The Hottest Ticket in Town (13 page)

19

T
HE
FOLLOWING
DAY
they were somewhere between Tulsa and New Mexico when Trent picked up Laci's silently vibrating cell phone and waited for the call to go to voice mail. He didn't recognize the number and it wasn't in Laci's contacts, but his gut told him it was that hulking country guy who didn't need to be calling and pestering his number one star.

Laci, sacked out in the private section of the tour bus, had put on one helluva show last night and the ticket sales were enough to make him forgive Laci for her momentary lapse in reason. But this—he stared at the cell phone with distaste—was enough to bring back bad memories. Without hesitation, he listened to the voice mail, curling his lip when he heard that man's voice.

“Laci, this is Kane... Call me when you get the chance. It's important.”

Hmm...no loving send-off, just a curt message left behind. What could be more important than keeping his country angel focused and on-target? Trent didn't think anything was more important than that. In a deliberate action, he deleted the voice mail as well as the missed-call signal. His job was to keep Laci focused on the future, not looking back to the past. He began to return the phone to where he found it, but then he reconsidered and pocketed it instead. Best way to keep his star focused was to remove distractions.

* * *

L
ACI
AWOKE
AND
rubbed bleary eyes as she attempted to focus her vision. Her head was splitting and every muscle ached. She needed a good, deep massage and a handful of aspirin with her morning coffee.

She rolled to her side to grab her phone and realized she'd left it in the front of the bus last night. She'd been so exhausted, she hadn't even taken the time to clean the makeup from her face, and normally she never slept with makeup on because it clogged her pores.

She slowly climbed from her bed and stumbled to the private bathroom to rinse her face. Staring into the small mirror, she saw unhappiness staring back at her. She needed to call Kane. Part of her was ashamed by how she'd run out on him, moving on autopilot instead of using her brain to think things through, but then Trent knew how to get the right reaction out of her, too. She shook her head, bogged down by the weight of her own life.

She braced herself on her elbows against the counter and stretched her back, wincing as her muscles screamed and her back ached. She felt a hundred years old today. Straightening slowly, she exited the bathroom and went in search of her phone, but Trent intercepted her with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a bran muffin, packed with protein, no doubt, which would taste like cardboard but serve as the necessary fuel for the day.

“Thanks.” She accepted the muffin and took a bite, grimacing. Yep. Cardboard. Nothing like Cora's muffins, which were loaded with butter and eggs, and love. She chewed dutifully and washed the muffin down with a swallow of orange juice. Well, at least the juice was good. “Have you seen my phone?”

Trent shook his head. “No, but I'm sure it's around here somewhere. Is there someone you need to call? I can do it for you.”

She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to rely on Trent any more than she already did, particularly when she was considering letting him go, but her head hurt and she didn't want to add more stress to the day, so she just said, “It's not important. I'll take care of it later.”

“Excellent,” he said briskly with an efficient smile as he continued without missing a beat, “because you have a full day on the schedule. You have an interview with
Country Talk
magazine as well as a photo shoot for the December cover of
Cosmopolitan
, so let's get our head in the game. I want you to talk up the new album, give some private insight to the meaning of a song—people love that—but make sure you leave some mystery, too. An overexposed star is a star whose fame is waning. Got that?”

She nodded wearily, too tired to scowl or argue with him. “What time does everything start?”

“I have hair and makeup scheduled in one hour, so you'd better scoot and get showered up. Go on, girl, get the lead out. Time's a-wasting.”

Oh, shut up.
She did manage a faint scowl this time, but it was lost on Trent. He was already moving on, heading to the front of the bus to give the driver their next destination.

A part of her insisted that she find a phone and call Kane, but the other part of her, likely the part that was still reluctant to go against Trent, was telling her to get her butt in the shower. It was a big deal to land the
Cosmo
cover. Country singers weren't always the ones sought after for that iconic cover, but as Trent liked to point out, she had the goods. Trent made sure she was made up for the public eye so she always looked radiant and beautiful, but truthfully, she'd enjoyed the fact that when Kane had looked at her, no matter if she'd just woken up and her hair was standing on end, or if she'd spent time on her hair and makeup, she knew he liked what he saw. No, more than liked—he'd loved it. Tears sprang to her eyes and she dashed them away, knowing she didn't have time to cry. The world didn't wait for a forlorn heart to mend—or to make up its mind.

