A Hero’s Haven

by Tessa Layne

  It pained her to admit that Cheyenne was right. It hit her like a kick in the gut. Her mother and Franco would never listen to her. Somewhere in her journey to stardom, her mother had ceased being a proud mama and looked at her only with dollar signs in her eyes. Pain knifed through her throat as it tightened. Kate blinked rapidly. She couldn’t afford to break down now. If she gave in to tears now, all the despair and worry she’d bottled up for months would spill out and she wouldn’t be able to stop. And that would be bad for her voice too.

  Pulling in a shaky breath, she listened to the angry voices carry down the hall. Her heart punched a hole in her chest as she wrestled with her fear. It was time. Beyond time. The months of enforced silence had given Kate more than enough time to reflect. She glanced at her left wrist where the temporary tattoo she’d put on last night with Cheyenne peeked up at her in bold script. Brave.

  What she planned to do might hurt, but she could be brave.

  Grabbing her notebook and a sharpie, Kate marched back to where the noise had escalated into shouting. She paused at the door, taking in the scene. Cheyenne vibrated with righteous indignation as she stood toe to toe with Franco. Helene’s composure had slipped, her face twisted into a condescending sneer.

  The corner of Kate’s mouth tipped up. Cheyenne was scrappy. She wasn’t afraid of anyone. Or anything, as far as Kate could tell. Just for once, she wanted that. Wanted just a fraction of Cheyenne’s fearlessness. Wanted the courage to say what she really thought, not what everyone expected. Kaycee Starr always said the right thing. Charmed the pants off the press. Smiled benignly at the creepy advances from men twice her age who only saw her as a decoration for their arm. Listened to her mother and did what she was told. Kate Montgomery not so much. Kate Montgomery wanted to kick ass and take names. Kate Montgomery wouldn’t let people treat her like some object to be used or manipulated. She glanced at her wrist again. Brave. Kate Montgomery was brave, and if she didn’t feel brave, she could fake it ’til she made it.

  Bringing her fingers to her lips, she let out a deafening whistle. Ouch. Her throat cried in protest, but it had done the trick. Three sets of eyes turned to stare at her. She scribbled on her notepad and held it up. Helene’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t be melodramatic, Kaycee darling,” she snapped.

  I’m Kate. I’m Kate. I’m Kate. She shook her head and glared at her mother, then wrote on the flip side. OUT.

  “I don’t think you can do that,” Franco sputtered.

  “Actually, she can,” Cheyenne answered. “And she just did, so now would be a good time to go.”

  Helene’s mouth tightened, making her look more like a prune than a concerned parent. “You don’t mean that, Kaycee. You’re tired. You used to do this when you were overly tired as teenager.”

  And I was too afraid to stand on my own two feet. Kate flipped the page back, underlining the words and adding a few exclamation points for emphasis. YOU’RE FIRED!!!!!!!! She pointed to the front entry, flicking her wrist.

  Her mother’s gaze sharpened, turning to steel. “You don’t know what you’re doing. There will be consequences for this.”

  There always are. Kate stood her ground, not flinching under her mother’s scrutiny, and slowly tilted her head toward the entryway. Helene stayed rooted to the floor, expression daring her to make another move. I am brave. I am brave. Heart racing, Kate spun and marched to the foyer, heaving the door wide, gripping the knob to disguise the shaking in her hands. After what seemed like ages, her mother and Franco followed. Franco didn’t say anything, but his face was red. He was one of the most sought-after agents in country music. He’d probably never been unceremoniously dumped before. Kate shoved down a bitter laugh. First time for everything.

  Her mother paused in the doorway, staring at her for a long moment. Surely she understood why this was necessary? Why it was time for her to go it alone for a while? Helene had been young once too. With big dreams and hopes. And yes, she’d put them aside when she discovered she was pregnant, but Kate had made sure her mother would never want for anything. She’d been a good daughter and done the right thing.

  “We’ll discuss this later,” Helene spoke tightly and swept out the door.

