Country Heaven

by Miles, Ava

  His mouth tipped up to the side. “Okay, then I’ll see you soon.”

  When he left, she succumbed to the storm inside her. The pain was fierce, the tears hot. Her head and nose grew stuffy, and she had trouble catching her breath when she curled onto her cot.

  Did he really love her? Why would he wait to tell her until now? It was insane. And then another thought surfaced, something she hadn’t remembered until now. He was terrified of flying, and yet he’d faced that fear for her.

  She reached for the package, and the first thing she pulled out was a CD. On the cover, Rye sat hatless under a tree with two kids playing in the background near a tree swing. Her heart stopped, and she knew the kids were Rory and Annabelle, dressed in matching outfits of crisp white and powder blue. Above his name was the album’s title, Country Heaven. Since Myra had been a long time fan of Rye’s, Tory had seen plenty of his other album covers. They all showcased his spectacular body in motion, solidifying his reputation as a bad–boy country singer.

  But not this time…

  Then she pulled a blue card with a garden scene on the front with the words, Thinking of You. It looked like something Tammy might have bought. Inside were two pieces of construction paper with a child’s big, awkward red letters.

  Dear Tory,

  I miss you. I hope you’re having fun. Listen to Uncle Rye and his songs. He loves you like me. I didn’t talk to him until he said it. Come home soon and see my puppy, Bandit. He bought him for me.

  Love, Rory

  So her little champion thought Rye loved her? He was no pushover. Tears leaked out of her swollen eyes, and she knuckled them away.

  Her gaze fell to the CD again. This was the man she’d met in Meade.

  She tore off the cellophane and popped the disc into the mini–player that was in the bottom of the envelope. Her heart pumping in vicious beats, she hit play.

  The first track shared the name of the album, and when she heard the opening chords of a guitar and his quiet voice, she shivered, realizing it was the song he’d sung for her in Memphis. Bracing herself to hear the words that had broken her heart, she was shocked when the lyrics were different.

  But I missed her so,

  Couldn’t let her go.

  So, I got on my knees,

  Started a prayer with please,

  And asked God to send my angel back to me.

  Told Him I’d make her a home,

  And love her all my days,

  Down here,

  In country heaven.

  She pressed a hand over her mouth as she started to cry again. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chanted, rocking herself. So it was true. He loved her. He really did.

  Pulling the lyrics sheet from the cover, she scanned the Acknowledgements, where he thanked his Daddy, Amelia Ann, Tammy, Rory, and Annabelle for coming back into his life. And the last line on the page was To T.S., with love. Always.

  For a moment, it felt like lightning had struck her heart.

  She read the lyrics for the rest of the songs as if her life depended on it. They were all about his broken heart, sitting a spell with his favorite little girl in the evening, and the power of forgiveness. Her finger caressed the album cover as she listened. She noticed his cowboy hat resting to the side in the picture. Rye Crenshaw without his hat? Surely it meant something. He was telling her—telling the world—that he was setting aside his old image, wasn’t he?

  And she’d sent him away.

  What in the heck did she need to think about? Everything was exactly as she’d always hoped it would be.

  Panicked, she picked up her keys and ran to her Rover. Kevin emerged when she started the engine.

  “He loves me!” she shouted. “I’m going after him.”

  “Good luck,” he said with a smile, but his shoulders fell as she drove away.

  She had only been to The Queen’s Lodge once, for a special lunch, and while it was grandiose, she barely paid it any mind as she crossed the lobby to the main desk.

  “Can you tell me what room Rye Crenshaw is staying in?” she asked the receptionist.

  “I’m sorry, miss, but we’re not able to divulge the name of our guests,” he replied.

  “Then can you call him, please, and tell him that…” She broke off when she saw Clayton and another man walking out of a nearby room. She cried out his name, rushing toward them.

  His mouth curled at the corner, while his friend regarded her warily.

  “I’m here to see Rye,” she said in a rush. “Can you take me to him?”

  “Are you planning on breaking his heart anymore than you’ve already done?” Clayton asked.

