After having lunch with Jimmy and his hot, ball-busting friend, Addy Mae Masterson, I’m beat. I know that Jimmy doesn’t think that all of this shit with the label affects me, but it does. I just don’t stress about it like he does. Do I want to end up back in Georgetown working on the ranch next to my brother and dad? Hell no. I always knew that wasn’t gonna be my calling. I didn’t know music was going to be what took me away from that life—we all just assumed it would be football. Ever since I could hold a ball at the age of two, that’s what I did. Constantly. Then came the knee injury. Then the shoulder. Then bye bye full-ride scholarship. You learn fast what you’re good at and what you’re not when one of the only things you ever gave a shit about is taken from you. As I is I’m lucky. Turns out I’m good as hell at music. Now I’m on the verge of losing that too.

Pulling up to the ranch, I put the truck in park. I have a house on the property, but if I drive past the main house without first stopping in, my mama will take a switch to my ass no matter how old I am. Plus I need the distraction so I don’t just sit and dwell on the fact that my music career might very well be over. I can’t go there right now. I have to hope that Jimmy is as good as he thinks he is, and that Addy is as enamored with him as she appeared. I need a miracle right now, and she’s it. I’m not used to putting all my faith into one person, but I guess if I’m looking for a miracle, I could’ve done worse for myself. Miss Addy Mae and her sweet as hell rack are a damn sight nicer to look at than Glenn and the rest of the guys I was used to dealing with at my old label.

I cut the engine and give the dust a second to settle before getting out and climbing the porch steps to the back. The screen door creaks and claps shut behind me as I enter the mudroom that leads to the kitchen.

“Sealy is that you, baby?” my mama calls.

“No, ma’am, it’s your other son. Your favorite.” The house smells like it always does, of something baking or simmering away on the stove. Walking through the doorway, I see her wiping her hands on the apron she has tied around her waist. Her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail makes her look younger than her fifty-eight years. Not that my mama looks her age.

“Oh my stars, my baby is home.” It’s been a couple months since I’ve been home. I always call but it’s not the same. “Come give me some sugar, Beau. Why didn’t you call first? I would have made your favorite supper had I known.” I step into her outstretched arms, bending to accommodate her much smaller frame. My brother and I are both well over six feet like our father. We’ve towered over mama since we were young kids.

“Wanted to surprise you is all,” I lie. If I tell her why I’m really home, she’ll be dragging my ass right to church and have the whole damn town praying for me.

“Come in here and sit down. You hungry? Your brother and daddy will be in soon. They just got back from the auction a little while ago. Got two new bulls for stud and a beautiful paint mare to breed. Your brother sent pictures of the horse, pretty little thing.” My mom is a rancher’s wife through and through. She knows the ins and outs of the business and the unforgiving hours and hard work it takes to run a ranch this size. I tried to get my dad to retire and sell off some of the cattle when I signed my first record deal and my album went platinum, but he wouldn’t have any of it.

“McCraes have ranched on this land for generations, boy, and we’ll continue to ranch on this land for generations to come.” Stubborn bastard.

My mama puts a plate down in front of me, and I can’t help but smile. I don’t dare tell her that I’ve just eaten. “You want sweet tea?” she asks even as she’s pulling it from the fridge.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answer. No use in saying no. Setting the tea down, she takes the seat next to me, covering my hand with hers.

“How you doin’, baby? I know it’s been hard for you since Jenny passed. Bless her soul. You must miss her something fierce. God knows I do.” I glance up to see the tears in her eyes. My mama loved Jenny. She was the daughter she never had. Her death has been hardest on my mama, I think. Every breakup we’d ever had since freshman year of high school, my mama took her side. Scolding me for breaking Jenny’s heart and not seeing a good thing when it was standing in front of me. Sometimes I think Jenny and I were together for as long as we were because of my mama. Because who in the world wanted to hurt Jolynn McCrae? Sure as hell wasn’t me.

“I’m good, mama. I do miss her, but I’ve been keeping busy.” It’s true. Jenny and I had a ton of history and her death hit me hard. Clearly, since I’ve decided to try to tank my career in her honor. Wanting to talk about anything other than this and the state of my career, I’m relieved when my dad and little brother walk in.

