Country Nights

by Winter Renshaw

  “You’re welcome, beautiful.” I lowered my knees until I was eye level with her. “Want me to put it on you?”

  Mabry nodded and handed me the box. I fastened the silver locket around her neck and ruffled the top of her soft brown hair, and with that, she ran back toward the table to open more presents.

  “She’ll warm up to you,” Rebecca said. “Just give her time.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world.” My chest tightened as I thought about everything I’d ever missed over the past decade and everything I’d miss in the future. I wouldn’t be the one scaring away ill-intentioned boys. I wouldn’t be the one teaching her how to drive or posing beside her in graduation pictures. I wouldn’t be the one walking her down the aisle on her wedding day.

  But I’d be there for all of it, as much as I could.

  “Shall we head home?” Dakota said after a couple hours had passed.

  “I love that you’re okay with calling the ranch home now,” I said, leaning in and kissing her grinning mouth.

  “It does feel kind of unnatural after all these years, but I think I’ll get used to it.”

  We left the Valentine house and headed back to the ranch, bumping down the road in New Old Blue as Dakota flipped through listings on her phone that Addison had emailed her.

  I placed my hand on her knee as she scooted across the bench seat and curled up against my arm with her head on my shoulder. “We’re going to have to figure out some kind of schedule.” She scrunched her eyes as she zoomed in on tiny listing photos on her phone. “I’ll be working Monday through Friday. We’ll have to fly home on the weekends, assuming I don’t have any other events. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “Yes,” I said without pause. “I’m retired. I don’t have a damn thing going on, and I’ll be damned if I keep you from living your dream. I promise you, Dakota, I’ll never ask for you to sacrifice another thing for me so long as you live. And where we come from, never is a promise.”

  She pulled in a soft sigh and melted into me, and within minutes we were driving under the canopy of shade trees that lead to Mason Ranch Road.

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  “We’re really going to miss you, Coco.” The cast and crew of the MBC Morning Show gathered around an enormous cake with “Good luck, Coco!” written on it along with a portrait of my face done in digitized frosting.

  “Thanks, everyone.” I wore a painted smile and sad eyes as I looked around the room to the people who’d become like a second family to me over the years. I’d miss them all. Each and every one of them. My hair and makeup gurus. My cue card guy. My assistant. A team of producers and sound and lighting and camera people. The only person missing was Harrison, and he’d played the biggest role in helping me rise to the top. Not long after I moved out of our apartment, he accepted an executive spot at a smaller network in Los Angeles. In a roundabout way, he was fleeing his hometown the way I’d fled mine. “Thank you so much for this. I’m going to miss you all.”

  My hairstylist hugged me tight and my assistant handed me a plate with a slice of cake on it that was easily enough for two people.

  “Taylor,” I laughed. “I might be eating for two, but one is about the size of a pineapple.”

  I placed a hand across my growing belly where Beaumont Junior was growing bigger by the day. It wouldn’t be long before the third trimester travel restriction would be placed on me, and I wanted to have him back home.

  “So, you’re leaving us for the hills of Kentucky, eh?” my producer, Barbara, said. “I’ve heard it’s a beautiful state.”

  “It’s breathtaking, Barbara. It took me a very long time to appreciate that.” I forked a chunk of cake and welcomed the sugary goodness that flooded my taste buds. “I can pretend I’m a New Yorker all I want, but Kentucky is my home.”

  We wrapped up my little retirement party, and I headed uptown to the apartment I shared with my husband. He’d purchased it a couple years back so I could still work in the city.

  Beau kept his complaining about New York to a minimum, opting to head out to New Hampshire or Upstate whenever he was feeling too crammed. And on the weekends, we’d head back home to Darlington when we could.

  “Hey, Kota,” he said as I walked in the door that afternoon. A team of movers were putting all our things in boxes and hauling them down to a waiting truck. Beau headed over to me, placing his hand on my belly and bending at the knees to leave a single kiss. “Hey, little man.”