  CHAPTER 3

  Kate deflated at the barb in her mother’s voice. Blinking back the sudden prickles in her eyes, she quietly shut the door and sank to the floor against it, hands tingling from the adrenaline flowing.

  After a minute, footsteps sounded on the tile floor. “Can I make you a cup of tea?” Cheyenne asked gently.

  “Sure,” she whispered, pulling herself to her feet and following Cheyenne down the hall. She sank onto a stool at the long granite countertop, staring at but not seeing Cheyenne put on the hot water.

  Cheyenne pulled out two mugs and squeezed the plastic bear, filling the bottoms with honey. Then she reached for a lemon and rolled it against the counter. “Well. That was exciting.”

  Understatement of the year. Kate pushed down a giddy laugh. She couldn’t laugh. Not now. But the feeling pushed up, demanding to be let out. Her shoulders shook from holding it in.

  Cheyenne smirked. “I’ve never seen Franco so mad he looked constipated.”

  Kate laughed hoarsely, trying to control the shaking. “Stop. You know it’s not good for me,” she said, even as more giggles bubbled up.

  Cheyenne’s mellower chuckle joined her. “Maybe it’s just what you need. They say laughter is the best medicine.”

  “Unless you’re a singer.” Her sides began to ache. “Singers aren’t allowed to laugh.”

  “Wrong.” Cheyenne caught her eyes and started to laugh again. “Only repressed assholes aren’t allowed to laugh.”

  Why was that so funny? Kate gave in to another fit of giggles. Voice be damned. This felt good. The two women laughed until tears streamed from their eyes and the pot whistled. Kate wiped her eye. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she spoke quietly again, like she’d been instructed by the otolaryngologist.

  Cheyenne handed her a steaming mug. “Aww hell. Who’re we kidding, Kate? You’re done. You won’t even get hired on to wait tables at the Bluebird Café after this.”

  They looked at each other and dissolved into another fit of giggles. Kate laughed until her throat hurt. “Do you really think I’m done?” She asked soberly after taking a sip of the soothing liquid.

  Cheyenne turned serious. “Have you tried singing?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “Too afraid?”

  She nodded. No use keeping the truth from her. Cheyenne was no dummy.

  Cheyenne peered at her over the lip of the mug. “Well… you could always adopt four cats and take up knitting.”

  Kate didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t help it. Cheyenne had tried for years to teach her to knit, with disastrous results, finally giving up on their last tour.

  “Okay. So no knitting in your future. What do you want to do?”

  That was the crux of it. She had no clue. She’d been trained to do one thing from childhood, and she’d performed like a circus monkey, doing exactly what was expected of her, and taking her reward in praise and false affection. “That’s just it,” she wailed hoarsely. “I don’t know. I don’t even know who I am outside of Kaycee Starr.” She buried her face in her hands. “I just want to be Kate. And go someplace where no one’s ever heard of Kaycee Starr. Someplace where I can be me. Find me.”

  Cheyenne pulled on her hands, clasping them together. “Everyone deserves that chance, Kate. But I can tell you this. The Kate I know is strong. And brave. You just need to get more comfortable with her. And maybe now with your mom and Franco out of the way, you can do that.”

  Kate shook her head sadly. “But not here. How can I do that with momma hovering and the press circling like sharks? Following me everywhere in town?”

  “Then we get you out of here.”

  “But where? Where could I go?” Someone was sure to recognize her. People who packed stadiums full of people, people who ha
d stalkers didn’t have the luxury of wandering around unnoticed.

  Cheyenne snapped her fingers, excitement growing on her face. “I think I know just the place.”

  Kate cringed. “Lemme guess. You’re buddies with Richard Branson and he’s got a spare cottage on his island?”

  Cheyenne snorted. “I know this cute little town in the Flint Hills, not far from Winfield, where I play the Walnut Valley Festival every year. It’s real sweet and the milkshakes at the diner are the best. People there are friendly and down to earth.”

  “And what am I supposed to do there? Sing for my supper?” She coughed, bracing for the accompanying ache in her throat. “An alley cat probably sounds better than me right now.”

