Sorry its been so long between chapters, the mind was eager but the body rebelled! Fractured my arm, so made typing very difficult. Think I have finished this story...I think (though l am tempted to do one final chapter dedicated to the lead up to Deacon's surgery).

Rayna looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. The worry of the last couple of months were plainly written on her face. There was a permanent tiredness reflected in her eyes that no amount of sleep could cure. The constant stress had worn her down. To those who didn't know her very well, she came across as business as usual. But Deacon had been able to detect her anxiety. Though to be honest, they were both feeling it and both had been trying to deny its existence. Snorting in disbelief, Rayna guessed she had Candy to thank for outing their secret and in the process making them both own up to what they had been denying to themselves. At least now everyone knew, not only about their relationship, but the fact that Deacon was sick. Though they both could have done without the sickening outpouring of sympathy. It made Rayna feel like everyone had already given up on Deacon. That they had decided it was a foregone conclusion he was going to die. Prior to Beverley's arrival, Rayna had given up on hope but that didn't mean she wasn't going to fight for every minute they had left together.

Shaking her head, Rayna wasn't going to dwell on that now. Deacon was going to survive. Beverley was here now, and it was all going to be okay. This was the mantra she repeated throughout the day. She had to keep repeating that to herself, otherwise she was liable to haul off and fire up at something Beverley said. She was walking on egg shells around her, afraid to say something that Beverley would construe the wrong way and in retaliation withdraw her offer of saving Deacon.

She rinsed her mouth out and as she rose she caught sight of Deacon, reflected in the mirror. He was leaning against the doorframe watching her. Her breath caught in her throat. He never failed to get her heart to skip a beat. Even through all those years apart, every time she caught a glimpse of him, her heart beat would flutter with excitement. She scrunched her face in a grimace as she shrugged her shoulders. He smirked at her as he rolled his eyes. He walked slowly into the room, his eyes never straying from hers. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, he silently watched as she smoothed moisturiser on her arms. She flicked a look his way as she massaged the remaining cream into her hands. His eyes danced with amusement at her. Arching an eyebrow in his direction Rayna purposely ignored him as she returned her focus to the rest of her nightly ritual.

She knew what he was going to say and she honestly didn't want to hear it. She knew that she was being childish but she couldn't help it. Beverley knew how to push her buttons and without fail Rayna always rose to the challenge. Huffing out a breath of disgust at her own behaviour, she viscously pulled her hair out of the tie holding it back. Not daring to look at Deacon again, she knew that he would have a smug look of amusement on his face. With the way she was feeling at the moment, he would be lucky if she didn't slap it off his face. Staring intently at her reflection, Rayna stated,

"Don't you dare say anything!"

Angrily she shut the various draws and cupboards as she tidied up the bathroom cabinet. She could feel Deacon's eyes following her movements, giving her the space she needed to vent her frustration at her inability to rise above Beverley's comments.

Deacon watched as Rayna took her anger out on the various jars and bottles that featured in her beauty regime. He was struggling to not laugh at her, knowing that would just inflame her anger. Shaking his head slightly, he didn't think it was possible to love her anymore but knowing the struggle she put herself through every day since Beverley's arrival deepened his love. He's mind wandered back to the scene earlier this evening. They had all sat down to have a family dinner. The girls had entertained them all with stories about their day at school, cumulating with them giving the adults an impromptu taste of the latest song they were working on. Deacon's heart swelled with love knowing that he was blessed to be able to share in these precious moments with Maddie and Daphne.

Having the girls around had dissipated some of the tension that always rose up whenever Rayna and Beverley spent anytime time together. However the tension between them escalated once the girls went to bed. Rayna had tried to brush off the snide remarks Beverley threw into the conversation and Deacon had tried to steer the conversation into neutral territory. Rayna eventually excused herself and went up to get ready for bed. Deacon had never been able to exactly figure out why they had never gotten along. He had his theories, but if asked neither Beverley or Rayna would be able to say what it was that resulted in them clashing. From the very beginning there was tension between the two.

Deacon and Beverley had first escaped Natchez for Nashville with naïve stars in their eyes. They were convinced they were destined for greatness. Reality was a cold slap to their faces. Deacon quickly realised that they were just another couple of slightly talented performers struggling to survive in this town. He had just turned 18 when he was first introduced to the person who was to come to mean everything to him. In the short amount of time he had been in Nashville, he had earnt a reputation as a good guitar picker. While as an act, he and Beverley struggled, he was able to provide for them both through his talent as a guitar player. Watty White had been after him for a while to check out a new talent he was convinced was destined for greatness. Deacon had finally given in. He was currently sitting in the dark corner in the back of some grungy bar at 4 o'clock in the afternoon waiting to see what all the fuss was about. He barely glanced up as a young girl walked on to stage. He stabbed the melting ice at the bottom of the glass, as his eyes flicked up onto the stage.

