CHAPTER 3
Kate deflated at the barb in her mother’s voice. Blinking back the sudden prickles in her eyes, she quietly shut the door and sank to the floor against it, hands tingling from the adrenaline flowing.
After a minute, footsteps sounded on the tile floor. “Can I make you a cup of tea?” Cheyenne asked gently.
“Sure,” she whispered, pulling herself to her feet and following Cheyenne down the hall. She sank onto a stool at the long granite countertop, staring at but not seeing Cheyenne put on the hot water.
Cheyenne pulled out two mugs and squeezed the plastic bear, filling the bottoms with honey. Then she reached for a lemon and rolled it against the counter. “Well. That was exciting.”
Understatement of the year. Kate pushed down a giddy laugh. She couldn’t laugh. Not now. But the feeling pushed up, demanding to be let out. Her shoulders shook from holding it in.
Cheyenne smirked. “I’ve never seen Franco so mad he looked constipated.”
Kate laughed hoarsely, trying to control the shaking. “Stop. You know it’s not good for me,” she said, even as more giggles bubbled up.
Cheyenne’s mellower chuckle joined her. “Maybe it’s just what you need. They say laughter is the best medicine.”
“Unless you’re a singer.” Her sides began to ache. “Singers aren’t allowed to laugh.”
“Wrong.” Cheyenne caught her eyes and started to laugh again. “Only repressed assholes aren’t allowed to laugh.”
Why was that so funny? Kate gave in to another fit of giggles. Voice be damned. This felt good. The two women laughed until tears streamed from their eyes and the pot whistled. Kate wiped her eye. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she spoke quietly again, like she’d been instructed by the otolaryngologist.
Cheyenne handed her a steaming mug. “Aww hell. Who’re we kidding, Kate? You’re done. You won’t even get hired on to wait tables at the Bluebird Café after this.”
They looked at each other and dissolved into another fit of giggles. Kate laughed until her throat hurt. “Do you really think I’m done?” She asked soberly after taking a sip of the soothing liquid.
Cheyenne turned serious. “Have you tried singing?”
Kate shook her head.
“Too afraid?”
She nodded. No use keeping the truth from her. Cheyenne was no dummy.
Cheyenne peered at her over the lip of the mug. “Well… you could always adopt four cats and take up knitting.”
Kate didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t help it. Cheyenne had tried for years to teach her to knit, with disastrous results, finally giving up on their last tour.
“Okay. So no knitting in your future. What do you want to do?”
That was the crux of it. She had no clue. She’d been trained to do one thing from childhood, and she’d performed like a circus monkey, doing exactly what was expected of her, and taking her reward in praise and false affection. “That’s just it,” she wailed hoarsely. “I don’t know. I don’t even know who I am outside of Kaycee Starr.” She buried her face in her hands. “I just want to be Kate. And go someplace where no one’s ever heard of Kaycee Starr. Someplace where I can be me. Find me.”
Cheyenne pulled on her hands, clasping them together. “Everyone deserves that chance, Kate. But I can tell you this. The Kate I know is strong. And brave. You just need to get more comfortable with her. And maybe now with your mom and Franco out of the way, you can do that.”
Kate shook her head sadly. “But not here. How can I do that with momma hovering and the press circling like sharks? Following me everywhere in town?”
“Then we get you out of here.”
“But where? Where could I go?” Someone was sure to recognize her. People who packed stadiums full of people, people who had stalkers didn’t have the luxury of wandering around unnoticed.
Cheyenne snapped her fingers, excitement growing on her face. “I think I know just the place.”
Kate cringed. “Lemme guess. You’re buddies with Richard Branson and he’s got a spare cottage on his island?”
Cheyenne snorted. “I know this cute little town in the Flint Hills, not far from Winfield, where I play the Walnut Valley Festival every year. It’s real sweet and the milkshakes at the diner are the best. People there are friendly and down to earth.”
“And what am I supposed to do there? Sing for my supper?” She coughed, bracing for the accompanying ache in her throat. “An alley cat probably sounds better than me right now.”
Cheyenne shrugged. “It’s ranch country, and you’re one of the best horsewomen I know. At least in the circles we run in. Prairie’s the kind of place that if you’re good with a pitchfork, no one will bat an eyelash. Work at the diner. Muck stables. I’m sure you can find something.”
“Even if I can’t talk?”
“You don’t need a voice to shovel horse shit.”
An ice-cold tendril of fear snaked through her. She hadn’t left the house without a security detail in nearly a year. Even when they drove to the doctor’s, it was in an armored SUV with at least four big scary looking men. And even that hadn’t been enough to protect her when the fan came after her. “What if someone recognizes me? What if–”
Cheyenne cut her off. “First, the crazed fan who nearly shot you is behind bars, and you’ve received no new threats.” Cheyenne speared her with a look. “Have you?”
