by D. D. Scott
Both of them too spent to continue on their knees, they moved to the barn’s floor, collapsing into each other’s arms.
With their bodies both still trembling, tiny aftershocks and jolts of joy flooded Roxy’s circuits. She stayed huddled together with him, tucked into the strong curves of his body, swaddled in the warmth of his love.
With one ear, Roxy listened to the rain beating down on the barn’s roof, while her other ear picked up the strong rhythm of Zayne’s heart.
He’d taught her to move to life’s music in an entirely different way. For the first time, she was free to dance to her own soul. And she wasn’t afraid of stumbling. Zayne was always there to get her back onto her feet.
So wrapped-up in her discoveries, she almost missed the radio announcer when his voice finally broke through the static. Zayne handed her one of the radios.
“Take this one, Princess, and listen in. I’ll catch the NOAA alert.”
Roxy did as Zayne asked. But to keep her headache from reappearing, she turned down the volume on her unit.
As the radio station’s news reporter rambled on and on about the storm, telling the listening audience he’d soon be live on the scene of the city’s hardest hit areas, Roxy leaned her wet head against one of the bales, blowing away the loose hay falling onto her lips.
“Looks like it blew over the farm, but I don’t think the west side of Nashville was as lucky.” Zayne turned to her, taking the radio away from her ear and cranking up the volume.
Thank God The Moms, her friends, and the saloon were safe, she thought, feeling her body relax with the report. They were on the east side of the city. But as soon as she’d breathed in a bit of relief at their safe location, her body stiffened and cramped into tiny knots of agony.
“Oh my God.” She threw her hands to her mouth, stifling the urge to scream. “Raeve.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Four hours later, Roxy stood with Zayne, his arm around her shoulder, holding her close. They’d finally been allowed into the area the twister left in its wake.
Roxy had been silent for several minutes. And even though she knew Zayne was waiting for her to say something, she couldn’t find the words. How could she express the feeling of losing everything she’d worked years to create?
In the rubble that once formed The Tractor Supply Store and her beloved Raeve, an emergency worker’s searchlight landed on a sparkling piece of silver.
Breaking away from Zayne and ignoring the sheriff’s deputy’s request for her to stay clear of the debris until he thought it was safe to walk on, Roxy slowly made her way through what was left of her boutique.
Reaching the illuminated object, she leaned over and plucked it from the surrounding devastation. As if the storm had also destroyed a dam inside her soul, tears flooded her cheeks. Her heart poured out her pain.
Holding up a belt buckle, the first one she’d designed in the Buckles Me Baby Collection, Roxy used her fingers then her soaked shirt to wipe-off the filthy muck covering the precious stones and silver. Turning back to Zayne, seeing FEMA’s spotlights reflecting off his tears, she lost what little strength she had left.
Collapsing into the heap of debris, she pounded her fists against the remains of a display unit once belonging to Raeve.
All her hard work had been blown to bits. Her inventory, gone. Her supplies, gone. Her drawings, gone.
Zayne came to her side, kneeled down and bundled her into his jacket.
She couldn’t feel his or the material’s warmth. She was numb, slowly closing-out the world around her. Looking through the fog swirling in her head, Roxy fought to stay clear of the vacuum desperately trying to trap her inside a never-ending tunnel of despair.
Peep. Peep-peep. Peep. A small, high-pitched peep suddenly reached deep into her subconscious. Refusing to let go. Determined not to let her give-up.
Peep. Peep.
Roxy forced her eyes to focus in the direction of the desperate cry.
A baby chick, shaking its wet fuzz, called for help while trying to take refuge against Roxy’s jeans.
She picked up the trembling critter. Trying to conserve its body heat, she closed her hands around its tiny form.
Although Roxy didn’t see its incubation tub in the rubble nor any of the other dozens of chicks calling the supply store their temporary home, this lucky devil had survived.
