teddy surprised me with a trip to the beach. Actually all of us. And I had a spa day." She laughed. "It was really lovely and the girls had such fun."
Tandy reached across the table and squeezed Rayna's hand. "I'm so glad you had fun," she said. "That Teddy really is the sweetest."
Rayna raised an eyebrow at her sister, then nodded. "Well, yes, I guess he is." She sighed. "I think I hadn't really…appreciated how very thoughtful he can be."
"He loves you, sweetheart. He adores you and the girls. He'd do anything for you."
Rayna looked away for a second, making a little face, then looked back. "Tandy, I'm already married to the man. We have two daughters. You don't have to convince me now."
Tandy shrugged. "It never hurts to be reminded that your man takes good care of you." She picked up her menu and pretended to look it over. "Especially when you brought your old boyfriend back into your band."
Rayna rolled her eyes. "Tandy, that's been five years ago."
"I know." She glanced up at Rayna. "But he's still around. I don't blame Teddy for not liking it."
"Look, I came to lunch to have a nice time with my sister. Not hear about how much you don't like my bandleader choices."
Tandy looked up, an innocent look on her face. "I'm all for having a nice time, babe," she said, with a smile.
She really wished Tandy hadn't brought up Deacon. The vacation had helped her to refocus on how good a husband Teddy was and now she couldn't stop thinking about Deacon. She wondered what he was doing, how he was. If he was thinking about her.
~nashville~
After the second set at the Blue Bell in Plainview, Texas, the band members packed up their gear and moved it to the bus. They were staying in the adjacent Blue Bell Court Motel for the night before heading to Amarillo. Annabelle had whispered to Deacon to join her back at the bar when they were done packing up the bus, so he waved off the rest of the guys and headed back inside.
Annabelle was sitting at the bar, swinging one foot back and forth, chatting up the bartender. He watched her as she dipped a celery stick into some kind of dressing, taking small bites. Her hair was in loose waves halfway down her back and he thought about how he'd tangled up his fingers in that the day before. He took a deep breath and walked over to the bar stool next to hers.
Her eyes lit up when she saw him and she smiled. "Hey, y'all all done?" she asked, turning towards him.
He nodded. "Yeah."
She turned to the bartender. "I'd like a shot of Jack and my friend here will have a…." She looked at him, with her eyebrows raised.
He shook his head. "Just club soda," he said to the bartender, who walked off to get their drinks.
She looked surprised. "Really?" she asked.
He hopped up on the stool and faced her, resting his boot on the bottom rail of her stool, in between her feet. He looked at her a minute. "I'm an alcoholic," he said. "Been sober almost six years."
"Really." She looked closely at him. "I'm impressed. Six years." He nodded. The bartender came over with the shot of whiskey and the club soda. She looked over and pushed back the shot glass. "I'll just have a club soda too."
"You don't gotta do that."
She turned to look at him. "Yeah, I do." She smiled and leaned a little forward, running her hand over his thigh. "I don't want you to taste whiskey when you kiss me."
"It really ain't a big deal," he said, breathing in. Actually it was a big deal and he found himself impressed that she understood that it was.
She nodded. "Yeah, it is. If you've worked this hard to stay sober, I don't want to tempt you." She winked. "At least not tempt you with alcohol."
They hadn't stayed at the bar long before Annabelle led Deacon to her room. As she unlocked the door, she'd looked back at him with a smile on her face. "You should probably not waste the money on your own room anymore," she said.
He laughed out loud and let her pull him inside the room, shutting the door behind them.
They were lying in bed, wrapped up in the sheets, Annabelle curved into him and his arm around her. He nuzzled her neck, thinking how much he liked her slightly spicy scent. And her creamy soft skin. And the way she giggled like a school girl when he touched his tongue just behind her ear. She sighed deeply.
"What's it like being on a big arena tour?" she asked, her voice wistful.
"Like this, except for more people," he said.
She was quiet for a minute. "I find that hard to believe," she said finally. "You've got, what, fifteen, twenty thousand people paying good money to hear you perform? Quite a bit different from playing to, if you're lucky, a hundred."
He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "You know, I started out at places like the ones we're at. Not really all that long ago." He kissed her shoulder. "We were just happy people wanted to hear us."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm happy people want to hear us. I'm happy I get to sing in front of them. This was my dream from the time I was a little girl." She sighed again. "But I have bigger dreams, you know? And I wonder if I'll ever get to live them."
