Deacon

In the days and weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, they seemed to settle into a routine. They walked the beach on nicer days, did errands in town when they needed to, curled up on the couch and watched movies, and spent a lot of time writing together. Rayna had really taken to songwriting, he thought, and her lyrics were getting sharper and more focused. He was able to draw out of her experiences she could write from and he would sometimes find her curled up in one of the club chairs with her notebook, almost oblivious to anything else except for her writing. That always made him smile. The give and take between them as they wrote rivaled anything he'd done with his regular cowriters and he appreciated the female point of view she brought. He did think there was something much deeper to Rayna Jaymes, but he hadn't pushed and she hadn't offered. He thought that once she was ready to go there, her music would be even better.


They were sitting on the front porch, watching the waves. It was an overcast day, and the ocean had a silvery look to it. It wasn't too windy, for a change, and not too chilly. She turned towards him. "What are we doing for Christmas?" she asked.

He thought about that. "Hadn't given it much thought," he said, which was kind of true but not completely. He knew Beverly wanted him to come to her house for Christmas. She wanted to meet Rayna too.

"Do you get a tree and decorate it?"

He chuckled. "No."

"Can we?"

He was still smiling. "I suppose. That what you want?"

She nodded. "I love Christmas. My mom always made Christmas special and decorating and all that makes me feel closer to her."

"I'm guessing you really miss your mom."

She sat back. "I do. Every day."

He felt like this was an opening to find out a little more about her. He decided to take it, even though he was sure she'd want him to reciprocate. He'd just have to deal with that if the time came. When the time came. "Tell me about her."

She didn't say anything for a moment, just wrapped her arms around her waist. At first he thought she wasn't going to answer, but finally she sighed. "My mom was everything to me when I was a kid. She was so beautiful, especially when she'd get dressed up to go to the symphony or to some big party or event she went to with my father." She looked at him with a sad smile. "She loved music. All kinds, really, but especially classical music and country music. Odd combination, right?" He smiled just a little. "She really taught me to love music. We would listen to old country music. Bill Monroe, Dottie West, Patsy Cline, Hank Williams. That kind of thing. And some newer artists too. I love the symphony because of her, but I felt like country music just spoke to me. The way I think it spoke to her." She paused. "She had some land out along the river, west of Nashville. Nothing had ever been built on it. I think she really just liked how quiet it was out there, peaceful. She would take us out there sometimes – Tandy and me – and we'd sit by the river and sometimes we'd sing." She looked sad then and turned to look out over the ocean. "She told me I should sing country music, that it was my calling. And I thought it was too. Until it wasn't."

"You don't know it still ain't."

She looked at him. "You're sweet to say that, but some people don't make it. Most people don't. I think what I've learned is that you either burn bright or you burn out. We all feel like we have something to say but not all of us get to do that."

"How do you think your mom would feel if she knew you stopped trying?" She stayed silent. "I'd hate for you to miss out, baby, if it would just take one more try."

She looked at him. "Are you trying to get me to leave?"

He shook his head. "No, no, not at all."

"Well, you keep pushing me on this and it makes me wonder a little bit if maybe I've stayed too long." She didn't sound angry, she sounded hurt. He slid closer so he could put his arm around her.

"I want you to stay as long as you want to stay. Forever would be okay with me." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I guess I just feel like maybe you aren't ready to give up."

She looked up and smiled at him then. "I don't really know what I am. Except that right now I'm happy being here with you and I'm loving writing songs with you. And that's really all I want to do right now."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Then that's what you'll do." He breathed in. "And then I guess we need to get that tree and decorate it." She put her arm around him and snuggled in close. He really didn't want her to go, but he was also afraid she would eventually resent him somehow if she never tried again.


They managed to find a tree, although it wasn't the most beautiful tree, and some ornaments and lights for decorating. He thought the tree, once decorated, looked a little sad, but it made Rayna happy and that really was all he cared about. They were cuddled up on the couch with the tree lights on, a fire burning, and the lights off. It felt like a cocoon and they were the only 2 people on the planet. That's when she turned the tables.

"Tell me about your sister, your family," she said.

"There ain't a lot to tell."

"Tell me anyway."

He sighed. "Well, my sister – Beverly – is a couple years older than me. Me and her were always real close when we were growing up. We'd play music together sometimes and she thought about coming to Nashville with me when I went."

"Why didn't she?"

"She'd met a guy and she was in love, so she didn't."

