A Cowboy's Song

by Megan Ryder

  Zane scowled again but nodded. “I understand. We’re small fish, not important enough for you.” He turned to Ty. “We still on for this weekend?”

  She winced at the harsh words, but she wouldn’t confront them. Then his last question registered, and she turned to Ty. “You sing publicly?”

  Ty’s face was closed, a big Do Not Disturb sign pasted all over it. “Under duress and when I can convince him,” Zane responded. “See you this week. Your sister-in-law’s bachelorette party is Saturday night so consider it your gift to her.” The bar owner turned and stalked away.

  “Charming man.”

  Ty grunted. “He’s not so bad. But he runs the best, and only, bar and grill around. Are you done eating?”

  She wasn’t sure what had gotten up Ty’s ass, but something sure had, and she had a feeling that it related to singing. Dammit. But she’d made appearances before in small towns, trying to be nice, and it always backfired on her and her manager would get pissed. She knew better than to sing in small places like this unless it had connections, and the town of Granite Junction definitely didn’t have any of that.

  Besides, after the train wreck of her tour, she was totally burned out from performing and needed the break. The last thing she wanted was to get up on stage when she wasn’t prepared. She didn’t have the stage presence the rest of her family did. It took practice and a lot of planning for her.

  So why did she feel like she’d let everyone down?

  Chapter Seven

  Ty chewed over the scene in the diner as he drove them back to the ranch, a perfectly lousy way to end what had been a nice day up until that point. It was one thing when Piper, a professional musician, heard him screwing around in the barn. He could pass that off as picking at the guitar and nothing serious. But on stage at The Rock? That would be more obvious, more serious. What if she thought he had no talent, was some hick from the backwoods of Montana?

  Since when did it matter what she thought?

  Instead of digging deep into that train of thought, he turned to her refusal to sing at the bar, as if it was beneath her, as if she were too good for The Rock. Oh, he understood contracts and obligations and duty. But seriously, what could it hurt for her to sing a couple of songs for the local people? As if she’d never done that before. He called bullshit on that. She just didn’t want to. And that pissed him off.

  “Ty?” She spoke softly from the seat next to him. “Is something wrong? You haven’t said one word to me since we left the diner, barely looked at me.”

  “Just thinking about work.” He bit the lie off. He wouldn’t get into the real reason he was angry, because he honestly didn’t know how to speak his mind.

  She laid a hand on his arm, her touch burning through the flannel shirt he wore. “You do understand why I had to say no to the singing request, right? If I said yes, everyone would be asking me, and I can’t do that.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, your precious contracts.”

  She yanked her hand back, as if his skin burned her. “Yes, my contracts and my obligations. I’m not free to make decisions about my life and my singing. Hell, I can’t even dictate what I wear on stage or what songs I sing. Everything is a negotiation, a business deal. That’s my life.”

  “Then why do you do it? Sounds like hell to me.”

  “Because I have people who count on me for their livelihood. People who need their job with me. I’m a business.” Her words held a bitter note, and she faced the window, staring at the scenery going by.

  He let her words sink in. “But you’re the boss. You can change things. So why don’t you? They all work for you.”

  She laughed, a completely mirthless sound that bothered him on a visceral level. “I’m subject to the whims of my sponsors, the market, and what people will pay to listen to. Didn’t you hear me when I told Zane that my last album and tour bombed? Well, if I continue to do poorly, sponsors will abandon me and then I’m screwed. I need to listen to them, to some extent, and keep them happy.”

  “Sounds like you need to make a change,” Ty observed.

  “Easy for you to say. They’re working on new songs, and I’m sure my choreographer is working on some new routines for the stage to liven up the tour.”

  “Why aren’t you working on the songs? Shouldn’t you have input on them? Shouldn’t you be writing them?”

  She laughed again. “Tried that. That album flopped spectacularly. Apparently, it was too romantic for country music.”