He worked his lip for a minute. He didn't really want to talk to her about Rayna, but he wanted to give her hope. "You know, Rayna thought the same thing. I still remember her wondering if she'd ever make it. But she did. You can too."
Annabelle rolled over to face him, laying her hand on his arm. "But it didn't really take her all that long. I mean, she was opening for people like George Strait when she was, what, twenty?" She lowered her eyelids a bit. "I'm older than that."
He smiled at her. "Not much older," he said.
She ran her thumb over his skin. "And she was a lot more talented than me," she said quietly.
He breathed in. He knew talent wasn't always involved, although Rayna was and, truthfully, so was Annabelle. "She was in the right place at the right time. Sometimes it's a little bit of luck."
"Yeah, but you know" – she put her hand on his chest and looked up at him – "truth is, I'm not gonna get there with Sixwire. Don't get me wrong, I love all these guys, but they've been playing together a long time and they're still in the same place. And they like it. I just, well, I just want more."
He pulled her closer and kissed her on the forehead. He couldn't help but think how much she sounded like Rayna, back before she'd gotten her break. "Just keep working at it," he said softly. "It'll come." She looked up at him, a hopefulness in her eyes. He leaned down to kiss her, pulling her even closer to him and pushing aside the sheet that covered them.
~nashville~
Rayna and Teddy sat, holding hands, while Maddie serenaded them with all the songs she'd learned in kindergarten. She had announced, at dinner, that she was going to be doing a concert in the den. She had gone to her room and then come back wearing her cowgirl outfit, complete with a white cowgirl hat and her red boots, decorated with white hearts and flowers.
As she listened to her daughter's little girl voice, still childish but surprisingly clear and in tune, she could scarcely breathe. Teddy squeezed her hand and smiled and she smiled back, but as she looked at Maddie, she wondered what the future might hold for her daughter. Until now, she hadn't really thought about the fact that Maddie's legacy was to be an artist. But music was in her blood, as surely as her and Deacon's blood flowed through her.
When Maddie had finished and curtsied, Rayna and Teddy clapped enthusiastically. "You were wonderful, sweet girl!" Rayna cried, pushing back her apprehensions and smiling at her daughter.
Maddie ran over, excitement all over her face. "I wanna be just like you, Mama, when I grow up," she announced. "I want to sing on stage and I want Deacon to play guitar for me."
Rayna could feel Teddy tense up. She swallowed hard and put a smile on her face. "Well, sweetie, you have a long way to go before you'd be ready for that. You still have school and then college and then we'll see." She wasn't sure she wanted either of her daughters to deal with the business side of performing. Things had changed a lot since she'd gotten started in the business and she wanted to protect them as long as she could. She certainly had no intentions of exposing them to that before they finished college.
Maddie frowned and stomped her foot. "But I don't wanna wait," she whined. She looked at Teddy. "Tell her, Daddy. Tell her to let me sing!"
Rayna looked at Teddy. He looked a little annoyed, but he smiled at Maddie. "Honey, your mama's right. You need to be all grown up before you decide what you want to do with your life." Maddie opened her mouth and he went on. "If you still want to sing when you're all grown up, we can talk about it then."
Maddie seemed to consider that. Her frown melted away. She leaned into Teddy, putting her arms around his neck. "You promise?" she asked, pouting a little.
Teddy laughed, seeming to relax, and he smiled at Rayna. "Yes," he said, looking back at his daughter. "I promise. Now you need to go get into your pajamas and get in bed. We'll be back in a minute."
They watched Maddie run out of the room and then heard her footsteps as she ran up the stairs. Rayna turned to Teddy. "She's not going to even think about that until after she finishes college. I promise."
Teddy gave her a tight smile. "Oh, I know," he said.
She raised her eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. She didn't like his tone.
"Just that I think minimizing her time out on tour with you is a good thing." His eyes narrowed a bit. "Plus it limits his ability to fill her head with ideas."
She frowned then. "Deacon doesn't fill her head with ideas, Teddy. All he does is play the guitar while she sings."
He shook his head. "I still don't think it's a good idea to have him around her, Rayna. Just remember, he's an alcoholic."