"Sounds like you weren't a fan of the guy."

"I wasn't. Doug was always kind of a lazy ass. But Beverly loved him anyway. I think it was a way to get away from home. So she married him, she got pregnant, and after Scarlett was born, he left."

"Does he see Scarlett at all?"

"Not that I know of. I don't think Beverly even knows where he is now. But she and Scarlett are okay. She went to school for a couple years and got a nursing degree, so she does that. Seems to like it."

"Does she ever come out here anymore?"

"Not much."

"Why not?"

He sighed again. "We didn't have what you'd call a close family, 'cept for her and me. And even we kind of keep to ourselves. She stayed here after Doug left, but when Mama died, she moved inland. Left the house for me."

She was quiet for long enough that he thought maybe she wouldn't pry. But he was wrong. "You said you didn't have a close family. What does that mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Just that we weren't like some kind of TV family where everyone gets along all the time. Why?" He knew he sounded a little pissed off, but it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. His parents were gone, Beverly had moved away, and he was satisfied with the life he had.

She sat up and moved away a little, looking at him with a frown. "Because I'd like to know more about you."

"Why do you gotta know that?"

She looked at him for several seconds, then got up off the couch, walking over to stand in front of the fire. "Why don't you want to tell me?" she asked. "Are you afraid there's something that'll scare me off?"

He sat up, putting his feet on the floor. "Rayna, it's just in the past. I'm not sure what going back through all that does for us today."

She turned to look at him. "I can tell from the songs you write that there's some pain in there. You've spent a lot of time trying to get me to dig into my past for songs, so I don't understand why you can't return the favor."

"You ain't really telling me about your past either, Rayna." She looked away. "I know your mom died when you were a kid. I know you have a sister. And a father who obviously has enough money so y'all can afford that big house on the beach." He paused. "And that you ran away because you didn't have a record deal." The silence cut into the air. He knew he'd gone too far.

"That's not what I..." she started, her eyes flashing with anger.

He waved his hand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That was out of line."

She clasped her hands together and then she walked over and sat down beside him. "I didn't run away, but I did come here hoping I could figure out some answers." Her voice was calm. "I didn't really know what to do next and then I met you and you started to pull something out of me that I didn't even know was there. I still don't know what to do next exactly, but I thought we were, you know, creating something together. Both personally and professionally. I'm just trying to understand you and this life you've led that has created the beautiful music you write."

He breathed in, then reached over and put his hand over hers. "We are creating something together. But maybe I don't want to talk about the things of the past. I've worked hard to move past all that."

"I think it's still there though. I can hear it in your voice. And in your songs." She moved a little closer to him. "There's nothing you could tell me that will change how I feel about you. And I know you probably think I had this really privileged life, and I guess I did, but that doesn't mean everything's wonderful. It isn't. And it wasn't. I didn't have an idyllic childhood either, believe it or not. My mom died at a critical point in my life. After she died, my father basically abandoned my sister and me. And now my father and I fight all the time, especially about the path I've taken and the choices I've made. I've had to figure a lot of stuff out all on my own, going back to when I was 12 years old." She shrugged. "I guess you don't have to tell me anything. But in this short period of time that I've known you I feel like we've developed this... connection that feels sort of, I don't know, magical. You know?" He nodded. "And I don't want there to be walls between us."

He thought about what she'd said. It was hard for him to talk about himself or relive the things of the past. Even with her. He sighed. "I don't either. But..."

She shook her head. "It's okay. We don't have to talk about it now. But I hope we can someday." She put her hands on her knees. "I do have something I wanted to share with you and see what you think." Without waiting for him to respond, she got up and walked over to the dining table. She picked up her notebook and brought it back, sitting back down next to him. "I was thinking about the whole business with my... career, if you can even call it that. And I'm sure you probably had some of the same feelings I've had, but then you found a place where you could, I guess, share yourself. I wasn't finding that. Maybe I'm moving in that direction now, but I'm not sure." She opened the notebook and held it out to him. He took it from her. "I think it's a chorus. I've got some other thoughts on the rest of it, but I wanted your opinion." He looked down at the page she'd left open and started to read.

This town ain't yours
And this town ain't mine
We all come here with a light in our eyes
Some will burn out,
Some will burn bright.
Some learn to fly,
Some will run for their lives
In this town.

He looked at her. "Baby, this is beautiful," he said. She smiled a little shyly. "You should finish it."

"Would you help me?"

"I'll do whatever you need, but I think you can finish this one all on your own."