His heart went out to the performer. She was clearly nervous as she pushed her hair off her face, while trying to settle the guitar comfortably in her grip. Leaning back in his chair, he chewed on the straw as his eyes raked over her. She looked dangerously young, dressed up like a caricature of a country music performer. Her demin skirt was a modest length, complete with a pair of expensive red cowboy boots. While her checked shirt attempted to hide the voluptuous curves of her body there was no hiding the tantalising allure of her impossibly long legs. Deacon's eyes roamed over her body, tracing the outline of her curves enjoying the image in front of him. She began humming the opening bars of a song he didn't know. Reluctantly he dragged his eyes away from her body to focus on her performance. He winced as she painfully plucked away at the guitar, all the while keeping her eyes focused on the ground in front of her. He could tell she had a lovely voice, even though it was fraught with nerves. There was something about her that demanded attention. Even though she refused to look at the audience there was something about her that caught Deacon's attention.

Raising an eyebrow at himself, he smirked as his eyes hungrily caresses her curves again. Sure her appearance had a certain appeal, but there was more to her than that. She finished her song off and raised her eyes to the few souls who were actually listening to her. Her startlingly blue eyes were framed by a mass of strawberry blonde waves. Those eyes seemed to lock onto Deacon's and never waiver as she thanked the crowd. Deacon's breath caught in his throat. He knew logically that she couldn't see him from the stage, but it didn't lessen the effect she had had on him. He flung down the dregs of the melted ice before pushing up off the stool. He had to find out who she was. He was sure she introduced herself to the audience, but he was too busy ogling her to pay attention.

He tried to push through the small group of men who had congregated to the side of the stage. Deacon caught a glance of Watty through the crowd and made his way towards him, hoping that he would know who the mystery girl was. Finally making his way through the small crowd, Deacon breathlessly greeted Watty. He gave Deacon a fatherly smile as he returned the greeting.

"Did you manage to catch Rayna's performance?"

"Who?"

"Rayna. The girl l told you about…. the one I wanted you to see perform?"

Watty signed and shook his head. Deacon was hugely talented guitar player and had potential as a songwriter, but he was also incredibly frustrating with his lack of commitment. Deacon could be counted on to turn up for his own performance but when it came to the business side of the music industry he was lacking commitment. Watty had warned him that if he wanted a career in this industry he had to be completely focused, but Deacon was convinced that his talent would be enough. Watty reached over and grabbed the hand of the mysterious girl and pulled her through the group of men that had formed around her. She beamed a smile up at him in thanks. She had boundless energy as she regaled to Watty her thanks for allowing her to perform today. Her exuberance was intoxicating and Deacon found himself unconsciously moving closer to her.

"You did well my little songbird. I want you to meet someone. Rayna Wyatt, this is Deacon Claybourne.

"Deacon, this is Rayna."

Deacon was loss for words as he stared at Rayna. This is who Watty wanted him to meet?

"Hi Deacon, its lovely to meet you" Rayna stretched out her hand in greeting. All those years of practise being polite to the country club set helped her maintain her composure in front of this boy Watty wanted her to meet. He was starring open jawed at her, making her feel uncomfortable. She was about to drop her hand, when he reached out and grasped her outstretched hand. She sucked in a shallow breath at the jolt of electricity ricocheting through her body at the touch of his hand in hers. Dragging her eyes up from their conjoined hands, she felt a delicious warmth surge through her as felt herself falling into his blue eyes.

Deacon squeezed her hand, embracing the flutters of sparks her touch gave him. Her eyes were wide with shock as her blue eyes searched his eyes for answers. They were both breathing erratically, struggling to understand their body's reaction to each other.

"Rayna, this was the song writer I was telling you about. I think he will be able to help you find your voice. He is also a very talented guitar player."

Rayna abruptly dropped his hand and turned towards her mentor. Deacon's heart seemed to stop in his chest as he's whole being felt the loss of her. Rayna tried to focus on what Watty was telling her, but her whole body was humming in response to the strange boy next to her. She somehow found herself standing close enough to him to feel the warmth of his body encompass her own. Her breathing was short and shallow, as she nodded up at Watty. She could feel his eyes on her, sending a shiver up her spine. He both entranced her and terrified her.

"Rayna, will you be able to get to the studio tomorrow afternoon?"

"Hu?"

"Tomorrow? Can you be at the studio at 4?"

Licking her lips in nervousness, she glanced over at Deacon before looking back at Watty.

"Yeah, that should be no problem."

She had no idea how she was going to get out of the Country Club event her Daddy expected her to attend, but Rayna knew that she needed to see Deacon Claybourne again.

"Deacon, that works for you right?"

Deacon nodded to Watty, his eyes never straying from Rayna. He didn't care what he had to do, he knew that he needed to see Rayna Wyatt again.