CHAPTER 28
Kate stared listlessly out the window as the plane touched down in a rainy Nashville. Her heart felt as bleak and gray as the skies. The despair on Cash’s face as she’d turned back one last time at security had cut her to the core. What was she thinking? Who in their right mind would leave a man like him? A fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm her.
She puffed out her cheeks, letting out a slow breath. She’d see him again in three weeks when she returned to Resolution Ranch for the concert, and after that? She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting back a sob. Right now the barriers seemed insurmountable. But she’d made a recording, something that last fall, she thought would never happen again. So miracles could happen.
Pulling her baseball cap low, she waited until the last person exited the plane, before grabbing her small carryon from underneath her seat and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her guitar from the first-class closet. Even with the telltale sign she was a musician, no one had recognized her in Chicago, and hopefully, with Cheyenne circling in the pick-up zone, she could get out of the airport without drawing attention to herself.
Shooting off a quick text to Cheyenne, she nodded her thanks to the flight attendants and deplaned. Every step she took away from Cash and toward her old life, felt heavier and heavier, until by the time she reached the pick-up area she felt like she was wading through mud.
Cheyenne flashed her lights and pulled over the curb, flinging open the door. “Welcome home, hon.”
“Back, not home,” she muttered.
“Come again?” Cheyenne cast her a concerned look.
Kate shook her head. “Not home. It’s not home. Maybe it never was.” The ache in her heart would only be filled with clean prairie air and wide-open skies.
Cheyenne clucked sympathetically. “I contacted the realtor like you asked.”
“Thanks.”
“Aww, hon. Wanna talk about it?”
She shook her head, watching the buildings fly by. “Are there still reporters camped out at the gate?”
“Twenty-four-seven.”
“How many?”
“Six, maybe eight. Depends on the day.”
Damn. It wouldn’t matter how long she stayed underground, they would never stop hounding her.
“Okay. Stop at the gate when we get there.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m tired of running, Chey. I’ll answer their questions. Maybe then, they’ll leave me alone.”
“Okay…” Cheyenne drew out the word doubtfully. “I have to warn you though, your mother is going to flip when she gets wind that you’re selling the estate.”
Anger flashed through Kate. “Why? Because she won’t be able to live off me any longer? Because she’ll have to buy her own apartment in town? Have her own life? Too damned bad.”
“That’s the spirit.” Cheyenne hit the steering wheel excitedly. “Finally taking the bull by the horns, huh?” When they arrived at the front gate, Cheyenne slowed the car to a stop, and Kate hopped out, approaching the group camped out by her front gate with cameras and recording devices.
“Hi, guys.” She waved, laughing to herself at the looks on their faces as they recognized her and hurried over, snapping pictures. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Depends,” one man answered from behind his camera.
“I’ll let you get your pictures, I’ll answer your questions, and then you’ll agree to vacate the premises?”
The gaggle looked at each other uncertainly, no one wanting to make the first move. Finally, a stringer about her age broke ranks and nodded. “Sure. I guess.”
Kate gave him the full force of her smile. “Great, thanks. You get to ask the first question.”
Her answer acted like a domino and very quickly the rest of the reporters agreed. She stood patiently, smiling while they snapped their pictures. She removed her baseball cap and shook out her hair.
“Take off your sunglasses?”
Ugh. Her eyes were certain to be puffy and red. “You sure? It’s allergy season, and I don’t look that good.”
“Okay, fine,” one of them grumbled.
After a minute, the clicks slowed. “Ready for questions?” She turned her attention to the young stringer. He probably sold articles to Buzzfeed or TeenBop or something.
“Why’d you cancel your tour?”
She grit her teeth. This would be over in a blink, and then it would be over. She smiled placidly. “Emotional stress from the backstage incident I’m sure you all covered in great detail. And exhaustion. I’m sure you can imagine what kind of toll it takes to have people scrutinizing your every move twenty-four-seven.” She didn’t care if they took offense at her barb. It was true. “Next question?”
“Why’d you color your hair?”
“Boredom.”
“Rumor has it you fired Frank DiAngelo. Is that true?”
She cringed. They didn’t waste any time getting to the juicy stuff. “Yep.”
“Why?”
She took a breath, biting her tongue. “Artistic differences.”
“Really?” one of them asked, clearly not buying it.
“Yes. I wanted to take my career in a different direction.” Let her mother and Frank chew on that.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to confess. But that would only rain down more trouble on the ranch. Mentally crossing her fingers and sending up a prayer that Cash didn’t see a story online, she lied. “Nope.”
“When are you going back on tour?”
Never. “Maybe later this year? I confess, I’ve enjoyed my hiatus. I’ve worked nonstop over the last decade. I think I’ve earned a bit of a rest.”