“I’m going to call you Lucky,” she whispered into the chick’s soft, fuzzy head. “Do you have room for this little one at the farm, Old McDonald?”
“I think we can take her in,” Zayne said, running his hand over the chick’s head.
He then put both his arms around Roxy and pulled her towards him, resting her head against his chest.
She gazed up into his eyes, basking in the love she saw, knowing that was enough to get her through the storm.
Before she pulled herself together enough to speak, she was surrounded by Kat, Lily, Jules and Audrey. Just the sight of them brought back her tears.
“We came as soon as we heard,” Kat said, brushing strands of matted hair out of Roxy’s eyes.
“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.” Roxy’s mother knelt in front of her, cupping her chin in her hands. “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll find a new location. Have you re-opened in no time.”
“Hey, sweetie,” Jules said. “Audrey and I are here as long as you need us.”
Audrey bent down, closing the circle of love, offering no words, just her sweet smile.
Two days later, the full impact of her loss sinking in, Roxy soaked in her jet tub. She closed her eyes, slipping down into the hot water, resting her head on a spa pillow she’d borrowed from her mother.
She was talked out. The silence surrounding her in her master suite was a welcome refuge from the pandemonium of the last forty-eight hours.
She knew she had decisions to make. Decisions no one could make but her. Although Zayne, The Moms, Jules and Audrey, and even Cody and Damian had each pitched in their suggestions.
For their love and support, Roxy would be eternally grateful. For sanity, however, she’d retreated to her suite.
Concentrating on the smell of her Caribbean therapy bath oil, she relaxed. The intoxicating aromas of peaches, coconut, and vanilla transported her far away from her tub and her troubles.
Submerging her mind under the steamy bath, along with her loofah sponge, Roxy tested the waters of her choices.
She could pack-up and move back to Manhattan. Or she could face the storm and the music of the life she’d made here in Nashville.
She stretched her neck, moving it around her shoulders, seeing how each decision felt. With each twist, turn and pop, she weighed her potential for happiness.
With her country couture belt buckles, Roxy had made Raeve a success. And she could do it again, especially with the designs she’d signed to do for Deena Mettles. Once the CMT talent pool saw her accessories in country music videos and magazines, Raeve would make it to the big leagues.
But where did that leave Zayne?
They’re chemistry was real, both on the dance floor and off, a sweet serendipity Roxy couldn’t defy even if she wanted to. She loved him, and no matter how different their worlds were on the outside, their hearts and feet were in sync.
Her dilemma wasn’t whether or not to pursue their future together. The issue was about the form that future would take based on each of their career decisions.
She pushed-in the button to get the tub jets whirling, letting the sound of the engine stir the water as well as her soul.
Maybe her and Zayne’s timing — personally and professionally — wasn’t as bad as it first appeared.
What’s to say they shouldn’t take a shot at more than their relationship? How about the reality TV venue? Agreeing to do the dance show and taping the episodes at The Neon Cowboy, would certainly help Zayne build a reputation as Nashville’s premier bootscootin’ cowboy. Perhaps it would even give him a following to start his own studio.
Focusing on quieting the cloud of emotions tumbling through her heart, Roxy took a deep breath.
At least Zayne knew about the Baudlins’ betrayal and could go to the contest judges with the information. That is, if he wanted to. As of yesterday, he hadn’t made-up his mind how to handle Jack and his father. He’d chosen instead to spend the last two weeks before the contest deadline attempting to salvage his Brandywines.
Roxy pulled the stopper out of the bottom of the tub, draining her sorrows with the bath water. She wrapped her body in a fluffy pink towel.
If success was happiness, she thought, then what was the best way she could merge their worlds? Country music and Manhattan weren’t exactly strangers. There was always honky-tonkin’ in the Big Apple. And she’d brought the Big Apple’s style to Music City USA along with a gorgeous grapevine and beautiful box-step.