He let his hand drift up and down her arm. She was lying next to him, one arm across his abdomen and her head on his shoulder. It was very late. When he spoke, his voice was low and soft. "My dad used to hit me. And my sister. And my mom. A lot. He was a drunk. A mean one. And we never knew when he might come after any of us, sometimes for no reason at all. I remember one night he threw a casserole across the kitchen right next to my mom's head. I don't even remember now why. And then he threw a punch and gave her a black eye. Beverly tried to get in between 'em to protect my mom and he whipped her with his belt. He told me I'd grow up to be just like him. I promised myself I never would. And I won't. Ever."

He felt her tears against his skin. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I can't even understand that kind of thing."

"Be glad you don't."

"And that's why you left home?"

He nodded. "Yep." He barked out a laugh. "Then he left too. Too bad he couldn't've done that a few years sooner. Would've saved us all a lot of hurt and broken bones and bruises." She pulled herself a little closer to him and he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder. "Sometimes, you know, I wonder how I can still live in this house knowing what happened here, but I guess that's why I changed everything. I practically gutted it and rebuilt the inside."

"That seems like it could be really healing. Was it?"

"I guess."

She lifted her head slightly to look at him. "I'm glad you told me. What made you decide to?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess what you said about there not being walls between us." He kissed her forehead and smiled a little. "How'd I get so lucky to find you?"

She smiled back. "You conjured up a storm right when I crossed your line of vision."

"I guess I must've." He breathed in deeply, then let it out, feeling a wave of emotion. "I've never been this close to anyone before. I've never felt what I feel for you ever before. I don't wanna mess it up."

She pushed herself up and leaned on his chest, looking directly at him. "I don't think you will. I don't know how I know that, but I do. I think everything happened the way it was supposed to for us. You know?" He nodded. "We found each other in a storm and now, well, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

"Don't you dare," he murmured.

She smiled. "We found each other for a reason. I was meant to find you. You've found something in me that I never knew existed, you know? You've helped me find my voice."

He tangled his fingers in her hair. "And you're helping me find a new voice. A different voice. One that's us. I never knew I needed that til you."

"It was all because of that beautiful wild thunderstorm. Everything since then has changed." She smiled again and he kissed her, then rolled her over onto her back.


He had a framed state map on one wall in his great room and he showed her on the map where Beverly lived so she'd know where they were going. "And how long does it take to get there?" she asked.

"About 2½, 3 hours," he said. She gave him a skeptical look and he laughed. "We can't just do a straight shot." He used his finger to show her the general path they'd need to take, which took them up the coast and then over to the mainland where there was bridge access. "That's why we're staying overnight."

"Oh." She looked at the map, then back at him. "That's good though, right? Staying overnight. Means we have more time to get to know each other."

He breathed in, then smiled. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

She put her arms around his waist and looked up at him. "I'm looking forward to meeting the rest of your family. Are you nervous about that?"

He looked at her for a second, then put his arms around her and pulled her close. "No, not really. I just really have liked having you all to myself."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "I've enjoyed that too, but I think it's time to spread our wings a little, don't you?"

"I suppose." He breathed in, then out. "In that vein, Colin asked if we'd come sing on Friday night."

She smiled broadly. "I'd love to do that."

"We got more of your songs we can do. So a little more towards equal. You can try out This Town."

"You know I don't mind backing you up, but it would be fun I think to see if people like the new stuff."

He raised his eyebrows and smiled back at her. "That's what I thought." He rubbed his thumb against her cheek. "You know though that you're really good. Singing your own truth is always the best way to go."

"Oh, I don't know."

"Sweetie, you were good enough to get a record deal, even if it didn't pan out. That happens to a lot of people. But having your own music, I bet that would make a difference. You could go back, and I bet things would really be in your favor."

"You want me to go? Leave here?"

He shook his head. "No, no, no. But I want you to follow your dream and I think that's where you need to do it. In Nashville."

She frowned and pulled away from him. "So, when do you think I should do that? When should I plan on going back to Nashville?"

"I'm not saying do it now. I'm saying..."

"You're saying I will need to leave here, whether that's now or later. And as far as I can tell you'd really just be sending me away because you're gonna stay here."

He shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I think it is." She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. "I don't want to leave, Deacon. Don't you understand that? I love you. I want to have a life with you, and I thought you wanted the same thing. Although maybe I was wrong about that. Did you just teach me how to write songs so I could go on back" – she used her hands to make a little backward sweeping motion – "and leave you to your solitude and brooding?"

