Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
‘You ready for this?’
Stevie shut her eyes as Clay folded her in his arms and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
She liked these quiet moments before the show started, standing in the wings, looking out at the intimate audience of two hundred sitting around the stage arena style, pinching herself that she’d somehow managed to get everything she wanted.
And tonight it was extra special because Clay was here.
He’d joined her on the road a few times now but him being in Nashville for this, her last performance of the tour, was extra special.
It was because of him and the courage his steadfast love had given her that she wasn’t in the middle of a panic attack now at the thought of performing to tens of thousands.
She also had her mother to thank. Cindy Everhart had been frighteningly efficient in her advocacy of her daughter, working with Jaycee and the record label to come up with a way everyone could get what they wanted.
The idea of doing smaller, in-the-round, unplugged shows had been her idea.
Yes, less tickets were able to be sold but that only made them more sought after, which created even greater interest in Stevie and her songs.
Stevie Everhart was the hottest ticket in town and everybody was talking about her, which made her concerts exclusive and allowed the promoters to charge more. Not to mention the smaller scale events were much cheaper to run allowing them to do more shows for less.
It was a win-win.
Would they have still preferred packed stadiums?
Yes. Same with the fans. But it was better than Stevie not touring at all, so they’d wisely compromised.
And after a heartfelt social media post talking about her anxiety condition, Stevie had been the recipient of an outpouring of love and understanding that had tamped down a lot of disquiet in her fandom.
Of course the runaway success of ‘Cowboy Kisses’ – far exceeding even their most grandiose expectations – had gone a long way in convincing the label they needed to keep Stevie sweet.
So, finally, when the tour was over, they were giving her time and space to do what she really wanted – write songs.
Songs that they knew would be hits whether Stevie sang them or another artist made them their own.
And Stevie was counting down the days.
‘I’m so ready,’ she murmured, twining her arms around Clay’s neck, the flash of a diamond sparkling on her left ring finger where once a different ring had sat.
There was so much to look forward to after tonight.
In the summer they were getting married at the ranch.
Clay and Mags had signed several stock contracts, and Stevie’s studio was just about built.
She’d already had interest from other artists she knew about potentially using the studio to record and Clay’s mom had suggested running retreats for songwriters at the ranch in conjunction with the studio.
Life was good.
Was it the kind of life that Yolly had dreamed of for them all those years ago? No. But Stevie knew that, somewhere on high, her sister was looking down and smiling.
‘I love you, Clay Calhoun,’ Stevie whispered, her heart full.
‘I love you, Stevie Everhart.’
Then he kissed her all cowboy-like, and she knew that whatever happened going forward, they’d be together and that was all that mattered.