CHAPTER 27 #2
“We haven’t rehearsed it.”
“It’s not like you don’t know the dang song.” Clayton winked. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Fine.” Jamie sighed, shaking her head. “But if this goes sideways, that’s on you.”
“Deal.” He grinned and turned toward the stage.
Clayton strode to the mic, adjusting it with easy confidence.
“Howdy, Kansas City.” The crowd erupted in cheers.
“I wrote this next song—it’s called ‘More Bad Days Than Good.’” More applause followed.
Then, with a knowing smirk, he added, “What’d you say we bring Miss Jamie Keaton up here?
I hear she’s pretty good at singing my song. ”
That was Jamie’s cue. She hugged both girls and stepped onto the stage, waving to the crowd. The roar of their cheers hit her like a tidal wave, her name echoing from every corner of the venue.
Clayton strummed the opening chords and she joined in seamlessly, their voices weaving together like they’d been doing this for years. His gaze locked onto hers as he sang the verses, something unspoken passing between them. Her heart clenched but she couldn’t look away, even if she tried.
As the song ended Clayton pulled her into a tight hug, his warmth lingering against her skin. Before she knew what was happening he pressed a kiss to her cheek. The crowd erupted, whistles and shouts filling the air.
Jamie laughed, caught between exhilaration and something far more dangerous. She slipped offstage, where the girls immediately threw their arms around her.
“I’d like to bring my girls up now,” Clayton’s voice boomed through the microphone.
The twins turned to each other, eyes wide with surprise.
“Go on, girls,” Jamie said softly, giving them a gentle nudge.
Hand in hand they crossed the stage, their steps hesitant but excited. When they reached their father he draped an arm around each of them.
“This here’s Emily . . .” He gestured to the daughter on his left. “And this is Charlotte.” The girls giggled as the crowd cheered. “And this next song is called ‘Drag Racing My Heart.’”
The audience erupted, already recognizing one of his biggest hits. As the band kicked in Clayton started singing, and the crowd sang right along. The twins twirled and danced, their laughter ringing through the speakers.
Jamie watched from the side of the stage, her heart swelling. Seeing them up there—Clayton in his element, the girls absolutely glowing—was almost too much.
Midway through the song Clayton paused for the scheduled band introductions, then grabbed the T-shirt cannon. With each shot the girls exploded in laughter, jumping and squealing as the crowd cheered.
The song ended, and as the cheers died down Clayton tipped his hat to the crowd before leading the girls offstage.
“We got you, Daddy!” Emily beamed, her grin stretching ear to ear.
Clayton grabbed a towel from Buddy and wiped the sweat from his beard. “What are y’all talking about?”
Charlotte doubled over with laughter. “The T-shirts in the cannon? We switched them with Miss Jamie’s!”
Clayton’s eyes snapped to Jamie. “Did you put them up to this?”
She held up her hands, laughing. “Nope. Their idea.”
He stared at his daughters, then shook his head with a chuckle before pulling them into a bear hug. “Now that’s a good prank.”
At the next few shows they closed every encore with “More Bad Days Than Good.” Their duet had quickly become a crowd favorite.
By now everything had clicked into place, the tour running like a well-oiled machine, their performances effortless.
The energy was electric, the music tight, and, for the first time, they were simply having fun .
Clayton still hadn’t gotten her back for the prank, but Jamie wasn’t stupid—he wouldn’t just let it go. He was waiting. Watching. And no matter how easy things felt between them onstage, she knew better than to let her guard down.
Tonight they were playing Red Rocks in Colorado. Jamie had seen pictures online—the legendary open-air amphitheater was carved between towering red cliffs, with panoramic views stretching behind the stage. It was breathtaking, even in photos.
But nothing compared to seeing it in person.
When the bus pulled into the parking lot she pressed her forehead to the window, taking in the burnt-orange rock formations rising against the endless blue sky. It looked otherworldly, like something out of a dream. A venue set in nature—she’d never played anywhere like it.
Then she stepped off the bus.
The altitude hit her like a wall, stealing the air from her lungs. She tried to take a deep breath but came up short, her head going light. Had it always been like this? She’d played in Denver before, but this was different. Thinner. Drier.
Panic flickered in her chest. Could she even sing like this?
She’d imagined this as the best show of the tour, a bucket-list moment. Now she wasn’t sure she’d make it through a single song.