She huffed. "Oh, I do know that, Teddy. And he's sober. He's been sober for almost six years."
He stood up then. "I think you let him get too close to her, Rayna," he said. "And my advice is to rethink that." Then he turned and walked out of the room.
She sat back against the couch, her arms crossed, fuming. Then, in an instant, the anger turned to sadness, as she felt the tears in her eyes. She didn't like fighting about Deacon. She wanted Teddy to get over his jealousy or irritation or whatever it was, when it came to Deacon. She wished it was easier to co-exist with Deacon, that all the history between them didn't complicate things so much. She wished she didn't have to work so damn hard to put all that history and all those feelings into a little box so that she could survive every day.
She missed him.
~nashville~
They were sitting at the bar in Liberal, Kansas, just across the border from the Oklahoma panhandle. This had become their routine, on nights when they weren't riding the bus overnight to the next gig. They both had club sodas and shared a plate of nachos. Actually, he ate most of the nachos and she nibbled, still too wired with post-show adrenaline to eat much. They were halfway through the six week tour he'd agreed to do and Steve had asked him to stay on a couple weeks past that. He had agreed, realizing he wasn't quite ready to give up the low key vibe or the woman sitting next to him. It had brought back mostly good memories of the years when he and Rayna did the same thing, traveling from small town to small town, occasionally hitting the smaller cities or the outskirts of major city, playing in bars and listening rooms and other small venues. In many ways, playing at the Bluebird reminded him of this, being close to the people and doing it really just for the love of the music.
"Penny for your thoughts," Annabelle said.
He realized he'd been lost in thought. He shook his head and smiled ruefully. "Sorry. I was thinking about when I first got started. Played a lot of places like this."
"You and Rayna."
"Yeah," he said. "But before that too. I started by playing in Memphis." He grinned. "I was too scared at first to try Nashville."
"Really. That surprises me." She took a sip of her club soda. "So tell me what it was like."
He looked around the bar where they'd played that night. "A lot like this. A lot of places where people were more interested in playing pool or getting drunk than listening to someone up on stage."
"When did you go to Nashville?"
"I was seventeen. I started out singing with my sister, but she decided to stay back in Natchez, where I'm from, with her boyfriend. So I finally decided to try Nashville on my own."
"And did you meet Rayna right away?"
He shook his head. "Nah. It was a couple years before I met her." He turned on his stool so he was facing toward the bar, hoping to head off this conversation. He could see himself in the mirror behind the bartender, as well as Annabelle. He thought about why he was with her. She was young, younger even than Taylor, the same age he was when he went to rehab the first time. The same age as Rayna when she got her first platinum record. Annabelle was fun, though. She made him forget all the things he'd left behind in Nashville. She helped him clear his mind.
"Tell me about her."
He looked at her and shook his head. "No."
She sighed. "Not about that. About her career. How'd she get started?"
Reluctantly at first, he told her about how Rayna had started out, doing open mics. How the two of them had been paired up by Watty White and started writing songs together. He shared how hard it was for Rayna to get someone to listen to her demos, until she met Dan Eagle, who was starting Edgehill Records. He talked about life on the road and working hard to finally make it, hoping to encourage Annabelle not to give up on her dreams, the way Rayna hadn't given up on hers.
When he stopped talking, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks. That makes me feel like maybe it's not hopeless for me."
He turned to look at her. "It ain't never hopeless," he said. "But sometimes all the hard work in the world won't get it. You gotta be prepared to fail. But there's value in the trying. Just remember, if you really love the music, that's what matters." He got up from the stool then and held his hand out to her. She took it and together they walked out of the bar.
~nashville~
Rayna walked up to her music room. She hadn't been here in a while. With touring and then taking some time off, she hadn't needed it. When she and Teddy had built this grand house, it was the only thing that was on her must have list. They had a magnificent kitchen, because Teddy thought she would want one, but she felt a little like a fish out of water in a kitchen so the magnificence was a little lost on her. The master bedroom was a dream suite, the bedroom itself oversized to accommodate a sitting area, along with a spa-like master bath and a closet fit for the Queen of Country Music. There was a pool and a pool house, which was basically a guest house, complete with a kitchen and small bedroom. But the music room was for her.