Life was meant to be fun, for her and everyone else on the dance floor. It was time Roxy cut her losses and threw her own curves into the mix.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hello, Nashville,” Roxy spoke into the saloon’s speaker system, thrilled by the packed house she commanded. “It’s time for the announcement you’ve all been waiting for.”
She took-out the envelope the Tomato Festival Chairman handed her before she went on stage. “Drum roll, please.”
The house drummer laid his sticks against his snare, tapping them slowly at first, gradually picking up speed until it was impossible to tell when one stick was down and the other lifted from the drum.
Roxy’s nerves rolled with the beat. Her pulse raced in an even heat with the snare.
A silent hush fell over the crowd.
Roxy exchanged a lingering look with Zayne, a message of reassurance and love only the two of them could decipher. She wasn’t sure which role was more stressful — supporting the one you love when their dreams are at a crossing point or being the one in the partnership waiting to see which path was opening and which was closing for the love of your life.
Right now, she’d pick the supportive role as the bigger point of angst. She’d never felt so helpless. There was absolutely nothing she could do for Zayne except be there for him and with him. No matter which path they were about to journey down, they’d make it together.
Roxy really didn’t care whether she ended up a dancing queen or the Red Rocket Brandywine Tomato Princess. She’d make sure she had time for both, along with maintaining her belt buckle empire and keeping her cowboy happy. When she was at the height of her game, why give up her neurotic energy level?
Opening the envelope, Roxy took a deep breath. As she removed the certificate inside, her hands shook. This was it. The new direction of their life written in fancy script on the certificate she was about to read.
She paused a moment, not just for dramatic effect, but to give herself time to soak in the answer to her life’s riddle. She’d finally figured it out.
Success was happiness.
And the look she’d exchanged with Zayne had shown her what happiness in her world consisted of.
It really didn’t matter whether or not Zayne won this contest. He’d beat the odds just like Roxy had. He’d stared down impossibility and turned it into his own successful reality.
But there was more than that, Roxy now knew. Much more. They’d achieved their dreams by relying on each other.
Roxy, once the queen of doing things her way or no way, had taken the biggest risks in her life. She’d counted on people. She’d allowed them to help her go for the gusto. And they’d caught her when she’d taken a tumble…or two. She’d also been there for them. Yes, success had brought her happiness. But achievement didn’t mean a damn without people to share her joy.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this year’s Best Hybrid Tomato Contest is…”
Roxy read the name on the certificate. Her heart leapt out of her chest and onto the dance floor.
“The Neon Cowboy’s own…Zayne McDonald.”
The look on Zayne’s face wrapped around Roxy’s soul and would forever be a permanent fixture in her heart. She’d never forget the sweet, tender relief washing over his face and his shoulders finally relaxing. When his sexier-than-sexy grin reaffirmed its place, Roxy’s spirit soared. She planned to spend a lifetime and then some keeping that look she loved from fading.
As Zayne stood and approached the stage, the crowd went wild.
Roxy couldn’t keep her excitement contained any longer. She ran down the stage steps, meeting him halfway across their dance floor. This time, she managed to skim across the divots in the floor he’d rescued her from not too far in their past. Her life was finally built on solid ground.
Zayne picked her up, tossed his cowboy hat into the air then twirled her in circles. Even after he set her on her feet, Roxy’s body, a bundle of joyous energy, seemed to continue twirling, spinning months then years into their future.
She had it all, Roxy thought, taking Zayne’s hand.
Before she could continue basking in just that fact alone, they were rushed by Kat and Lily, Jules and Audrey, and Cody and Damian. In one steadfast human circle, Roxy’s new family took center stage. Draping their arms across each other’s shoulders, they bowed their heads into the center of the circle. No one said anything. No words could do justice to the emotions of their moment. What they’d accomplished together, not one of them or even two could have done alone.
By simply being there for each other, sharing the glory days as well as the dog days, the triumphs and the tragedies, the successes and the failures, they were all responsible for this success.