  Cheyenne shrugged. “It’s ranch country, and you’re one of the best horsewomen I know. At least in the circles we run in. Prairie’s the kind of place that if you’re good with a pitchfork, no one will bat an eyelash. Work at the diner. Muck stables. I’m sure you can find something.”

  “Even if I can’t talk?”

  “You don’t need a voice to shovel horse shit.”

  An ice-cold tendril of fear snaked through her. She hadn’t left the house without a security detail in nearly a year. Even when they drove to the doctor’s, it was in an armored SUV with at least four big scary looking men. And even that hadn’t been enough to protect her when the fan came after her. “What if someone recognizes me? What if–”

  Cheyenne cut her off. “First, the crazed fan who nearly shot you is behind bars, and you’ve received no new threats.” Cheyenne speared her with a look. “Have you?”

  Kate shook her head. Shutting her eyes at the memory of that horrible evening.

  “Second, there is nothing better than hiding in plain sight. The paparazzi will still think you’re here.”

  The idea took root inside her, sparking something to life that Kate hadn’t felt since the first time she’d stepped foot on the Grand Ole Opry stage as a shy fourteen-year-old. She wanted a chance to live a regular life. Have friends who liked her, not her money or her fame. Maybe even go on a date. She wanted to experience the feelings she wrote about in her ballads. To shatter in someone’s arms the way the couples did in the romance novels she voraciously read night after night. “It’s almost too much to hope for,” she murmured.

  “No one will recognize you if we dye your hair brown and you go without all that makeup your mother makes you wear. Hell, I won’t even recognize you.”

  Cheyenne was right. If she changed her look, most people wouldn’t recognize her. The magazines photoshopped her within an inch of her life anyway. She silently thanked her mother. Helene had insisted she always leave the house fully made-up. “That way, you’ll never be like those other celebrities always looking their worst coming out of the grocery store when the cameras are waiting,” she’d said. Ironic that listening to her mother’s advice all those years might actually be the thing that allowed her to start over someplace new.

  “When do we leave?”

  * * *

  Cheyenne whistled low as they approached Prairie’s lone stoplight mid-afternoon the next day. “I’d heard a tornado had ripped through here last spring, but man…”

  Barricades crossed Main Street, and signs of construction were everywhere. Cheyenne pulled the car into a vacant lot with a spray-painted sign indicating parking and cut the engine. “Looks like the diner got hit. I was really looking forward to a chocolate shake too. Wanna have a look around?”

  Kate shrugged and nodded, still unused to the feeling of total freedom. True to Cheyenne’s word, no one recognized her with dark hair and no makeup. So far. But she still braced herself for a squeal of recognition and cameras snapping in her face. Slipping her arms into her newly purchased shearling jacket, she trailed after Cheyenne.

  Partway down Main, a food truck stood with scattered picnic tables and benches spilling into a park. Cheyenne turned to her with a grin. “Jackpot,” she mouthed, tilting her head at the line of cowboys waiting to place an order.

  Kate suppressed a giggle. The view might be fine, but she couldn’t even make small-talk. A stab of envy shot through her as she hung back while Cheyenne fearlessly approached the group and in no time had struck up a conversation. Would she ever feel that comfortable among strangers? Cheyenne waved her over. “These guys say there’s a ranch outside of town looking for help. Willing to pay room and board.”

  She gave a small smile to Cheyenne and ducked her head, nodding.

  “Cat got your tongue?” drawled one of the young men, staring at her curiously.

  Kate froze. Did he recognize her? Why was he staring? She shot a panicked glance to Cheyenne.

  Pity filled her eyes. “As a matter of fact, yes,” Cheyenne answered crisply. “Severe laryngitis.”

  Shame burned in Kate’s chest. How would she manage on her own? She’d relied on Cheyenne for too much for too long.

  The man flashed her a sympathetic look. “Aww, that’s too bad. I hope you’re feeling better soon.”