She'd call Kane tonight, no matter what.

* * *

R
IAN
ARRIVED
AT
the Bradford ranch two days after Warren had returned. The air in the ranch house was stoic, as if no one dared to break down because if one fell to tears, they'd end up a sobbing mess and there was work to be done.

“How's Warren doing?” Rian asked once they were alone. Rian and Kane had headed for the barn to saddle up the horses to check the fence line where Kane had mended it a week prior.

“As good as can be expected, I suppose,” Kane answered as he mounted Amelia, and Rian took Dancer. “He's real quiet, but then Warren's never been a man of many words. What can he say? She's gone and nothing's bringing her back.”

“True. I just feel terrible for the old guy. I don't even know how he's going to function without Cora around. You know, Cora ran this ranch even if he did the heavy lifting. She paid the bills, the taxes, kept the house from falling down around their ears...and Warren's not up to learning a whole new set of skills.”

“I know,” Kane said grimly. Rian wasn't voicing anything he didn't already know. “But we knew sooner or later this day would come. It's just here now. But Warren's not going to let anyone come in and help him. His pride is thicker than molasses in winter.”

“I been thinking...what if we offered to buy the ranch—me and you—and just kept Warren on to manage the operations?”

The idea had merit, but Warren wouldn't sell. Not even to him and Rian. “I wish that were the answer, but you know Warren's not going to let go of the ranch. Not until the good Lord takes him. That's the only way it's going to happen.”

“Aw, hell, this ain't gonna work. We live in LA. We can't move our base of operations to Woodsville, Kentucky, to make sure Warren ain't killing himself here on the ranch.” Just like Kane, when Rian was frustrated, the Southern came out in him, revealing his Kentucky roots. “This is a right pickle. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.”

Kane agreed, adding almost hopelessly, “Maybe I could convince Warren to take on a ranch hand...”

“Are you kidding? He wouldn't even let anyone take over temporarily while he took Cora for that stupid treatment. He ain't gonna let no stranger come in and help out now.”

Kane swore under his breath because Rian was right. They rode in silence for a long while then Rian said, “You heard from Laci?”

“Nope.”

“Did you leave a message with that number I gave you?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure she got the message? I know Laci wouldn't have kept radio silence if she knew about Cora. She loved the old gal like we all did.”

Kane shot Rian a quelling look. He didn't want to talk about Laci. “It is what it is. I left a message. She hasn't called back. Can't get more clearer than that.”

Rian looked confused. “I don't understand... Laci would never—”

“You're confusing what you knew of Laci when she was a kid with the woman she is now—they ain't the same. Trust me.”

“I guess you're right, but I still can't believe she'd ignore a call like that. I mean, not even a text message back?”

“Nothing,” Kane answered, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. He'd been damn surprised that Laci hadn't lifted a finger to call him since she'd bolted, but then, what had he expected? They'd shared some good times and now it was time for everyone to get back to reality, a reality that apparently didn't include him, and it stung. “Laci McCall is not the center of the universe. We got bigger problems to solve than whether or not Laci is going to remember who was there before she got famous.”

Rian was quiet for a minute and Kane thought,
Good, he's dropping the subject
, but no such luck. “I don't buy it. She didn't get the message, Kane. Try again. You can't just send a single message and leave it at that. Sometimes technology eats messages, you know that. Remember that time I texted you to get beer and you came back from the store empty-handed?”

“This isn't like that,” Kane retorted, shaking his head. “C'mon now, we got bigger stuff to figure out.” He did a double take at his brother. “And why are you so hell-bent on me and Laci mending fences? You got a stake in this or something?”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Rian snapped. “It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that you're still in love with the woman. And I have a feeling that if you don't chase after her, you're gonna regret it for the rest of your life and, frankly, I don't have time to babysit your sulking, crybaby ass just because you're too chickenshit to just lay it all on the line and tell her how you feel.”

“Feeling your oats today, boy?”

“I'm not a boy,” Rian growled as Dancer shied away from Amelia, reacting to the tension in her rider. “That's your problem, Kane. You're too bullheaded for your own damn good. You can't recognize when you need to listen to someone else.”