  Ty snorted. “Country music is all about love and couples. How could it be too romantic?”

  “Mine were a little too much like ballads, I suppose. We’re supposed to be upbeat, rock and roll, and dance music. My second album put people to sleep and made them want to cry, and not in the good way, according to reviews.”

  Ty grunted and pulled into the long driveway to Redemption Ranch. “Well, if you haven’t had success with their ideas, give your own another shot. Why not?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” She laid her head against the glass.

  “Try me.”

  She sighed heavily, and the silence dragged until they were almost to the main guesthouse before she finally responded. “You probably heard of my parents, right? Carter and June Raines? Country music’s reigning king and queen and their chosen heir, my older brother, Colt. Try fitting in with them your whole life, keeping up with them, being part of their life. I was performing before I was in school. My life was a series of singing and dance lessons, music shows, and knowing that I had a legacy to maintain. My brother is insanely successful, in part because the women love him. But it’s harder for me. I don’t have his stage presence or his gift for songwriting.”

  Ty put the truck in park in front of his cabin and scowled at her. “Who told you that?”

  “Everyone. The reviews of my tours, the reviews of my songs I wrote, and reviews of my albums. I’m the second-class citizen in the Raines family, not as successful, not as talented, not as good. My family won’t ever say that so they help me as best they can.”

  “How? By reinforcing this belief? You know, I’m the youngest in my family here. Both my brothers are good men. West runs this ranch and was Douglas’s right-hand man, finding ways to keep it afloat even when times got tough. He’s the spine of the family, keeping us strong and focused. Chase, he comes across like a jokester, but he’s the charming one, the heart of our family. He loves so much once he gives his heart, but it takes a while to get past his walls. Once you do, you’re there for life. He’s also been contributing to the ranch on the rodeo circuit, as a bull rider, putting his life on the line every night to keep us afloat.” His voice trailed off as he watched Dundee crest the hill and come running toward the truck, barking.

  Piper tentatively reached out, placed a hand on his, providing comfort. “And you? Where do you fit in?”

  “Great question. I guess I’m the muscle, providing support wherever I’m needed.” He flashed her a quick grin to hide his own feeling of insecurity, the growing sense that he wasn’t sure where he fit in anymore on the ranch, that worry that he wasn’t contributing like everyone else. Like her, he often felt like an afterthought, a pair of hands to help out wherever anyone needed him. But if he was no longer here? They could just hire someone else. He wasn’t critical to the running of the ranch.

  Where was his place? Where did he belong?

  *

  The last thing she had expected was a baring of the soul between her and Ty, or to find common ground between the two of them. After he had dropped his own bombshell about feeling the same way she did with his own family, he quickly exited the truck and greeted Dundee, effectively ending the conversation. They hadn’t resolved their disagreement about her refusal to sing at The Rock, but somehow that point seemed lost in the overall discussion.

  But her mind mulled over the point he had tried to make. Why couldn’t she try something new? Why shouldn’t she take some measure of control over her own career? When she was jus
t starting out, it made sense to listen to those wiser and more experienced than her, namely her parents and their business manager, who became hers by default. Darren was a good manager and worked well with her agent, Angela, who scheduled her tours and worked with her label. But maybe Ty was right. Maybe she had fallen into a rut, into their expectations of what she should be doing instead of controlling her own future and career. Lord knew, the music reviews were all saying that, and she was going nowhere fast. Maybe it was time for a new direction. Only, she wasn’t sure that was what she wanted—not that she had any other ideas.

  As if conjured up by her thoughts, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and saw her mom’s smiling face.

  “How is the latest tour going, Mom?”

  “Hello, baby. Just a few more stops, then we’ll be back home. I swear, these tours get longer and longer every year.”

  Her mother pretended to be tired, but Piper knew the truth. Her mother and father found new energy out on the stage and drew from the crowd, not to mention each other. When they performed, there was a special connection between the two of them that was almost tangible, and it was that connection that helped catapult them to stardom. Crowds adored them, and they loved it. Her brother had the same talent.