He scowled. "No," he said angrily. "That's not what I want at all." He looked up at the ceiling and then back at her. "If I could keep you here forever I would. I love you too. But you can still follow your dreams and I think you're good enough that you should."

"I don't understand though. Why could you not just come with me? If that's what I decide to do, because I haven't actually made that decision yet. You already told me you go every few months anyway. So we can just go together."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not? How long's it been since you were there?"

He looked away. "A while."

"What's 'a while'? 3 or 4 months? Even if we just go for you to do your songwriting, we can still do that."

"No."

She raised her eyebrows. "No? I don't understand. If you go anyway..."

"I don't know if I'm going back."

She just stared at him for a second. "What?"

He walked over to one of the windows and looked out towards the ocean. "I don't know if I'll ever go back."

"Why not? When's the last time you were there?"

"Rayna..." She walked up to him and took his arm.

"What happened?" Her voice was soft and compassionate, and he felt emotional. He swallowed but couldn't speak. "We don't have to talk about it now. Just let me know when you're ready." She let go of his arm and he heard her footsteps as she crossed the room. When he finally turned around, she was sitting on the couch in front of the fire.

"It hurts to think about going back there," he said, and she turned to look at him. "One of the guys I wrote with a lot, someone I met when I first went to Nashville, he was killed in an accident almost a year and a half ago. We'd been writing all day and a bunch of us met up at a burger joint late that night. Vince got pretty drunk – he did that a lot – and after he left, he hit a car, flipped his truck, and died."

"That wasn't your fault though, Deacon. Right?"

He shrugged. "I should've stopped him. I could've stopped him. I actually told him to get a cab or something, but he said he was fine. Except he wasn't."

She got up and walked back over to him, wrapping her arms around him, and leaning her head on his chest. "Why do you blame yourself?"

"I should've stopped him. I knew better." Thinking about it brought all the raw feelings back and there were tears in his eyes. "I failed him." He rested his cheek against her head. "If I go back, that's all I'll be able to think about. It's why I haven't been able to go back, and I haven't written anything since then. Until now. With you." He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the tears flow down his cheeks.

Rayna

She managed to get him over to the couch and she put her arms around him, holding him close. She couldn't imagine how it would feel to think you could have done something that would have prevented a tragedy and the guilt she knew he was shouldering. "We don't have to go back," she murmured.

He sat up then. "But your career," he said. "You're gonna have to go back for that."

"You know what? That doesn't matter as much right now. I'm happy, living here with you, writing songs with you. I don't feel like I have to do anything else but that. Unless you're trying to get me to leave." She smiled at him.

He pulled her close. "I don't want you to ever leave, you know that. But I'll support you no matter what you do."

She put her arms around his neck. "But I'm not leaving, remember?" He nodded. "This is where I want to be. With you. Doing what we're doing." She looked at him, thinking she'd never felt like this before. Like she was right where she needed to be and that he was the exact person she needed to be with. "I'm happy, Deacon. With you."

He smiled, then leaned in and kissed her, a kiss that was filled with love and promise. "I love you, Rayna," he said.

She leaned her forehead against his. "I love you, Deacon." She put her hands on his cheeks and pressed her lips to his. "You know what I'd like to do?"

"What's that?"

"I'd like to take a long walk on the beach and then come back here and write in front of the fire and then maybe do some other things." She smiled.

He smiled back at her. "You sure you don't want to do the other things first?"

"I could probably be convinced," she said with a laugh. He stood up and then picked her up in his arms. She squealed with laughter as he walked back to the bedroom with her.


There was a cold rain on Friday night as they drove to the Beachcomber. It was a windy night as well. She would have liked to stay at the house in front of the fire, wrapped up in a blanket and Deacon, but they had agreed to do the show, so they were on their way. Truthfully, she enjoyed performing and performing with Deacon. She'd gained some confidence in herself as she'd worked with him on songwriting. He was a great teacher, especially on the songwriting side. He'd tried to teach her to play guitar, but clearly one of them was failing in that endeavor. I don't need to play guitar. I have you. He'd laughed when she said that.

