Chapter 26
STEVIE
Six weeks later
Walking away from Clay Calhoun had been one of the most difficult things Stevie had ever had to do, and she’d cried herself to sleep that night after she’d left him for the last time.
Lucky – or unluckily – there’d been a lot of difficult stuff to deal with the past couple of years so she was well versed in handling situations that really, really sucked.
She just hadn’t expected this to suck quite as much.
There was plenty of distractions with production on her new songs now in full swing but six weeks down the track, Stevie was still thinking about the Wyoming cowboy a little too much. The first week had been the hardest but the other five hadn’t been a walk in the park either.
She’d been trying to ignore and rationalise feelings that were so beyond what she’d ever known, but working on ‘Cowboy Kisses’ – which the record label were convinced would be her next big hit – wasn’t helping the situation.
Singing the song she’d written about Clay and about a very different world over and over and over was achingly bittersweet.
Suddenly, she felt like a foreigner in her own life.
Like she didn’t fit into Boston or this recording-studio, record-deal life any more.
It felt like being at the RVR had rewired her brain, or maybe it was just that it had tripped her true DNA into life.
Like she’d been switched at birth with city parents and that’s why this girl from Boston penned songs about honky tonks, pickup trucks and cowboys.
Checking no one around the table at the meeting she was currently in – regarding the creative and filming schedule of her music video – was looking her way, Stevie glanced at her cell phone in her lap which had lit up with an incoming notification.
Clay.
The meeting, as informative and necessary as it may be, was currently bogged down in a bunch of tech speak about camera angles that did not get her heart a’leaping like Clay’s name on her screen, so she didn’t hesitate to tap on the text.
It opened to a picture of Electra in her stall, her head out, looking strong and haughty, and was accompanied by a message.
Electra says hi.
Stevie’s heart just about melted on the spot.
She missed the routine of going out for a ride every day.
She missed the smell of horse and hay. The feel of sunshine on her shoulders, the wind in her hair, the sounds of hooves on the ground and the creak of leather beneath her butt.
She missed the rhythmic satisfaction of brushing Gertie down and the wet nudge of her nose as the horse ate an apple from Stevie’s palm.
She missed the ranch. That whole way of life.
The cookouts and the trail rides and the line dancing classes and the stars at night and The Corral and the camaraderie.
And yes, she knew a dude ranch stay was a curated slice of country living and the everyday reality was probably a lot grittier but, after living a life she didn’t really want to live for so long now, life on the RVR had still felt much more authentic.
A place she could truly be herself.
It was ridiculous to be homesick for a place she’d spent less than four weeks at and wasn’t even her home and yet, that’s how it felt.
Also, she missed him. This guy she hadn’t even known for a month.
But that was only to be expected, right?
She’d shared something special with Clay – parts of herself she’d never shared with anyone else.
And not just her virginity. She’d told him things no one else knew.
He’d been the one person she’d been truly open with, so of course she missed him, especially now she was back to the version of Stevie everyone expected.
Back to being Stephanie Everhart, Grammy-award-winning singer/songwriter.
And they had kept in touch. The picture of Electra was evidence of that.
In fact, this was what they did now. They traded photos.
The first week or two they’d texted a lot but, as both of their schedules had picked up – his with his business plans, hers with the new songs she’d written – they’d settled into a routine of mostly just daily pictures.
Clay had started it with a snap of a sunrise from his porch, and she had replied with a picture of her guitar lying on her bed.
And that’s the way they’d continued. A daily snapshot of their lives, a quick check-in that didn’t require a lot of words because the images themselves were reflections of what they knew about each other.
Each picture was relevant to something in their shared history, each one said – I see you, I remember, I know you. It was their special shorthand.
Stevie scrolled back through them now, a faint smile on her face.
Picture after picture of pastures and cows and horses.
Of the barn and the loft and the haystack.
Of the pool table at The Corral. Of his Adirondack chairs and his dusty boots.
Of Mags cornering a barrel, Ivan shoeing a horse, Beau pouring a beer, Dev laughing at something.
His – their – special spot by the stream with the leaves now turning golden.
And the numerous snaps of the sky changing colours over the mountains as the sun set and rose. Those ones were always accompanied by four little words. Wish you were here.