Kate shook her head. Shutting her eyes at the memory of that horrible evening.
“Second, there is nothing better than hiding in plain sight. The paparazzi will still think you’re here.”
The idea took root inside her, sparking something to life that Kate hadn’t felt since the first time she’d stepped foot on the Grand Ole Opry stage as a shy fourteen-year-old. She wanted a chance to live a regular life. Have friends who liked her, not her money or her fame. Maybe even go on a date. She wanted to experience the feelings she wrote about in her ballads. To shatter in someone’s arms the way the couples did in the romance novels she voraciously read night after night. “It’s almost too much to hope for,” she murmured.
“No one will recognize you if we dye your hair brown and you go without all that makeup your mother makes you wear. Hell, I won’t even recognize you.”
Cheyenne was right. If she changed her look, most people wouldn’t recognize her. The magazines photoshopped her within an inch of her life anyway. She silently thanked her mother. Helene had insisted she always leave the house fully made-up. “That way, you’ll never be like those other celebrities always looking their worst coming out of the grocery store when the cameras are waiting,” she’d said. Ironic that listening to her mother’s advice all those years might actually be the thing that allowed her to start over someplace new.
“When do we leave?”
* * *
Cheyenne whistled low as they approached Prairie’s lone stoplight mid-afternoon the next day. “I’d heard a tornado had ripped through here last spring, but man…”
Barricades crossed Main Street, and signs of construction were everywhere. Cheyenne pulled the car into a vacant lot with a spray-painted sign indicating parking and cut the engine. “Looks like the diner got hit. I was really looking forward to a chocolate shake too. Wanna have a look around?”
Kate shrugged and nodded, still unused to the feeling of total freedom. True to Cheyenne’s word, no one recognized her with dark hair and no makeup. So far. But she still braced herself for a squeal of recognition and cameras snapping in her face. Slipping her arms into her newly purchased shearling jacket, she trailed after Cheyenne.
Partway down Main, a food truck stood with scattered picnic tables and benches spilling into a park. Cheyenne turned to her with a grin. “Jackpot,” she mouthed, tilting her head at the line of cowboys waiting to place an order.
Kate suppressed a giggle. The view might be fine, but she couldn’t even make small-talk. A stab of envy shot through her as she hung back while Cheyenne fearlessly approached the group and in no time had struck up a conversation. Would she ever feel that comfortable among strangers? Cheyenne waved her over. “These guys say there’s a ranch outside of town looking for help. Willing to pay room and board.”
She gave a small smile to Cheyenne and ducked her head, nodding.
“Cat got your tongue?” drawled one of the young men, staring at her curiously.
Kate froze. Did he recognize her? Why was he staring? She shot a panicked glance to Cheyenne.
Pity filled her eyes. “As a matter of fact, yes,” Cheyenne answered crisply. “Severe laryngitis.”
Shame burned in Kate’s chest. How would she manage on her own? She’d relied on Cheyenne for too much for too long.
The man flashed her a sympathetic look. “Aww, that’s too bad. I hope you’re feeling better soon.”
Kate acknowledged his kindness with a nod, then studied her toes, cheeks flaming. Maybe she should go wait in the car. Maybe leaving Nashville was the dumbest idea she’d ever had. God help her, maybe her mother was right. Her throat tightened as a sense of despair filled her chest.
Cheyenne touched her elbow. “C’mon. I got our food to go.”
Keeping her eyes trained on the ground, Kate slowly followed Cheyenne back to the car. Once they’d settled inside and opened up their containers, she spoke softly. “I don’t think I can do this, Chey.”
“Of course you can,” she mumbled, mouth full of burger. “You don’t want your momma calling the shots anymore do you?”
Kate shook her head. “Of course not.”
“Then it’s time to put on your big-girl panties and cowboy up, girl. We’re gonna go find Resolution Ranch and I’ll help you get hired, and then I’m outta here. I’ve got a gig in Kansas City tonight.”
Kate’s stomach plummeted. This shit was getting real, fast. She’d never truly been on her own. “But what if I fail?” she whispered, hands suddenly cold as ice.
“Pbbbbth,” Cheyenne scoffed, sticking out her tongue. “No way. You’re smart. You know horses, and you work hard. Where’s that tattoo you put on yesterday?” Cheyenne reached for her wrist, flipping it up. “Are you or are you not brave?”
Kate shut her eyes, willing the tears back where they came from. She pulled in a shuddering breath. “I am.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I am,” she answered with more certainty.
Cheyenne balled up her trash and tossed it in the back seat, then turned to start the car. “You are.” She pulled out of the space and back onto the road. “And we’re going to get you a job. A new Kate. A new life.” Cheyenne’s mouth pulled up as she glanced over and waggled her eyebrows. “And maybe even a cute cowboy, too.”