She pushed open the frosted glass French doors and just stood there, taking it in. It had leather couches and deep, comfortable club chairs, along with a long, low coffee table that had reminded her of the one she and Deacon had in the East Nashville bungalow, all ideal for both songwriting and listening to demos and record tracks. Her album covers were framed and hung on the walls, along with her gold records and her magazine covers. Her Grammys and CMA's and ACM's were all displayed.
There were two vintage guitars on stands, one a Martin, the other a Gibson, that were more for show than for playing. An autoharp sat on its stand. She had an old record player as well as CD players along one wall. And there were plenty of notepads and pencils all around the room.
She walked over to the couch and sat down. At first she just perched on the edge, but then she reached for a notepad and a pencil and she moved to the corner of the couch, leaning back against the cushion, her knees bent. She drew stars and flowers and circles on the page. Her mind was a blank. She groaned in frustration. Songwriting was hard. It was tough to sit down and say I want to write a song and then have one flow through her hand to the page. Her best songwriting had been with Deacon. He inspired her. She loved the give and take, the ebb and flow, the way the words started with him and finished with her, or vice versa. All alone, it took more effort.
The song that had come the easiest to her, when she had written by herself, was 'The Best Songs Come From Broken Hearts'. That had come from the pain of breaking up with Deacon that last time and she had written it in less than an hour, all in a rush. When she and Deacon had tried writing again, it had come so easily, as though they'd never stopped. Her eyes lit on the CMA award for 'The Rivers Between Us'. It had skirted the edges of what was personal for them and that was what scared her about writing with him. Songwriting had been all mixed up with love and sex for them and it would have been too easy to get caught up in that again.
She put down the notepad and walked over to the windows that overlooked the pool. It was winter, so they didn't go out there now, but she thought about how Teddy would spend time with Maddie out there in the summer. He'd stand in the pool and let her jump into his arms, squealing and laughing. He'd taught her to swim, hovering close by as Maddie dogpaddled in the shallow end. Teddy had taught her to ride a bike and listened intently as Maddie debated Barbie versus Midge and their clothing choices.
She breathed in deeply. She had sort of loved Teddy when she married him, told herself – and him – that she did. Certainly she had liked him, enjoyed his company, appreciated what he brought to the table that set him apart from the frantic, tumultuous, exhausting relationship she'd had with Deacon. She loved that he wanted to protect her and her baby, that he'd made such a sacrifice when he'd asked her to marry him back then. His love for Daphne was undeniable and expected, the kind of love a parent would have for their own child. It was his love for Maddie, the child who wasn't his by blood, that endeared him to her. It was that love, for her child, that made her bury all those complicated, confusing emotions deep down inside when it came to Deacon. It was that love that made her resolve to love her husband better.
She turned and practically ran back to the couch, picking up the notepad and scribbling furiously. She smiled to herself as she wrote, as the words seemed to just land on the page of their own accord. This was what she'd learned all those years, writing with Deacon, that when you stopped and let your mind rest, the words would come. She'd told Teddy once that songs came from many places and sometimes were your own story and sometimes were someone else's, although they always came from your own experiences. This would be her own story, a song, finally, for Teddy.
Seems I was walking in the wrong direction / I barely recognize my own reflection / Oh, scared of love but scared of life alone
Seems I've been playing on the safe side, baby / Building walls around my heart to save me / Oh, but it's time for me to let it go
Yeah I'm ready to feel now / No longer am I afraid of the fall down / It must be time to move on now / Without the fear of how it might end / I guess I'm ready to love again….
~nashville~
The bus rolled over something and Deacon was jostled awake. He'd been in a deep sleep and his heart was racing as he blinked rapidly, disoriented for a moment. They were on their way from Oklahoma City to Albuquerque. He shook his head over the sling shot kind of travel routes they were taking. Too many overnights on the bus for him, reminiscent of the early days when he and Rayna did the same thing. It made him grateful for how carefully Bucky and Rayna's tour manager planned her tours.
As he lay there in the dark and his breathing normalized, his thoughts went to Annabelle, back in the back of the bus. He wouldn't sleep back there, not that much sleeping would probably go on if he did. He smiled to himself. She loved to please him, something he couldn't deny made her even more attractive. Sharing a motel room was one thing, but he wouldn't stay the night in her quarters on the bus. Mainly, it was because he didn't want, or need, additional ribbing from the rest of the guys in the band. But also because it reminded him too much of Rayna.