She stopped at one now, looking at a picture that was all breathtaking golds and misty mauves. She read the exchange with a fondness that hurt so damn bad.
Clay
Wish you were here
Stevie
Wish I was too
Clay
It’s especially purple tonight, reminds me of your eyes
Stevie
The mountains remind me of you
Clay
Yeah?
Stevie
Solid, craggy, immovable
Clay
Fucking A
She almost laughed out loud at that one.
Stevie didn’t know too many men that would take such stark descriptors as a compliment even though she had meant them as such.
But Clay had understood what she’d meant because he owned those things and out there, in the middle of Wyoming, strength and implacability meant more than any pretty words.
God, just thinking about his steadfastness made her chest ache.
‘Stevie?’
Glancing up guiltily, Stevie found her mother, her agent, two people from the record label and the director of the video all looking at her as if maybe she had laughed out loud. Smiling confidently, she went for a neutral, ‘Hmm?’
‘Just need to sign off on the location,’ Jaycee Drummond, her agent, said.
Stevie nodded at him like she’d been listening all along.
She wasn’t sure when they’d moved on from the schedule but it was clearly time to make decisions with the shoot only two weeks away.
The only reason it hadn’t been decided on yet was because Stevie, who had the ultimate say – thankfully – still hadn’t made up her mind.
‘As you know, we have temporary bookings at these four places.’ Jaycee brandished the glossy brochures Stevie had been looking at for weeks now.
‘I think the one in Texas is perfect for it,’ her mother said.
Yes, Stevie knew her mother’s thoughts because she’d reiterated them enough. And she was right, the ranch ticked all the boxes. Not least because, Stevie suspected, it was a long way from Wyoming. But the truth was the two in Montana and the other one in Iowa also ticked the right boxes.
It was just that… none of them were the Redemption Valley Ranch.
The RVR hadn’t been one of the options and she’d been fine with that – or so she’d thought.
The production company had location scouts for a reason and Stevie didn’t want to rock boats.
Even when they’d come back with these four options, Stevie had nodded and thanked them and told them she’d make a decision soon, but as she sat here looking at these brochures yet again, she knew that while they were all perfect in their own way, none of them were right.
Glancing at her phone again, she saw Clay’s snap of the mountain and her chest filled with a rush of nostalgia and a deep, gnawing desire to go back, and she knew there was only one choice.
The RVR was right.
Ignoring the brochures and avoiding looking at her mother, she said to Jaycee, ‘I want to go back to Redemption Valley for the filming.’
Four men around the table looked at each other as her mother quietly said, ‘Stephanie.’
Taking a beat to centre herself, she turned to her mother, who clearly did not like the idea at all. But damn it, Stevie had said yes to everything; they could give her this.
‘If this is about Clay, I—’
‘This isn’t about Clay,’ Stevie cut in.
Her voice was a little sharper than it should have been, but the truth was she’d spent every day of the last six weeks wishing she’d put her foot down about leaving the RVR early and she didn’t want to regret this decision. Not when the Calhoun ranch would be such an amazing backdrop.
It was the right decision. And she had Clay to thank for giving her the strength to finally advocate for herself and what she wanted.
In this at least.
‘It’s about me knowing the ranch and the terrain. I know the people and the horses. I’ll be comfortable and relaxed there. Plus I think the Calhouns deserve some quid pro quo for going above and beyond for me during my stay. Also—’ Stevie lifted her chin. ‘I won’t do it anywhere else.’
Jaycee cleared his throat as he glanced between mother and daughter, clearly taken aback by Stevie’s quiet determination. ‘I don’t know that they’d be able to… accommodate us. On such short notice.’
Turning her attention back to her agent, she said, ‘They will. They’ll do it for me.’
Stevie knew that was a big call and that her agent’s point was valid – the RVR might not be able to accommodate them.
A sudden roil of nervous energy skittered through her insides, but she refused to blink or give anyone any reason to doubt her conviction.
She might be way off base but deep inside, she knew Clay’s parents would do it if they possibly could.
‘Okay.’ Jaycee nodded. ‘I’ll get right on it.’
‘Thank you,’ Stevie murmured, a surge of confidence neutralising her nerves.
It may have taken her till now, and it may just be her first baby step, but taking back some control over her life felt good.
It felt, as Clay would say, really fucking good.