“I'm not gonna chase after her like some lovelorn kid. I wouldn't do it when I was seventeen and I sure as hell don't see myself doing it now. She knows where to find me. At least for the next week. After that...she's out of luck.”

Rian shook his head in disgust and spurred Dancer to a canter to put some space between him and Kane, which was probably a good thing. Amelia was getting happy feet and when she did that, she got skittish. He'd taken more than one spill on Amelia in his youth.

Was he being too stubborn? What else was he supposed to do? Pack up and drag the woman back to Woodsville so she could pay her respects to a woman who'd been like a grandmother to her? And what if that pushy manager got in the way again? He couldn't promise he wouldn't give that man a taste of pure country retribution in the form of his fist.
Just give her another call
, a voice urged, and he wavered. Rian was right, Laci would've called back if she'd known it was about Cora. Maybe he should've been more specific in his message. The funeral was in two days. He had to at least try.

If he didn't, Cora was likely to haunt his ever-loving ass for the rest of his days.

And he couldn't handle that idea at all.

20

T
HE
WEEK
PASSED
in a blur, so much
so that Laci didn't know which end was up any longer, but as Sunday arrived, she
was thankful for the reprieve. Today was the day she was going to try to call
Kane. Her stomach pitched and rolled at the prospect because she didn't know
what to expect. She knew she had to try to explain, to try to get Kane to
understand why she'd left that day. But the reality was, if she didn't
understand, herself, why she'd left, how could she explain to somebody who
didn't understand the lifestyle she lived? Perhaps that's why she hadn't been
able to make the call yet. Either way, she wasn't going to sit on her hands any
longer. Kane deserved some kind of answer.

“Trent, have you seen my phone? I seem to keep misplacing it.”
She began lifting papers from tabletops in search of her missing smartphone,
getting frustrated by the fact that it seemed to have grown legs. “I can't
understand why this phone keeps disappearing. Maybe I need a bell attached to
it.”

“Are you sure you should be on the phone right now? You ought
to be resting your voice. You sounded a little hoarse at the last interview,”
Trent said. “Maybe you need a little tea with whiskey and lemon.”

“I don't want to rest, I want my phone,” she said, irritated.
“Do you know where it is or not?”

Trent sounded bored as he flipped through the newspaper.
“Nothing worse than a woman who thinks she knows her own mind. You need sleep.
Now go on and get some shut-eye. I don't want to hear about how tired you are if
you won't get some rest when you're able.”

Red-hot anger washed through Laci like a flash flood barreling
through a dusty canyon and she couldn't stop her mouth from snarling as she
said, “Don't talk to me like I'm some kind of idiot. I pay your bills, not the
other way around. Try to remember that.”

“Don't get your dander up, girl. I was just trying to help. Who
are you all fired up to talk to anyway?” he grumbled, folding the paper and
standing. “If you just tell me what you need, I'll see to it that you get
it.”

But she didn't believe him. She didn't know why she was
suddenly so suspicious of Trent, but it was as if her internal monitor was
beeping like crazy and it was hard to shut it off. “I don't think that's any of
your business,” she returned coolly. Her patience with Trent was at an all-time
low. She no longer saw him as the man with the key to her dreams but rather the
gatekeeper preventing her from her own life. “It's not your job to manage who I
talk to. If you have my phone, give it to me now.”

“You're all filled with piss and vinegar today, aren't you?
Calm down, your phone is right here.”

Trent reached into his pocket and handed her the cell phone. “I
found it underneath a bunch of costuming. You must've dropped it when you were
changing. I was going to give it back to you after you'd had some rest.”

She accepted the phone and although his explanation seemed
plausible enough, she wondered if her phone had not been misplaced at all but
deliberately hidden. Every time she'd asked for it, Trent had distracted her
with something else. She checked her missed calls and her heart sank a little
when she didn't see any unknown numbers in the missed-call list. Disappointment
sharpened her voice even further as she said, “Keep your hands off my phone.
This is personal property, and don't forget it.”