It was a week until Christmas. A week until they'd be driving to the mainland for Christmas with his sister and niece. Scarlett was 7. 7 going on 21, he'd said. Apparently that meant a handful. He'd shown her pictures of Beverly and Scarlett and she was intrigued. Scarlett was precious with her blonde curls and sparkling blue eyes and her little rosebud mouth. Beverly looked a lot like him except with dirty blonde hair and a harder look to her face. She did have a nice smile though and Deacon had told her that Beverly was a good mom to Scarlett. Their lives were better since Beverly's ex had moved on, he'd said. She had the feeling he contributed to that, but he didn't say it.

He reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. "You okay?" he asked, looking a little concerned. "You're kinda quiet."

She smiled. It was dark but she could see his face in the glow of the dashboard light. "I'm good. Just thinking about tonight."

"You good with taking on more?" He planned for her to take the lead on almost half of their set list, their cowrites really piling up. She'd discovered she loved the process of writing a song. While in the beginning she'd contributed mostly lyrics, she was starting to be able to contribute melodies as well. That was a little harder, she'd found, and he was so good at that part she'd been mostly content to let him shoulder that load. But every completed song felt like a triumph. It energized her.

She nodded. "Yeah. You know what I'd like for us to do though?"

"What's that, baby?"

"I'd like for us to try to write another duet. Something like Fade Into You."

He smiled. "We can do that. I saw it's supposed to rain all day tomorrow, so maybe we can do it then." He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "You ready?"

She nodded. "I'm ready." They both jumped out of the truck and ran towards the entrance, laughing when they got to the front door. She looked at him and smiled. "I'm always getting caught in the rain with you," she said.

He put his arm around her and pulled her close, kissing her. "You're the only one I wanna get caught in the rain with, baby."


The evening went well, and she felt energized afterwards. The people who'd come to see them had spent time afterwards talking with them about their songs, taking pictures, and asking when they'd be back. One of the women told her she was surprised she wasn't already making music in Nashville. It felt bittersweet to hear that. She would have loved to do that, still wanted to do that, honestly. But she wasn't going to do it without Deacon and considering he wasn't keen on going back anytime soon, it didn't look like that was in the cards. She was okay with it though. She didn't want to leave. It wasn't only Deacon either, it was this place, a place that had captured her heart in a much different way than when she was a child. She felt like it was a place where she belonged.

As they were getting their things together to leave, Colin came up on the stage. "Y'all, that was great. Thanks for coming out on such a crappy night."

Deacon smiled. "Glad to do it."

Colin then looked at her. "Since you're from Nashville, did you ever think about a singing career?"

She looked at Deacon, then at Colin. "Actually I did, but it didn't work out."

Colin looked surprised. "I'm surprised at that. You have a great voice, and your songs are fantastic. If you ever think about trying again, let me know. I'd be happy to do a demo for you."

Now she was surprised. "Wow. That's nice of you to offer. I'll sure think about it." Even though she didn't think she would.

"If you want to, just let me know." He shook Deacon's hand, gave her a pat on the shoulder, and then jumped off the stage, heading for the back of the bar.

She looked at Deacon. "See?" he said. "You are good. You should do it."

"I don't know. I'll think about it." The first of November she would have jumped at that, but now she was hesitant. And all because of the man standing in front of her. "I'm kind of tired," she said.

He took her hand. "Let's go home then."

Home. That's exactly what this place was. Home. She wasn't sure she could leave.


She was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. When she was done Deacon came up behind her and put his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. "You've been kinda quiet," he said. "Is it about what Colin said?"

She nodded, looking at him in the mirror. "That was surprising, when he offered that."

"He's a producer too. Or was. I know he's got a studio up the road a bit." He turned her around to face him. "I won't push. But here's what I think. We got these songs now – together – and they're really good. And you sound really good singing 'em. Maybe that's what you needed. Your own music." He kissed her on the forehead. "It was your dream, baby. You should follow your dream. I would never hold you back."

She shook her head. "That's the thing. I wouldn't want to do this without you. And as long as you're here, I'm here."

"Rayna..."

"Stop. Maybe you need to consider that my dreams have changed." She pulled away from him and walked back into the bedroom, getting into bed, and pulling the covers up around her. A minute later she could feel him sit on the other side of the bed. He turned out the light and then got under the covers, reaching for her. She turned to face him.

"Rayna, I support you no matter what you want to do."

She sighed, then she slid her arm around his waist. "Good. Because this is my dream. You are my dream." He leaned in and kissed her then. She let herself relax into the kiss, let him push away anything except the way she was feeling right then. He rolled her onto her back and she put her arms around his neck as he pressed the length of himself against her. Just when she thought she could stay that way forever, he slid one hand between them and inside the waistband of her pajama pants. She laughed softly against his lips and then moaned as he found just the right spot.


