12
Bridie’s Thanksgiving feast sat like a boulder in Lane’s gut. He needed to tell Rae. Now.
Her petite body was tucked against the corner of her parents’ couch, legs curled to her chest, eyes closed in sleep. So different from the Rae who’d performed last Saturday, yet equally desirable. He loved her with a fierceness he sometimes couldn’t handle.
But he was living an illusion. She didn’t know the truth. If she wanted a future with him, she’d be nursing an invalid. That he may or may not be able to give her children. He should’ve confessed long before now. Before she’d written him a song, and performed it for the whole county. Until he told her, none of this was real.
Lane inched off the couch, packing ten pounds of turkey weight around his middle, and ambushed the fridge for another piece of custard pie. Everyone except him was napping, including Bridie, who’d cornered him in this very spot earlier.
“I haven’t seen Raelynn this happy in years.” Bridie had inched closer and lowered her voice. “Despite her hard exterior, she’s fragile inside.”
Like he didn’t know that already.
“Don’t let her push you away this time,” she’d said. “Fight for her the way you fight for that mountain.”
His sister was the only person who knew his body had turned against him, stealing every dream he had. And Rae had no clue what she’d gotten herself into when she’d stepped back into his life. She was healing but still wasn’t whole. That joy, the spitfire that made Rae who she was, had returned, and he was afraid the news would cause a relapse he didn’t want to be responsible for.
He forked a bite of pie into his mouth and made a face. His deception curdled the dessert on his tongue. He hadn’t meant to deceive Rae, but that’s exactly what he’d done.
Lane dumped the remainder of his pie into the trash and rinsed off his plate. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. She had a larger-than-life career waiting for her. She’d leave soon. He wanted to enjoy every minute with her he could while it lasted.
He stood behind the couch and watched Rae sleep. They could have a life together. Adjustments would have to be made, sure, but he was determined not to let the disease rob him. Memories of his mama lying in a hospital bed, gasping for air stole the thought. The MS itself might not get him, but it’d make him more susceptible to something that could. He didn’t want to put Rae through that.
Besides, she wasn’t just Rae anymore. She was Raelynn Rivers, country music record-breaker with a platinum debut album and a mansion in Tennessee. Her life might’ve veered off course the past few years, but last Saturday’s performance left no doubt in his mind she’d go places again. Did he really want his condition publicized? After several minutes of wrestling with his conscience, Lane grabbed his coat and walked out the door.
~*~
December first, Raelynn showed up at Lane’s door and coerced him to go with her to Charleston. She wanted to buy what she needed to turn his house into a Christmas wonderland.
A tree, ornaments, lights, that cheesy spray for the windows that made a huge mess and was impossible to remove—the whole shebang. This Christmas would triumph all others.
Lane curled his upper lip at the heaping cart. “If you put anything else in there, we won’t have a way to get it home. The backseat’s already full, and I doubt all this is gonna fit in your compact trunk.”
“We should’ve brought your truck.” Raelynn tossed another package of exterior lights into the cart and shrugged. “Oh, well. If I need more room, I’ll just strap you to the trunk and use the passenger seat.”
He grunted and pushed the cart ahead. “You’re too sweet.”
She cuddled his arm. “You’ve only seen the half of it, Mr. Ryan.”
After meeting her niece and nephew for the first time yesterday, gazing into their round, angelic faces and snuggling their tiny, delicate bodies, something cracked inside her chest like an egg, and she wanted nothing more than to become Mrs. Lane Ryan. For their love to create something so beautiful and perfect.
They turned down the aisle, and their shopping cart collided with another.
Lane apologized to the plump, elderly woman with the pursed lips, which softened when she recognized Raelynn.
The woman asked for her autograph and Raelynn happily obliged. Before they reached the end of the aisle, two more people stopped for her signature and photos with their smartphones.
Lane fidgeted with the cart handle. “And you act like you don’t have any fans.”
“Everyone wants to be able to say they’ve met a famous person, even if they’re not a fan. I doubt any of them have bought any of my last three albums.”
“You don’t know that.”
She stopped him by the arm and gave him a mock scowl. “Do you have any of my albums?”
He looked away.
“My point exactly.”
“We talked about that. It was too hard to hear your voice and not have you in person.”
Raelynn slid her arms around his waist. “You have me in person now.”
His Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed. “That I do.” He kissed her cheek and rolled the cart forward with a white-knuckled grip. Was he afraid she’d abandon him in the middle of the night again? “You ready to go?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’m hungry. How about we stop at that Chinese restaurant we passed on the way here?”
Lane hiked a brow. “Chinese food?”
“I know it’s not what you normally eat, but you’ll love it. I promise. We can get a little of everything, take it home, and pig out while we decorate.” OK, so she wouldn’t pig out, but she’d eat.
The serious line of his lips turned up in a smile. Lane nodded and cupped the back of her head with his palm. “Sounds good.”