She disappeared into her bedroom and closed the door, happy to
shut him out if at least for the moment. Laci sank onto the bed, heartsick and
angry at the same time. Why hadn't Kane called? It's true she hadn't left her
number, but Kane had ways of finding information. If he'd wanted to find her, he
would have. But the absence of any missed calls told her he hadn't been
interested in finding her at all. Apparently, what she'd thought they'd shared
at the ranch had been a passing diversion for him. Just because two people had
sexual chemistry didn't mean they were meant to be together. It was a tough
lesson, but what could she do? She supposed she could call him, but her pride
balked at that. There was no way she was going to chase after him if he had no
interest in being with her.

But how else was she going to get news about Cora? Laci chewed
her bottom lip, conflicted. Maybe she'd just have to bite the bullet to find out
how Cora was doing. Yes, that's what she would have to do. If Kane didn't want
her, that was fine, but she wasn't going to let her issues with him get in the
way of her love for Cora. She quickly dialed the Bradford ranch. And was
surprised when not Kane but Rian answered the phone.

“Rian? Is that you?”

Rian, just as surprised, exclaimed, “Laci? Oh man, am I glad to
hear your voice. Where are you? Please tell me you're close.”

She frowned in confusion. “I'm in Oklahoma, I think. Why?
What's going on?” A cold chill chased her spine. “Please tell me Cora is okay.
Why are you there? Is it Kane? Is Kane okay?”

“Did you get Kane's message?”

“What message? No, I didn't get a message or a missed call from
Kane. Are you saying that he tried to call me?” Laci couldn't stop the hope in
her voice even though she was scared at what her intuition was telling her was
coming. “I swear to you I didn't get any message. What's going on?” The
heaviness in Rian's voice confirmed her fear that Cora was gone. “No...please
tell me that Cora's okay,” she pleaded, tears springing to her eyes.

“She died last week. Her poor old body couldn't handle those
treatments any longer. Warren had her brought back so that she could be buried
in her hometown. The funeral is today,” he said mournfully. “I was hoping that
you were gonna tell me you were on your way and almost here. But if you're in
Oklahoma...there's no way you're going to make it in time.”

Her heart broke into a million tiny pieces, shattering and
splintering as the reality that Cora was gone hit her with a force of a
collapsing building. “She's really gone? Oh God, please tell me that's not true.
I never got to say goodbye. I never got to tell her how much I love her.”

“Kane tried to call you. Twice. He's a real mess—he thinks you
don't care.”

“But I do care, I care a lot. I just didn't know. Damn you,
Trent!” She knew it was Trent who'd waylaid those messages. She knew in her
heart as well as she knew anything to be true. “If I'd known, nothing would've
stopped me from being there. What time is the funeral? Maybe I can hop a plane
and get there on time.”

“You can try, but I'm not holding out hope. The funeral's at
four o'clock today.”

“I'm going to try. You tell Kane I'm coming.” She scrubbed the
tears from her eyes, too angry to cry right now. She would have to mourn Cora
later. Right now she had to find a way to get to Kentucky before that funeral.
Rian gave her the details and then she hung up and started yelling for Trent.
First things first, Trent had to go.

“What's all the racket?” Trent asked as Laci came screaming out
of her bedroom. “Have you lost your mind? What are you hollering about?”

“You slimy bastard. You kept my phone so that I wouldn't see
that Kane was calling me. Why would you do that?”

Trent's expression hardened and he didn't appear the least bit
remorseful; if anything, he seemed flippant, as if he'd do it again if he could
and that just boiled her blood. “And what if I did? I only did it to keep you
focused. You've been a loose cannon lately. Running off, hiding in the country,
playing house with some hillbilly while the rest of us think you're off dead
somewhere. Stop acting so selfish and think of how your actions are affecting
others.”

“Oh no you don't,” she said, so angry her voice shook. “Don't
you dare throw my responsibilities in my face ever again. I never would've run
if you hadn't tried to work me into the grave with that insane schedule you
booked. I told you over and over I needed a break but you didn't listen. What
else was I supposed to do? And this isn't about me. This is about you, hijacking
my personal property when you had no right to do so.”

“That's where you're wrong,” he said, stabbing a finger her
way. “You represent an investment of time and money on my part and I wasn't
about to let some guy come in and ruin what I built over the last eight years.
If you like your life, you have
me
to thank, you ungrateful bitch.”