When she woke up the next morning, he was spooning her. He realized she was awake and kissed her on the neck. She smiled.

"Morning, baby," he said, his voice thick with sleep.

"Morning," she murmured.

"It sounds like it's still raining." She listened. He was right.

"Good. We can have a lazy day in front of the fire." She turned to face him. "I used to always hate rainy days, but I think I love the rain now."

He kissed her. "I agree." She smiled, then laid her head on his shoulder and her arm across his chest. He put one arm around her and held her close. She listened to his heart beating and his even breathing and then fell back asleep.


When she woke up again, she was alone in the bed. She rolled over and pulled his pillow close, breathing in the smell of him. It was just a few days until Christmas. When she'd left Nashville, she really hadn't thought she'd still be at the beach. She hadn't really had a plan per se when she'd left, but she wanted to clear her head and think about the direction her life had been taking and what she wanted to do about it. She had started to do that, but then she'd gotten caught in a storm that had brought her to this house and everything changed.

She thought about Colin's offer the night before. She had not really thought through the professional part of her life, although she knew she wanted to continue to make music, one way or another. If she decided to give up the dream of chasing that big career, she could still be an artist, but it would mean doing something different. She suspected now that her lack of songwriting was part of what was holding her back. She had known she couldn't sing covers forever or other artists' album deep cuts, but no one had really suggested she try to write her own songs. Belcourt had given her a catalog of songs to choose from when she had signed with them. But nothing had seemed to be right, at least per the label, which ultimately led to her being dropped. She understood, based on what Deacon had shared, that music that didn't tell her truth wasn't going to work. But now she had some experience writing her own music. She hadn't written anything completely on her own, except for the lyrics to This Town, but she'd learned so much from Deacon and had learned how to listen to her inner voice for inspiration. The idea of Colin taking some of the songs she and Deacon had written and turning them into a demo for her was intriguing.

But that could potentially mean leaving Deacon behind and she wasn't ready to do that. Maybe she never would be. She thought about what he'd told her about his friend and why he'd stayed away. It seemed like he needed a path back almost as much as she did. She sat up in the bed and then got up. She put her pajama pants back on and then went to Deacon's closet, finding one of his many flannel shirts to wear and putting it on. She'd started doing that more often and he teased her about it. She didn't care though. It made her feel like his arms were around her all the time.

When she walked into the great room it was empty. The tree lights were on and there was a fire going. She went to the coffee maker and along with a pot of coffee there was a note from Deacon. Went into town. Be back soon. Coffee's fresh. Love, D. She poured herself a mug of coffee and added sugar. Then she wandered into the great room and walked up to one of the front windows. The rain seemed to have tapered off, but it was still gray outside, and she could see the foamy waves crashing onto the shore. She went back and sat in the club chair in front of the fire, where she could see the tree. She'd gotten Deacon to put garland on the mantle and a wreath on the front door too so the house had a proper festive look. It made her happy.

She heard the back door open and close, and she turned in the chair as Deacon walked into the kitchen. He held up a bag. "I got donuts," he said with a smile, then set the bag on the island.

She got up from the chair and ran over, getting up on one of the stools. She grabbed the bag. "Yum," she said as she opened it. She pulled out a chocolate frosted donut and took a bite, closing her eyes as she chewed. "Mm, so good," she said. She opened her eyes. "Where you'd go? Besides the donut store."

"I had to pick something up at the post office. Presents for Scarlett."

"What did you get?"

"A holiday Barbie. She's been talking about it for a while, so I got her one. And a Barbie lunchbox." He shook his head and grinned. "That girl is all girl."

She smiled. "I think I'm gonna love her."

He nodded. "I think you will too. 'Course I'm biased." He turned to the coffee pot and poured a mug of coffee.

"I should get something for her. And for Beverly."

He shook his head. "Everything's from both of us." He took a donut out of the bag and then walked around the island to sit next to her. "I been thinking about Colin's offer. I think you should do it. And then when you have that demo I'll take you to Nashville myself."

That surprised her. "You will?"

He nodded. "Yep. I don't want you to give up your dream, at least not without taking one last shot at it. I don't want you to have no regrets."

She couldn't speak at first. Then she got off the stool and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him. "Thanks, babe. I would only do this with you by my side." She still hadn't completely made up her mind, but knowing he supported her meant the world.