Roxy had opened her heart and made room for the love she’d once been afraid to let-in. Her body overwhelmed by the thought of what would have become of her if she’d never found the courage to follow her dreams, she shuddered.
Zayne kissed her cheek then broke their familial circle long enough to go to the stage and accept his award.
Once upon a time, Roxy would have feared the gap left behind by the physical absence of someone she loved. Not anymore. She could finally take comfort that her family loved her enough to come back. And better yet, even when they were physically apart, their hearts and love kept them strong and together. No more over-priced, surrogate au pairs providing love for a paycheck. Roxy had a real family to welcome her home. She’d no longer accept for-hire substitutes.
Taking the microphone, Zayne’s hands shook while he looked out at the crowd.
In his brief silence, he took the time to not only compose his thoughts but to bask in his victories. And he wasn’t thinking about his newfound tomato king reign. The victories he contemplated were much more important to him and always would be.
He rested his gaze on the two women who completed his world. His mom and Roxy stood together, their arms wrapped around each other, neither one of them talking. Too bad he didn’t have his camera. Even with a photo to prove it, he’d have a hard time believing something could render those two simultaneously speechless.
Speaking of speeches, he was so mesmerized by his girls’ silence, he almost missed the quiet chants of the saloon’s crowd. Once the noise made a grand crescendo into an anxious roar coupled with the clinks of silverware to frosted-glass beer mugs, Zayne caught on.
Speech, speech, speech, the crowd cheered.
Zayne cleared his throat and brought the microphone to his mouth.
“Wow. Not only am I speechless. But the festival committee should be congratulated for rendering my two favorite ladies the same. That, my friends, is truly remarkable,” Zayne said to the crowd’s rowdy hee-haws.
He then raised his microphone in salute of his mom and Roxy who raised their mugs right back with eat-shit grins replacing their beautiful smiles.
Noting their contagious, ornery spirits, Zayne’s insides bubbled-over with a zest for the humor in life he often didn’t take time to enjoy.
“And speaking of remarkable, I’m honored to have been able to help bring my dad’s Red Rocket Brandywine dreams to ketchup bottles across the country.”
Zayne could hardly fight back the tears rimming his eyes. Finally seeing his goal achieved, Zayne wondered if even his manly man dad wouldn’t have broken down.
“This one’s for you, Dad.”
Starting with one stimulus Zayne never would have expected to initiate the celebration, the crowd went wild. Jack Baudlin stood, lifted his mug, and with a voice soft at first, but more robust as the crowd picked up his efforts, began to chant ‘Kent, Kent, Kent’.
A thunder of boots hitting the saloon’s hardwood floors joined the voices. Every higher decibel reached brought Zayne’s tears closer to spilling. Seeing his mom and Roxy’s pride already flowing, Zayne released his emotions, allowing his tears to find their way over his cheekbones before they rolled off his McDonald jaw line.
“There are a few additional people I’d like to mention tonight, without whom, I wouldn’t be up here accepting this contract,” Zayne said bringing one hand to his brow bone to shield the spotlights while he searched the crowd. “Cody, Damian, Jules, Audrey…and let’s see…Lily. Where are you guys?”
Assisting Zayne’s search, the follow spot operator panned the crowd, hitting on gold in the center of the room. Still in their protective, love-filled circle stood Zayne’s posse, their mugs and glasses raised.
“Thanks guys. And gals too. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
“We’re the lucky ones,” Lily hollered, raising her glass a bit higher than the rest and winking at her future son-in-law.
Well, she didn’t know yet that he’d be related to her in that way, but she would soon, Zayne promised himself.
“Thank you, Lily. But for the extra practice, I’m going to start arguing with you now,” Zayne said then laughed. “I’m the lucky one.”
He turned his attention to his mother and Roxy, taking comfort in the fact that just the site of them soothed his rattled nerves. How he’d ever do a prime time television show when standing in front of one room of people made him a wreck he wasn’t quite sure. But, just like his mom and Roxy had given him, he’d give it his all.