The twins spent the rest of the morning helping Jamie study.
At first she felt awkward admitting she’d never finished high school, but they didn’t make a big deal out of it.
Instead they turned it into a game, quizzing her for hours with their dad’s flashcards.
Whatever confidence she’d built from rocking sold-out shows didn’t stand a chance against struggling through elementary school trivia with a pair of ten-year-olds .
Clayton wanted to take the girls to the Denver Art Museum, so Jamie took a break from studying and went along for the ride. Ruth and Nolan came too, making it a full family outing.
The museum itself was an architectural marvel—an angular, silver structure designed by Italian architect Gio Ponti. Inside, it held works by Matisse, Picasso, and O’Keeffe—Jamie’s favorite.
The girls loved Tongue , a striking painting by Richard Phillips, but weren’t impressed by Picasso. They took one look at Nature Morte and declared they could paint something better.
And they weren’t wrong.
Jamie drifted her attention to Clouds and Mountains by Vance Kirkland. The colors and movement reminded her of Red Rocks, and when she glanced at the title card she saw it had been painted in Denver. Maybe her instincts weren’t so far off.
They returned to the bus, exhausted. After three hours of walking, the thin mountain air had drained them, leaving everyone gulping down water.
Buddy boarded the bus—and he was pissed.
“Where the hell have y’all been? You’re already late for soundcheck!”
Jamie barely had time to catch her breath before their tour manager was herding her right back out. He looked more furious than she’d ever seen him, so she kept her mouth shut and followed him.
After soundcheck they ate pasta for dinner—something about carbs stabilizing blood sugar at high altitudes.
Clayton launched into a full-on TED Talk about it, but Jamie stopped listening somewhere around the phrase “glycogen stores.” Still, once her food settled she had to admit that, annoyingly, he might have been right.
When it was showtime Jamie took the stage, letting the music carry her.
The energy of the crowd was electric, their excitement feeding her performance—until she noticed them pointing behind her.
At first she assumed they were admiring the view, but something felt off.
A strange knot tightened in her stomach.
Glancing at the massive video screens, her breath caught. Footage from Star Factor rolled behind her, playing clips of her younger self in miniskirts and crop tops. She wasn’t ashamed of the show that launched her career, but the outfits? A whole different story.
Her pulse spiked as she scanned the side of the stage. Clayton stood there, shaking with laughter, clearly enjoying every second of her humiliation.
Burying the rush of embarrassment she kept her composure, channeling the crowd’s energy back into the performance. If anything they seemed to love the unexpected blast from the past. Still, the rest of her set blurred together as her mind spun through ways to get even.
As the final notes faded and she waved to the audience, her smile stayed firmly in place. But the second she stepped offstage the heat of her irritation flared, and she marched toward the one person she knew was responsible.
The twins moved away from Clayton, which was a good thing, because Jamie was ready to let him have it. She handed her guitar to Deaner and stormed toward them.
“That was amazing, Miss Jamie!” Charlotte ran up to hug her with Emily close behind.
“Great show,” Clayton said, half-covering his smirk with his hand.
Jamie narrowed her eyes. “Nice prank.” Her voice was even but her jaw tightened.
The girls exchanged glances before turning to their father.
“What happened?” Emily asked .
“Your dad thought it’d be funny to play clips from when I was on Star Factor,” Jamie said.
“That wasn’t planned?” Emily looked up at Clayton.
“I planned it myself,” he admitted.
“No, he tried to prank me,” Jamie corrected. “But the audience loved it.”
Charlotte studied her face. “Are you mad?”
Jamie smiled slowly. “I don’t get mad. I get even.”
She winked at the girls and their eyes lit up with understanding.
When the girls joined Clayton on stage during “Drag Racing My Heart,” Jamie sensed trouble. He’d just finished introducing the band when the twins ambushed him with Silly String, coating him from head to toe in sticky pink plastic.
Jamie hadn’t seen it coming, but the moment she did she lost it. Laughter burst out before she could stop it, spilling out in uncontrollable waves.
Clayton tugged at the string but it clung stubbornly to his clothes, his guitar—even his hat. Jamie watched for a moment then made a split-second decision: she wasn’t going back on stage for the last song. Let him stand there and deal with it on his own.
With a resigned huff Clayton adjusted the microphone and launched into “More Bad Days Than Good,” looking utterly ridiculous as he crooned his ballad tangled in the mess.