  “No,” she said quietly. She’d broken his heart?

  “Well, good,” he replied.

  “I’m John Parker McGuiness, by the way, another friend of Rye’s,” said the man next to him. “It’s good to finally meet you, Tory. Why don’t you come with us? We’ll take you to Rye.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Suddenly she was nervous.

  “I’m really glad to see you here,” John Parker said. “Rye’s terrible at waiting.”

  The first makings of a smile formed on her face, and it felt good. “I know.”

  “Seems I owe you an apology,” Clayton said. “Georgia raised me to speak plainly, and it sometimes comes off too gruff. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  Her mouth parted slightly in shock. “Thank you,” she simply responded.

  They followed the path to the pool and then curled around it, heading to the largest bungalow on the property. When they reached the door, J.P. squeezed her arm. “Just wait here for a moment.”

  The wait was interminable, and she tapped her foot, all the things she wanted to say to Rye spinning through her mind in an endless loop.

  When the door opened again, J.P. and Clayton emerged with another very tall man, who looked her up and down and whistled. “Lady, for being so little, you sure know how to cause a whole heap of trouble,” the stranger said. “But I’m glad you’re in love with my friend because I’m a hopeless romantic now that I’ve gotten hitched myself. But go easy with him. He wasn’t sure he’d convinced you about his feelings, so he went a little crazy.”

  “It’ll be fine,” J.P. said. “Just tell Rye how you feel.”

  And with that, they left her alone at the mahogany door. She only needed to open it.

  Every good cook has a signature dish. Even though I’m not of Italian heritage, one of my signature dishes is lasagna. The wonderful thing about cooking is that you can go anywhere in the world simply by cooking in your own kitchen. Since we didn’t have any money to travel to mysterious places when I was a kid, I started cooking recipes from countries I wanted to visit. When I was first introduced to Italian cuisine, I felt that I’d found my second home. Their approach to food—simple, family style with fresh local ingredients—seemed to blend with my own vision of what makes a good meal. Serve it to your family with a good red wine. Light some candles. And celebrate togetherness.

  Tory’s Mouthwatering Lasagna

  2 packages sausage

  1 lb. hamburger

  6 cloves garlic

  2 tbsp. Italian seasoning

  1 can tomato paste

  1 small can crushed tomatoes

  1 carton of cottage cheese or ricotta

  2 beaten eggs

  1 tbsp. Parsley

  ¾ cup Parmesan cheese

  Mozzarella cheese

  Fry the meat and when cooked, add the garlic and Italian seasoning. Then add the tomato paste and crushed tomatoes. In another bowl, mix the eggs, ricotta, parsley, and Parmesan cheese. Boil the lasagna noodles in salt water until al dente. In an oil–coated pan, layer in two stages: noodles, meat mixture, creamy mixture, and then top with mozzarella. Bake at 375 degrees for 50 minutes until golden brown.

  Tory Simmons’ Simmering Family Cookbook

  Chapter 26

  She was reaching for the door when it was wrenched open. Rye stood there on the threshold
, breathing hard. His face seemed to tighten as he looked at her.

  “Do you believe me?” he whispered.

  She had to fight a fresh onslaught of tears. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Thank God,” he cried. “Come inside. We can talk…” The he shook his head. “Screw this.”

  He pulled her to him, his mouth swooping down and finding hers. The kiss was rough and untamed, but she didn’t care. Under the force of his embrace, there was an agony she understood.

  She rubbed her fingers over his face, tracing the angles, as the kiss went deep and wild. He pressed his body into hers, cupped her bottom, and pulled her inside, slamming the door. Her hands ran over his shoulders and then reached under his shirt to caress the strong lines of his back, desperate to feel his naked skin.

  He pulled back and shook his head as if to clear it. “We have some talking to do.”

  Her heart was pounding in her chest, and it was almost impossible to hear past the buzzing in her ears. Her head bobbed a yes, and she let him take her hand and lead her into the main sitting area. Decorated in earth tones, it boasted an incredible view of the savannah.