“Thought that was your truck in the drive,” Sealy says coming through the door, not bothering to wash any of the dirt off before pulling me into a bear hug. Thumping him on the back, I laugh.

“Boy, you smell like shit.”

My mama gasps, “Beauregard Everett McCrae, you watch your mouth in my house. And Sealy, you take your filthy behind to the mudroom and get cleaned up before you traipse through my kitchen,” she scolds as my brother and I answer, “Yes, ma’am,” in unison.

Sealy goes back into the mudroom just as my dad is walking out beaming. “It sure is good to see you home, son. We’ve been missin’ you around here.” He gives me a hug much like Sealy’s, clapping me on the back before going over to my mama and welcoming her with a kiss. “You didn’t tell me he was comin’ home, Jo.”

“I didn’t know. He just showed up.” She smiles over at me.

“I didn’t know myself, honestly. But I’ll be home for a spell. You’ll be sick of me before you know it,” I joke.

My dad’s face is pinched in concern. “Everything okay?”

I should have been more careful with my words. It’s gonna be hard keeping anything from them as soon as the tabloids get wind of the label letting me go. I might as well be the one to tell them. Sealy comes in and pours a glass of tea for him and my dad, leaning against the kitchen counter and waiting for me to answer my father.

“Everything is fine.” Like a band-aid. Do it quick. “I’m not with my label anymore, and Jimmy and I are shopping new options for this next album.”

My brother lowers his glass, my parents look confused. My dad shakes his head and asks, “What does that mean, Beau?”

I made it sound like it was my idea to make the blow easier, but I can see that I’m going to have to give them more. “It means that I’m not with Glenn Co. Records anymore and that I’m looking for a new label to produce and release the next album.” I shrug like it’s no big deal when I know it is. It’s a big fucking deal.

“You got fired?” Sealy blurts. I’m gonna kill him. Only my baby brother would call me out and put me on the spot. Now the question is do I lie to my parents or do I just admit that I got fired. Fuck.

“Well, I guess you could say that. I wish you hadn’t, but I should’ve known you would,” I mutter glaring daggers at him.

“Fired? Whatever in the world for? Can they do that?” My mother rubs her hands over her apron, wringing the ends anxiously.

“Mama, honestly. It’s not a big deal. Jimmy and I have been talking about leaving for a while now. I’ve outgrown them.” That’s partly true. I have outgrown them, but Jimmy and I had hoped to stay there at least until this next album released.

“Hell, mama, he’s made enough money that he never has to sing another song as long as he lives and he’d still be fine.” My brother tries to smooth over his fuck-up. I shoot him an appreciative look. I’m so over talking about all of this.

My dad nods. “Jimmy is a smart man. I’ve always liked him. If he thinks this is a good move then it must be. I’m just happy to have you home for a while. We can use some help with the new mare.” He winks at me knowing how much I hate ranch work.

“Yeah, right, like, City over there is gonna get up with the roosters and get his hands dirty.” My brother laughs, knowing damn well I’ve worked the ranch since I could walk and help out whenever I come home because I hate to see him and my dad busting their asses. My mother turns to the stove and I flip him off. He blows me a kiss like the bratty little brother he is. Despite Sealy throwing my ass under the bus, it’s good be home.

* * *

My house needs aired out. I usually call a couple days ahead of me getting here and mama opens the house up for me and stocks the fridge. Since this isn’t a planned visit, the house is musty and the fridge empty. Well, not completely. Mama sent me home with a six pack of my dad’s beer and enough food to get me through the next couple days.

Walking from room to room, I open windows and turn on fans, getting the fresh air swirling. The scents of grass and hay and the fresh water of the creek right behind my house filter through the windows. I had the house built after my dad refused to sell off the land and retire. I picked my favorite spot on our property. A couple acres that abut the fields of wildflowers and the creek.