  “I’m going to miss this place,” I said, glancing over his shoulder at the view of the city. The twinkling of the city at night was like my own personal planetarium. I’d mentioned that to Beau once, but then he reminded me that back home, I’d have the real thing: actual stars I could see and more cloudless night skies than I’d know what to do with.

  “You can come back anytime you want,” he said. “Addison and Wilder are here, so we’ll be back all the time, especially when they get sick and tired of globetrotting and decide to make a little cousin for little Junior here.”

  “She hates that I’m moving back home,” I laughed, picking up a 5x7 framed photo from our wedding that had yet to be packed. Barefoot in a white country sundress with a crown of baby’s breath in my long wavy hair, it was one of the happiest days of our lives. We married back in Kentucky, under the oak tree by our favorite fishing hole just beyond the ranch. Beau’s family was there as were Mama, Addison, and Wilder. And of course Sam, Rebecca, and Mabry.

  “Think she’ll ever move back?”

  “No, no, no. Never in a million years. She loves the city even more than me, and Wilder does too.”

  I stood over the kitchen sink of the Mason ranch, washing out a casserole dish. Our neighbors to the west, the Janssens, had dropped off dinner for us the night we got back into town. A soft breeze floated in and washed over my face, bringing with it the sweet smell of lilacs from the bushes outside.

  Beau was outside talking to a man who was going to be dropping off four horses in the coming weekend. We were officially hobby horse breeders, and never in a million years did I think that would be my life.

  Gone were my days of stepping into high heels that pinched my feet and cost more than most people earned in a week, and gone were my days of finding my validation in the form of millions of faceless television viewers.

  I was no longer Coco Bissett, and I’d never be her again so long as I lived.

  There was a certain elegance in simplicity. There was luxury in peace and quiet. There was grace and refinement in the still, quiet moments. And it took me thirty-one years to realize that I’d been looking for all the right things in all the wrong places.

  Happiness was watching my husband stand outside, wheeling and dealing over Tennessee Walking horses with his hands resting in the belt loops of his tight jeans.

  Happiness was feeling my baby rumble and roll inside my belly, knowing that he was all ours and I wouldn’t have to place him into someone else’s arms for the rest of his life.

  Happiness was knowing that sweet Mabry was just a car ride away, and that we could still watch her grow up and be there for her every step of the way when she needed us.

  Happiness was knowing I could forgive someone for hurting me in the worst way imaginable and end up loving them even more anyway.

  I wiped my hands on a dishrag and set the casserole dish to dry before heading outside. The horse guy pulled away in his red truck, giving Beau a wave out the window.

  “We all good?” I asked, slipping my arm behind his lower back.

  “We are,” he said. “Three mares and a champion stallion.”

  “Let the fun begin.” I patted his back and turned to head back into the house, stopping when his hand gently gripped my arm, pulling me back into him.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Mrs. Mason?” Beau cupped my face and leaned down, crushing my lips with his. Bare grass beneath my feet tickled as I dug my toes into the earth. I loved when he kisse
d me so hard it made my toes curl.

  That was happiness.

  Acknowledgements

  This book would not have been possible if it weren’t for the help of these amazing individuals. In no particular order …

  Louisa, thank you for another beautiful cover. You captured the sweetness and the angst in the most perfect way.

  Wander and Andrey, thank you for hooking me up with a beautiful cover image!

  Ashley, thank you for beta’ing as always. I couldn’t do this without you, and I love your brutal honesty to the moon and back.

  K, C, and M—hoes for life!

  Wendy, thank you for being so flexible! You’re a dream to work with.

  Janice and Carey, thank you for always giving my books a quick and final read-through at the last minute. So appreciated!

  Neda and Liz, thank you for ALL the behind-the-scenes stuff you do. Your service is invaluable and you are a joy to work with!

  Last, but not least, thank you to all the readers and book bloggers, whether you’re a longtime loyalist or reading me for the first time. It’s because of you that I get to live my dream, and I’m forever grateful for that.

  About the Author

  Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra-portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American Dream with her husband, three kids, the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi, and her little pug pup.

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