~*~
“Are you sure about this?” Lane squeezed the trigger on the can of fake snow, spurting the junk on the window and into his face.
Rae plugged in a fifty-foot strand of colored bulbs, covering her black sweater in multi-colored polka dots. “I know it’s cheesy, but cheesy is a nice change for me.”
“I take it you don’t do cheesy at your mansion in Tennessee?”
She picked at her fingernails. “I haven’t really done Christmas the last two years. Once, I was in rehab for the holidays, and the other, I’d just gotten out. Didn’t feel very Christmassy.”
The thought of her spending the holidays alone tore his gut. He knew, in a way, what that felt like. “So what’s the place like the rest of the year?”
“Big. Lonely.”
Guilt slithered around his neck and squeezed like an anaconda. He focused on the window. Another spray of synthetic fluff hit the glass and flew into the air. He coughed. “You’re gonna be around to clean this mess, right?”
Rae walked to him and linked her arms around his waist. She stared at the strings on his hooded sweatshirt. “I really don’t need such a big house, since I’m the only one who lives in it. Now might be a good time to downsize. Or share it with someone.” Ever so slowly, her gaze trailed up his neck to meet his.
Lane choked the aerosol can in his grip to keep himself in check. The woman could set his body on fire with a mere bat of her dark, curly eyelashes. “Rae, we need to talk.”
“A man who wants to talk?”
He tried to smile back but couldn’t. “Yeah.”
She arched away. “Uh-oh. You haven’t changed your mind about us, have you?”
He pressed his palm to her cheek. “Of course not. I love you.”
She relaxed against him. “I love you, too.”
Lane drew a breath and released it. “If we’re gonna plan a future together, there are some things we’ve got to work out first.”
She rested her head against his chest. “Future. I like the sound of that. But can we talk about it later? It’s been a perfect day, one of the best I’ve had in years, and I don’t want to spoil it.”
“OK.” He exhaled, rubbing circles on her back. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Coward.
~*~
Raelynn whistled through the kitchen. She was never this chipper in the morning. In fact, she hated people who were this happy before noon. But a woman in love couldn’t contain herself. She remembered the tender words Lane had whispered into her ear yesterday while they’d decorated, and she fought the urge to thrust open a window and sing to the forest animals. Ridiculous, yes, but she was happy.
Mama snorted, reached for a hot pad, and opened the oven door to retrieve the biscuits. “You’re in a good mood this morning.”
“Yes, Mama, I am.” Raelynn kissed Mama’s cheek. The heat from the oven rolled over her legs. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been this happy.”
Mama slid the tray of golden biscuits on the stovetop and removed the mitt. “I’m glad for you, robin. I’ve prayed many years for this.” She pulled Raelynn into a hug.
When they moved apart tears filled both of their eyes.
“What are y’all blubbering about?” Daddy snatched the coffee pot and filled his mug.
Girlish laughter was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Raelynn called over her shoulder. It was probably Lane, come to claim a good morning kiss. Her smile died, along with the fairy-tale feelings, when she saw Jay standing on the porch instead. “Perfect timing,” she mumbled.
He shuffled his loafers on the snow-covered porch. “I tried to call, but, as usual, you weren’t answering your phone.”
Daddy walked up behind her. “You gonna let the cold air in, or invite the man inside?”
Jay could stand out there and turn into an ice sculpture for all she cared. This was it. She knew by the seriousness in his gray eyes that her time was up. Raelynn waved him inside.
After wiping his feet, Jay shook Daddy’s hand and nodded to Mama.
Raelynn leaned against the couch, crossing her arms around her twisting stomach.
Unbuttoning his coat, Jay grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. “The song’s a hit. We need you in the studio first thing tomorrow.”
“Fine, but then I’m coming back home.” She refused to spend Christmas without Lane.
“No can do. I’ve booked you on a national TV Christmas special that airs December twentieth.”
Christmas special? She hadn’t been offered a TV appearance in four years. Though she didn’t want to leave, she couldn’t pass the opportunity for national exposure. She did have a contract to fulfill. “All right. But I’m flying back for Christmas.”
Mama piled the biscuits onto a plate. “Will you stay for breakfast, Jay?”
Jay smiled. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
Mama’s gaze slid to Raelynn, a look of pain and grief, the same look Mama had when she thought she might never see her husband and son again.
Bile rose in Raelynn’s throat. What was she supposed to do?
“You’re also booked for a Christmas Eve concert with Sugar Creek Risin’ and J. Turner at The Ryman.”
She gulped. The Ryman? She’d only been asked to perform there early on as an up-and-coming artist. To this day, it ranked as her favorite performance ever—though performing for Lane the other night was a close second.
Well, she’d just have to convince Lane to go with her. He didn’t go back to work until mid-January. Christmas in Tennessee would be romantic. Maybe he’d propose. “OK. Give me a few days to get things together.”
Jay shook his head. “The studio is already booked. We leave on flight 159 at five o’clock. Tonight.”