It’s quiet out here. Room for me to think away from the glitz and glamour that comes with being famous. I never thought I would miss the quiet of the ranch until I was surrounded by the noise of show biz. Not that I don’t love it. I thrive on it. Just miss this every once in a while too.

Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, I go to the back porch and sit in the rocker looking out over the land. The trickle of the water over rocks, birds chirping from the trees, the cattle in the distance. All the sounds of home. My phone ringing breaks through the short-lived peace. Seeing that it’s an Austin number that I don’t recognize, I consider letting it go to voicemail but something tells me to answer.

“Hello?”

“Beau, it’s Addy Masterson. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Her drawl is slow and sexy. Even more so over the phone than in person. Or maybe I was filled with too much animosity and the remnants of too much bourbon to notice earlier. Probably not a good idea to notice now either.

“No, ma’am. Just over here keeping my behind out of trouble,” I answer with her warning from lunch.

“I’ll pretend I’m not surprised by that. I half-expected you to be sneaking women onto your bus in a church parking lot.” So she’s been doing her research. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. I’m almost certain it’s not a good thing.

“Lots you can do on your knees other than pray. I’m sure the good Lord can appreciate that.” I can’t help but goad her.

“I’ll be sure to tell my daddy the preacher that the next time I see him.” She’s not amused.

“Let me know how that works out for you.” With the beer bottle in hand I kick back in the rocker and prop my boots on the rail. “I’m sure you didn’t call me to talk about all the types of prayin’ I’ve been doin’.”

“Not entirely, no. I do want to ask you to refrain from any more of that kind of ‘prayin’ until we can get this contract business figured out.”

“But I—”

“So good at it. Yeah I remember you making mention of that at lunch.” She beats me to the punch. “I’m actually calling about the demo that Jimmy Don put in the envelope for me.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her calling him Jimmy Don. Jimmy Don is a big bear of a man’s name. Jimmy is not that. He’s tall and thin with perfectly combed hair the color of corn. He looks more like a yuppie model than a cutthroat talent agent. It’s off-puttin’ if I’m being honest. First time I met him, I thought it was a joke. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Are these all originals you wrote on your own?”

“Yup. All but one. One is a song my brother and I worked on together.” Sealy has more musicality than even he knew. Must run in the family.

“They’re really good. Your sound is unique, and this new album is some of your best stuff.”

“So you’re a fan?” I tease. “Wish I’d have known. I woulda signed somethin’ for ya at lunch.”

“I’ll survive.” She’s a pistol. Quick on her feet and completely unimpressed with my status. It’s been a while since I’ve had such little reaction from a woman. Even Jenny that I’d known all my life would get a star-struck gleam to her eye every so often. I would do my best to remind her that I was still just me, but it was no use. “Anyways, like I was saying. I really like it. Which would you choose for your first single? I talked to Jimmy Don, and he wasn’t sure so he gave me your number to ask.”

“Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it. Glenn Co. never let me choose.” Just another way for them to keep me under their thumb. I hated it.

“Well, if you had to choose?” Addy prompts.

“You first. Which would you choose?” I really am curious. I’m not even sure why.

“If it were up to me, I would go with ‘Can’t Love You.’ It’s raw and emotional and different from your other stuff. I think it shows your versatility.” I can tell that she’s put a lot of thought into it. She didn’t just pick a song to pick a song. That she picked one that I never intended to have see the light of day isn’t lost on me. “Is that the one you would too?”

I clear my throat suddenly anxious to get off the phone. “I would pick any one but that one.”

“Can I ask why?” she asks, confused and a little pissy, if I’m picking up on the tone in her voice correctly.

“Nope. Is that all? I was gonna go into town for a spell.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I need a label not another mama. Unless you’re wantin’ somethin’ a little more? Maybe you want me to teach you all those other things you can do on your knees?” My drawl is exaggerated, my tone suggestive. I know just from the brief time I’ve spent with her she won’t put up with my shit.

“Goodbye, Beau. Stay out of trouble or I might just have Jimmy Don call your mama since you already have one and don’t need another.” Addy disconnects before I can respond. Probably best since she holds the fate of my career in her hands, and I can’t seem to stop myself from pissing her off.