  Performing drained Piper, and she had to work so hard to engage the audience. Choreography was a critical part of her show, and she rarely ad-libbed anything. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a sell-out crowd, and she knew her agent and business manager were worried. She dreaded the next tour, but first, she had to record another album.

  Her mom updated her about their tour while Piper was a bit more circumspect about her own, and her mom finally got down to business. “So, Darren tells me the numbers weren’t great on your last tour. How are you doing, honey?”

  Yup, here it was. The dissection of her career. At least she wasn’t home so there couldn’t be a family meeting about it, though when she got home from Montana, her parents would initiate a more detailed discussion. Music was the family business, and they all worked together. It was incestuous, really, but her parents believed they made each other stronger. Unfortunately, Piper was the millstone around their necks.

  “You’ve seen the reviews. The music wasn’t a hit, not by a long shot. I’d like to make a change, maybe try some of my songs. The market has changed, and I think the time might be right for it.”

  Her mother’s soft sigh told Piper all she needed to know. “Piper, you know we love you, but your songs didn’t go over well before. I agree that the selection this last time may have been too light, too pop music for your voice. But I’m not sure we want to go in that direction.”

  Piper leaned her head against the back of the couch and stared at the beams that crossed the log cabin ceiling, trying not to feel betrayed by her own mother. “Shouldn’t I have a say in my career? I don’t think it could get much worse, honestly.”

  “Of course it could, Piper. You need a hit, and I agree the last album wasn’t right, but I’m not sure your songs are either. Darren has a few new songs he wants to get your thoughts on. I think they’re strong options and could really help you rebound after this album. They’re more soulful, which I think is more your speed. But you’ll have to work harder on stage to engage the crowd.”

  “Maybe I should do fewer concerts or smaller venues. I do better in the smaller places, more intimate, not as much planned choreography. It’s more audience interaction.” A male voice spoke in the background, and her mother gave a low laugh. “Is that Daddy?”

  “Yes, your father just poked his head in. We’re going to grab a late lunch before we have to be at the stadium. Listen, I’ll talk to Darren and get his thoughts on what you said. We’ll talk when we’re all back home. Give our love to Tara and congratulations on her wedding!”

  “Bye, Mom. Tell Dad I love him.”

  Piper hung up and let the phone fall to the couch next to her, blinking back tears. Even her own family didn’t think she had the talent to write music. Why did she think she could do it? She avoided her guitar and decided to go for a walk, clear her head. Maybe the fresh air would wipe away the negativity and help her refocus on the music starting to dance in her brain since she’d come to Redemption Ranch.

  Chapter Eight

  Piper had somehow agreed to help set up the bachelorette party with Emma, since Hailey was still dealing with end of tax season for some of her clients and Sierra had called not it and run. Smart woman. How hard was a bachelorette party? Some alcohol, invitations, and a few innocent games. Really, easy-peasy.

  Apparently, not with Emma Holt running the show.

  There were no decent stores in Granite Junction for the appropriately sexy party favors. And by sexy, Emma meant dirty. So, they drove to Missoula. Rather, Emma drove—she was suitably appalled when she found out Piper couldn’t drive.

  “What do you mean, you don’t drive? How do you get around places?”

  “I live in a city. We have drivers, Uber, Lyft, you know. We call people.” Piper shrugged.

  Emma shook her head. “We’d be waiting for days if we waited for someone to drive us around here. Isn’t that, you know, limiting? What if you need a quick something at the store?”

  “I have it delivered.”

  Emma pursed her lips and stared at the highway for several long minutes, letting the country music fill the silence along with the clacking from the tires on the road. Piper stared out the window, uncomfortable and feeling inadequate compared to these women who didn’t need anyone to do anything for them. She couldn’t even go to the corner store for basic supplies.