  Kate acknowledged his kindness with a nod, then studied her toes, cheeks flaming. Maybe she should go wait in the car. Maybe leaving Nashville was the dumbest idea she’d ever had. God help her, maybe her mother was right. Her throat tightened as a sense of despair filled her chest.

  Cheyenne touched her elbow. “C’mon. I got our food to go.”

  Keeping her eyes trained on the ground, Kate slowly followed Cheyenne back to the car. Once they’d settled inside and opened up their containers, she spoke softly. “I don’t think I can do this, Chey.”

  “Of course you can,” she mumbled, mouth full of burger. “You don’t want your momma calling the shots anymore do you?”

  Kate shook her head. “Of course not.”

  “Then it’s time to put on your big-girl panties and cowboy up, girl. We’re gonna go find Resolution Ranch and I’ll help you get hired, and then I’m outta here. I’ve got a gig in Kansas City tonight.”

  Kate’s stomach plummeted. This shit was getting real, fast. She’d never truly been on her own. “But what if I fail?” she whispered, hands suddenly cold as ice.

  “Pbbbbth,” Cheyenne scoffed, sticking out her tongue. “No way. You’re smart. You know horses, and you work hard. Where’s that tattoo you put on yesterday?” Cheyenne reached for her wrist, flipping it up. “Are you or are you not brave?”

  Kate shut her eyes, willing the tears back where they came from. She pulled in a shuddering breath. “I am.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. I am,” she answered with more certainty.

  Cheyenne balled up her trash and tossed it in the back seat, then turned to start the car. “You are.” She pulled out of the space and back onto the road. “And we’re going to get you a job. A new Kate. A new life.” Cheyenne’s mouth pulled up as she glanced over and waggled her eyebrows. “And maybe even a cute cowboy, too.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Cash’s heart rate began to slow as Travis pulled the trailer underneath the new wrought iron arch with the words Resolution Ranch. He’d made it.

  “How do you feel, cowboy?” Travis asked as they came over the rise. A new dusting of snow cast everything in shades of white and pink in the last of the afternoon sun.

  “Relieved. Proud. Glad we’re home.”

  “Think you can consider Resolution Ranch home?”

  Cash nodded. “I want to try.”

  “You did well out there. You learn fast. Most importantly, I think you can be a help to other vets who’ve struggled just like you have.”

  Cash barked out a laugh, running a hand over his beard. “You say that like the struggle is over, man.”

  Travis parked the truck and set the brake, turning to him. “I know it’s not. But you made a few key breakthroughs during the trek. I know as well as you, the real struggle begins now that you’re back. But you’re in control. You write your story from here on out.” Travis grinned at him as he exited the cab. “And you have our sorry asses looking out fo
r you. You’re family.”

  Warmth spread across Cash’s chest. He owed his mom a call, now that he could honestly say he was pulling his life back together. She’d been a saint, and he knew she worried. Hell, he worried. At the top of his list was spending the night truly alone. The thought of eight long hours of isolation where his brain could go haywire, pulled his gut tight. He followed Travis around to the back of the horse trailer. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything.”

  Heat raced up the back of his neck and he toed a rock in the gravel, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. “I… I’m not sure I’ll sleep well by myself. Can you leave the door unlocked… just in case?”

  He hated asking. Hated that he couldn’t predict whether or not he’d get the shakes. He should be stronger than that. He was a fucking SEAL for chrissakes. But asking for help was the first step to conquering. No SEAL ever went it alone. Travis had reminded him of that over and over during the trek. He wasn’t alone, and he could conquer this. Find a new normal.

  “You’re home!” Travis’s wife, Elaine called from the porch, rushing across the yard to where they’d parked.

  Travis gave him a thumbs up. “Couch is yours whenever you need it.” He turned and caught his wife into a hug, spinning her around and kissing her soundly. “God, I missed you, beautiful.”

  “Not half as much as I missed you.” She beamed up at Travis. “Dax too, he’s been crawling the walls today, waiting for you. I finally sent him out to help Kate.” She glanced his direction. “Welcome back Cash. You look like the trek agreed with you.”