This tour was supposed to help him see a different path, a way to create appropriate separation between him and Rayna. It had, and being with Annabelle helped, but he was trying not to repeat memories.
They had both been a little in shock, that day they stood in the parking lot at Sound Check and looked at the big touring bus with Rayna's name emblazoned on the side. As he had with the travel trailer they'd used when it was just the two of them, Watty had fronted the money for this bus. It was not new – refurbished – but it meant the band could travel with them.
"Wow, babe," Rayna said. "I can't believe it. Our own bus."
He smiled down at her. "Your bus, baby. The rest of us, we're just along for the ride."
She made a face and bumped her hip against his. "That's not true." Then she let go of his arm and ran for the bus steps. "Come on, babe, let's check it out!"
She scampered up the steps and he hurried over and followed her in. He stood at the front of the bus as she ran down the aisle. It was pretty standard – a small kitchenette, bathrooms, a couple tables with bench seats in the front, three levels of bunks down the middle. Rayna was already in the back, opening up the door that led to the artist's suite. One day he knew she hoped to have her own bus with a more glamorous sleeping suite, but for now, this would do.
She turned to him with a smile. "Oh, Deacon, this is amazing! Come look!" she called out and he hustled down the aisle as she disappeared into the suite.
She was lying on the bed, which pretty much filled up the whole space, when he walked in and he grinned, watching her with her eyes closed, a look of sheer joy on her face. He flopped down next to her and she opened her eyes and laughed. "Your own suite, baby," he said. "You'll be the queen bee."
She screwed up her face. "You're gonna be in here too," she said.
He breathed in, then shook his head. "I don't know about that," he said. "The whole band's gonna be right outside."
She grinned. "Oh, don't be silly, Deacon. It's not like they don't know we're together. And I trust them."
He smiled back at her. "It ain't about trust, baby." She looked puzzled. "It's just that you, well, you know. You're kinda, um, boisterous."
She gasped and swatted his arm, sitting up. "I am not!" she cried, looking down at him, her eyes flashing.
He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows, a smile playing around his mouth. "Oh, yeah, baby. You most definitely are."
She opened her mouth and then closed it, blushing a little. "Well," she said, and then she breathed out in a whoosh. She looked down at him again and winked. "Well, I guess you'll just have to make sure to cover my mouth then, won't you?"
He laughed out loud and reached for her, pulling her down into his arms. She laughed with him until his lips found hers and then she let herself relax against him and he rolled her onto her back and then they broke in the new artist's suite.
He breathed in deeply. His phone buzzed. You awake? He looked at the message and decided not to answer. He found texting hard anyway and mostly avoided it. And he didn't really want the distraction, not tonight. He went to his contacts and scrolled down to Rayna's name. He wondered what she was doing. Sleeping, at that very moment, he was sure, but what had this break meant for her? Had it given her what she needed? What would things be like when he got back to Nashville?
He closed his eyes, trying not to think about those things, about her. The bus had settled back into a steady rhythm and before long he'd fallen back asleep.
~nashville~
Rayna sat at the park on an unusually warm day in mid-February. Maddie and Daphne were in the sandbox, playing together companionably for once. As much as Maddie loved "my baby", she also often felt disinclined to play with "a baby". And Daphne, being the little sister who idolized her big sister, would howl with displeasure when Maddie left her behind.
But they were playing well together at the moment, Maddie helping Daphne pack sand in her bucket and then turn it over. She even laughed when Daphne batted the sand around with her hands.
Rayna smiled, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses. This time off had been nice. In ten days they'd be back in rehearsal, then hitting the road in late March. Without a new album to support, there weren't many new songs for the band to learn, mostly just getting back into sync with each other.
She thought about Deacon then. She hadn't talked to him, or seen him, in close to four months. She'd stopped by the Bluebird one Thursday night, against her better judgment, only to find out he was on hiatus. Touring with some friends. It seemed like he was taking the break to heart and it was surprisingly unsettling. She wondered if he was back in town yet.
She pulled out her phone and tapped it for a moment. True, she had stayed busy and spent time with her girls, as well as spending quality time with Teddy, throwing herself into that relationship. She and Teddy had grown closer and she felt they were working together well. She appreciated his strength and the fact that he was so steady, and she felt as though she had fed off that. She felt stronger too, more in control of her heart and her mind and her emotions. Teddy was a good man, with a good heart, and he'd proved that to her over and over again….