A month ago, Laci would've crumpled at Trent's hot words but
not today. Today was about making things right when they'd gone terribly wrong.
“If you like
your
life, you can thank
me
, you overbearing
asshole. If it weren't for me, you, you wouldn't have the lifestyle you hold so
dear.”

“Women like you are a dime a dozen. I could walk down the
streets of Nashville and pick up the first cute blonde with a semidecent voice
singing on the street for quarters and dimes and probably get a more
well-mannered client than you.”

“You don't have the right to police my phone calls,” she
shouted. “You're my manager, not my lord and master. You kept a very important
phone call from me and because of you I'm going to miss the funeral of someone I
love very much. And for that, I can't forgive you.”

Trent narrowed his stare. “And what's that supposed to mean?”
He looked incredulous. “You trying to fire me, girl?”

“There's no trying about it—we're through. You stepped over the
line and this is me putting my foot in your ass. Get off my bus.”

Trent laughed. “I ain't going nowhere. This is my bus. If you
want off, you can get off right now.”

She stared hard. “If that's what it takes, that's what'll
happen. I'm not spending another ten seconds in the same space as you.”

“Careful, some words you can't take back. Think about what
you're saying.”

“Oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. And I stand by every word.
I used to think that I had to do and say everything you told me to because you
were the smart one in this relationship, you were the one who knew the business.
But I don't need you anymore. You abused the power that I gave you and frankly,
I don't even like you. I never have. And no one else likes you, either, so get
the hell out of my life.”

“Oh, you're going to regret this. And when you come crawling
back on your hands and knees, I'm going to have to think long and hard before
taking you back.”

It was Laci's turn to laugh. “As if that's ever going to
happen. I'd rather go back to playing in small honky-tonks with twenty people in
the audience than spend another minute under your thumb just to sell out venues.
I'm done.”

She grabbed her purse and walked up to the driver. “You need to
stop this bus. I'm getting off.”

The driver, paid to do as he was told, pulled off the road and
into the dirt, the tires kicking up dust as the bus slowed to a stop. As a final
gesture, Laci gave Trent the middle finger and walked off the bus. Maybe Trent
hadn't believed her, maybe he thought she was just blowing off steam, because
when she actually stepped off the bus, the expression on his face was priceless.
And very satisfying. But soon the bus left her behind and she was standing on
the side of the road with nothing but her purse and her cell phone and no idea
how to get to Woodsville, Kentucky, by four o'clock.

Well, time to put one foot in front of the other and her thumb
in the air.

It had been a long time since she'd hitchhiked, but some things
were like riding a bike.

She didn't care if she had to walk the entire way. She was
getting to that funeral.

* * *

C
ORA
A
DELLE
B
RADFORD
, born Cora Adelle Johnson, was laid to rest on an unbearably
hot fall day surrounded by countless friends and community members she'd touched
along her life. In seventy-five years, Cora Bradford had fed whole families,
taught Sunday school and shared recipes with more people than any
television-chef personality had ever dreamed possible simply by being, at her
core, a generous person.

And Kane wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not yet. But even as he
struggled with his own grief, it was nothing compared to the heartrending,
soul-wrenching grief of the man who'd fallen in love with his country girl at
the ripe age of seventeen and she was only fourteen, back when getting married
at sixteen wasn't unheard of, if the young man had a good job and solid
prospects.

The one saving grace was that Cora wasn't suffering anymore and
that's what Kane tried to console himself with, but the small consolation felt
hollow against the solid weight of his grief. Rian, wiping his eyes, kept
looking toward the back of the chapel, as if waiting for someone to arrive and
he couldn't help growling because he knew who his brother was hoping would show
up. “She ain't coming,” he said. “So stop looking.”

“She'll be here. Cora meant the world to her.”

“Sure she did.”

“Stop it,” he whispered tersely. “Don't try measuring the depth
of someone else's grief just because you're mad at them.”

Great, his little brother, the counselor. “Stop craning your
neck to see if Laci is going to show up. We're here for Cora and to say our
goodbyes. Besides, Warren needs us right now. I'm worried about the old guy.
He's not looking so good.”

Rian nodded in agreement. “Is Doc Robbins here? Maybe he could
take a look at him, just check him out.”