  “Could you teach me?” The words slipped out before she could call them back.

  Emma hesitated, looking at her doubtfully. “Have you ever driven before?”

  “Sure, I used to have a license, but with touring and school, I rarely needed to drive anywhere, so when it lapsed, I was on the road and just didn’t renew.” She crossed her fingers out of sight, hoping Emma wouldn’t catch the slight waver in her voice. She hadn’t been the most confident driver, hating the traffic and congestion in Nashville, and her family refused to drive with her and had been the biggest advocates of her not driving. “You know what, never mind. Maybe Ty can teach me.”

  Emma burst out laughing. “Good luck with that. Trust me, guys are protective of their trucks. They’ll let you take a spin on their junk before letting you drive their truck. Have you ever wondered why there are so many beat-up rust buckets around?”

  “I figured it’s because they can’t afford anything better.”

  “Nope, it’s because they love their babies, more than their women in many cases. Ty will never teach you how to drive his truck.”

  “Will you? Let me drive your truck?” Piper asked, with a sly sideways glance.

  Emma frowned, her hand almost caressing her very own beat-up truck’s dash. “It’s just, she’s special, unique. She requires a special touch, you know?” Emma caught Piper’s knowing look and laughed. “Okay, fine. I love my truck. But only because I bought her all on my own when I turned eighteen. Fine. When we get back to Granite Junction, I’ll let you try it. But if she gets so much as a scratch, you’re a dead woman.”

  Piper crossed her heart. “I promise she won’t.”

  “But you owe me, Piper Raines. And I know just the way you can pay me back.” Emma waggled her eyebrows, and Piper groaned.

  She’d known Emma barely a week, but that special glint in the other woman’s eye was enough to make Piper very suspicious. Emma grinned. “It won’t be anything bad. Boy, Tara really gave you a warning about me, huh? You know I work at the high school as a counselor, right? Well, we have some students who are really into music but not the band kind of kids. Anyway, they don’t see much of a future in music, mostly because kids around here see a limited path. Ranching, rodeo, and maybe a few other paths depending on their family. Music is rarely on the radar.”

  Piper frowned and tugged on her lower lip. “I don�
�t know, Emma. I don’t have much in common with your kids. I mean, I’m from the city, kind of born into the whole music scene. It’s different. I think Ty would have a better connection with them.”

  “Ty comes and talks to them sometimes, but he’s a rancher, not a musician. They’d really love to hear from a real music star. Someone who isn’t from around here and who actually gets it. Come on. If I’m going to let you drive my truck, you owe me.”

  Piper grimaced. What would she say to these kids? Would they figure out she was a fraud? Not a real star, just lucky? “Sure, but you have to be there to run interference.”

  “Deal.”

  *

  Ty walked out of the barn and saw a small dust cloud coming down the driveway toward the house. A silver GMC Sierra barreled down the dirt road, though barreled might have been a misnomer considering it was going pretty slow and weaving all over the place, even riding up on the grass in some places.

  “Who the fuck is that?” West said. “They drunk or just stupid?”

  “Looks like Emma’s truck. Wasn’t she taking Piper to Missoula for some shopping today?” Ty asked.

  Both men headed toward the house and watched as the truck slowly came to a stop, just inches from the white fence rail Tara had just painted in front of the house. The passenger door opened, and Emma stumbled out and knelt on the dirt, miming kissing it.

  “Thank you, Jesus. I’m safe.”

  “Give it a rest, Emma. It wasn’t that bad,” Piper called out from inside the cab.

  Emma glared from her place on her knees. “Are you fucking kidding me? It was worse! Get out of my truck now. Poor Silver Sorceress. She’ll never be the same again. I can’t even sell her now. She’s ruined for all drivers.”

  Piper opened the driver’s door and hopped down. “As promised, not a scratch or even a dent. I didn’t speed. And what kind of name is Silver Sorceress for a truck?”