“Any plans for a new album?”
“Not at this time. Are there any more questions?”
When they’d exhausted her with their banal and cliché questions, including her favorite shampoo, she held up a hand. “C’mon, guys. You know you can’t ask me things like that. I have endorsement contracts, and it wouldn’t be fair to the companies I have relationships with. Thank you for your time, and for giving me some space.”
She stayed rooted to the ground as the group dispersed and drove away. A weight lifted off her shoulders. Cheyenne gave her a high-five when she crawled back into the car. “You handled them perfectly, girl. I’m so proud of you!”
Longing for Cash pulled at her. He’d be proud too. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t disturb him, it would be too painful, but she couldn’t resist sending him a brief text.
K: Missing you <3
Her heart sank when they parked in the circle drive, and he still hadn’t texted back. He was probably driving. He’d said he was driving back to Prairie as soon as she was on the plane. Turning off her phone, so she wasn’t tempted, she grabbed her bag and hopped out of the car, going cold when she spied her mother waiting at the front door, a frown etched on her face. So she wasn’t going to waste any time, huh? Steeling herself, she lifted a hand in greeting. “Nice to see you, momma.”
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” she snapped. “You’ve tossed everything into chaos, and the best you can come up with is nice to see you?”
“Was I supposed to tell you the truth?” she muttered under her breath. Next to her, Cheyenne snickered. “Well, I’m home now, momma, so let’s have a talk. Would you like some sweet tea?”
“Heavens no. I want to know why I sent a realtor packing.”
Cheyenne sucked in a breath.
Heat flashed through Kate. Keeping her eyes pinned on her mother, she spoke. “Chey, do me a favor, call the realtor back and explain momma was confused.”
Cheyenne barked out a quiet laugh. “My pleasure.” Her voice was laced with outrage.
“Momma, do you really want to have this discussion when I’m not even inside?”
With a huff, Helene stepped aside and let Kate pass, following her into the great room.
She’d miss this room, the way the floor to ceiling windows drew the outside in. For whatever reason, she’d always drawn strength from the view, and she needed it now more than ever. Turning to her mother, she began. “Momma, we need to talk, would you please have a seat?”
Spine ramrod straight, Helene sank onto an ottoman in front of the large stone fireplace. “Say what you need to say.”
“There’s not much to say. I’m listing the estate. Today.”
Helene’s eyes grew wide. “No,” she shook her head vehemently. “I forbid it.”
“Momma, you can’t, and you know that,” Kate reminded her gently. “But I will purchase you a condo wherever you like. Nashville, Florida, New York. Wherever you like. But only one.”
Helene’s face was stone, but her eyes flashed anger and hurt. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Kate nearly felt sorry for her, until she remembered everything she’d learned from her lawyer. It was time to cut her mother off for good. “I could ask you the same, momma. Brian did some digging. You’ve taken far more of my royalties than you should have. You took advantage of my naiveté to help yourself for far too long. And that stops today.”
“This is about your crazy idea that you can produce, isn’t it?”
“It’s not such a crazy idea, momma. And if it turns out I’m not so good at it, oh well.”
“You’ll make a fool of yourself, Kaycee.” Her eyes glittered.
“Stop calling me that, momma. I’ve gone back to my given name.”
Her mother glared daggers. “I made you into what you are today.”
“And I’m grateful, but you’ve always made it clear what a burden I was. So now I’m setting you free, momma. And I’d like your blessing.”
Helene shook her head. “You are making a terrible mistake.”
Kate’s throat grew tight. Her mother would never accept not being in control of her life. Maybe someday. She hoped. But for now? She’d have to shed her mother along with everything else. The knowledge tore at her. “Momma, don’t do this. Please. I want you to be happy for me, to be as excited as I am about this next phase of my life.”
“How can I be excited when you’re throwing everything away? Everything that I worked for? Everything I sacrificed?” she croaked.
“Momma,” Kate cried, kicking herself for the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I can never sing again. I’m moving on. I have to move on.”
Her mother stood, looking regal and terrible. “Then you’ll have to do it without me.”
Kate gasped at the intensity of pain that shot through her. She blinked rapidly, hanging on to her control by a thread. She’d figured confronting her mother would be unpleasant, but not like this. Some secret part of her had continued to hope, even in the face of all the evidence, that her mother could give her the love she’d always craved. That she’d make enough money, win enough awards, that someday her mother would be happy. “Momma, it doesn’t have to be this way,” she whispered, a tear spilling over her cheek. “Please understand.”
Helene’s voice was cold as granite. “I wish you the best of luck, darling.” She tossed her head and walked out the door.