But she still missed Deacon, she had to admit to herself. More than she should. She opened her phone and scrolled down to his name. She wavered, hesitated. Then Daphne's cry of displeasure broke the mood and she closed her phone, throwing it back into her purse and getting up to check on her daughters.
"Aw, Daphne, sweet girl, what's wrong?"
~nashville~
They were headed back to Houston after the show. That was where Deacon would wrap up and fly back to Nashville. Annabelle had been quieter the last few days, giving a hundred percent on stage, but pensive and introspective off. He understood. They hadn't really talked about what happened after this was over. Hadn't talked about whether anything would happen after this was over.
He'd felt a lot of things while he'd been with Annabelle. The sex had been amazing, more, really, than he could have asked for. Annabelle was a playful, almost insatiable lover, but she was generous and loving in return. She'd made him forget the pain of wanting Rayna, at least for a while. They had said in the beginning that it would be casual, or at least he had said so. But over the last few days he'd found her to be a touch more needy, a little more questioning of what was next. And he'd had no answers, or none he'd wanted to give, but he knew he had to be honest with her.
As always, he came back into the bar after they'd loaded the bus. Instead of staying the night, they were headed back and would arrive in Houston early morning. As always, she was sitting at the bar, two club sodas in front of her. He smiled to himself, thinking about how she was thoughtful in that way. He swung up onto the stool and smiled at her. "Last night," he said, picking up his glass and holding it out, as though to toast.
She looked back at him, her eyes moist and sad. She sighed. "I guess you're happy to be getting back to Nashville," she said quietly.
He felt a little ache in his heart at her sadness. "Not for the reason you're thinking," he said. He took a deep breath. "But, you know…."
She put two fingers on his lips to silence him. "Don't. Not yet," she said. "Please."
He hardly slept that night. He let her lead him to the back of the bus, since it was the last night and the last time. He let her set the tone and he willingly followed. He made love to her with an intensity that surprised him. And now he lay sleepless, his mind racing, as he held her against him and she slept.
At some point he'd drifted off, because she woke him when they were about an hour outside Houston. The feathery touch of her fingers slowly brought him back to consciousness. He looked into her eyes, dark in the dusky morning light that peeked through the blinds on the back windows. "Was it real?" she whispered.
He knew what she meant. He reached up and wove his fingers into her hair and then pulled her in as he brushed her lips with his. "Yeah," he said, truthfully. "It was real."
She sighed. Her eyelids lowered as she leaned back in to kiss him again, her fingers trailing down his chest and abdomen. He caught his breath as she closed her hand over him. Her lips moved to his chest and he moaned softly as he let her stroke him, touch him. When he could stand it no longer, he rolled her over and made love to her, with an urgency and a roughness that acknowledged they'd come full circle. He forgot about the other people on the bus, and he was pretty sure she did too, as they satisfied their need.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, when the bus pulled into the lot. Annabelle sat up, pulling the sheet around her. He could hear her breathing and he knew he needed to say something, but he couldn't think of just what.
"I'm really gonna miss you, Deacon Claybourne," she said.
He turned to look at her. Her arms were wrapped around her waist, holding the sheet against her. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were red and damp. "I'm gonna miss you too," he said.
She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "So, what's next?" she asked.
He sighed. "Going back to Nashville. Getting back to work. Getting back to life," he said. He knew that wasn't really what she was asking or what she was hoping to hear. He took a deep breath. "You helped me in a lotta ways, Annabelle. All this kinda helped me get back to normal. Figure out what's important. Get back to the music. I'm grateful…to you."
She smiled sadly. "It's like they say, I guess. The road's not real life or real love. But it was a really good ride."
He stood up and faced her. "Yeah, it was."
He could see tears in her eyes and one rolled down her cheek. She swiped at it, almost angrily. "Hey, travel home safe," she said. "Maybe I'll see you around some time."
He gave her a quick nod. "Maybe you will." Then he let himself out of the room and walked down the aisle, out of the bus. It was time to get back to real life.
The song Rayna writes is Ready to Love Again by Lady Antebellum.
Thanks to all of you who are reading. Special thanks to those reviewing. I love hearing what you think!