  When they stopped in the center of the family room, he raised her hand to his lips. The sweetness of the gesture made her eyes burn.

  “I missed you, sweetheart. God, how I missed you. You finally listened to Country Heaven?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Rye, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  His eyes gleamed. “I meant it. Every word. You are an angel, my angel, and I came halfway around the world to tell you that I can’t live without you anymore.”

  This, this was everything she’d hoped for, but never thought possible.

  “I need to hear you say it,” she said, and he gave her that special smile reserved just for her.

  ***

  How long had he waited to tell her? He framed her delicate face in his big hands. “I love you, Tory Simmons. God, how I love you.”

  She bit her lip as tears filled her beautiful green eyes. “I love you too, Rye Crenshaw.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I did to you.” He pulled her close and rocked her, tunneling his hands into her hair.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you, too. I didn’t know I broke your heart,” she said, her tears wetting his face.

  “I broke it by acting like a prize ass. Don’t cry, love. You’re cutting me to pieces.” He kissed her eyelids. “I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry for the rest of my life after everything I’ve done. I wasn’t ready for you, for what was between us. Will you forgive me?”

  “Yes,” she said, putting her hand over his heart. “And you’re not scared anymore?”

  “No, I was just afraid I’d come all this way and fail. And I wasn’t sure how I’d tell Rory…” His voice broke.

  A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

  His whole body seemed to unwind with relief. “Thank God. Hang on a sec. I have something for you.” It was so hard to step away from her, but he left the room and headed into his bedroom.

  When he came back, he stopped in the doorway and watched her for a moment. She wrapped her arms around her body like Annabelle did. She was a study of contrasts—black hair, green eyes, porcelain skin. He wanted to remember this moment forever.

  “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he said in a hoarse voice.

  A blush spread across her cheeks. “Maybe.”

  He sauntered forward. “Well, it bears repeating. You take my breath away and then you give it back.” He lowered to one knee.

  When her face froze, he felt some of the pressure return to his chest. “Will you marry me, Tory?”

  She blinked rapidly, like she had something in her eye. “You’re serious?”

  “Do you think I would have traveled all this way when I’m deathly afraid of flying if I didn’t have marriage in mind?”

  “No.” Her hand clutched her throat. “Was it bad?”

  “Not as bad as fearing I’d lost you,” he said, flicking open the black box he’d concealed in his hand. The square–cut emerald shone like her eyes, and the small diamonds clustered around it were radiant against the white gold setting. “My sisters helped me pick it out. I hope you like it.”

  She sank to both knees and stared at the ring. “Oh, Rye.”

  “I love you. I want to marry you, and for us to be a family.” And for some reason, Rory’s promise popped into his head. “I don’t want you to be alone any more. And I don’t want to be alone any more, either.”

  A tear stole down her ashen face.

  “Are you going to answer? My knees are starting to hurt here.” They weren’t, but he was dying for her to say the words.

  “Yes, Rye, I’ll marry you.”

  He reached for her hand and slid the ring on her finger. Damn, if Tammy hadn’t been spot on about the size. “That’s better. Tammy thought you might like something less traditional, something with color. But if you don’t like it—”

  “She’s right. I love it.” She ran delicate fingers over the setting.

  “I love you,” he said, pulling her close. “No, there’s more to say. We have some things to talk about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, for one thing, you’re currently living in a tent in Africa.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “But I’m coming back next month. I won’t be gone much longer.”

  But any time apart seemed like too much after everything they’d been through, though he didn’t see any way around it, since he couldn’t stay in Kenya for that long. She had her work, and he had his, not to mention his family.

  “Okay, what about when we’re married?” Rye asked.

  In response to her blank stare, he pointed. “Aha! Well, I have two options for you to consider. We can live in your house in Lawrence until you graduate, or you can come live at my house in Dare River, and we’ll travel to Kansas when you need to go up for school. You’re mostly finishing up your dissertation, right? I’ll keep my performances and events to a minimum until you’re done. Of course, Rory and Annabelle are hoping you’ll choose option number two. They miss you. We all do.”

  “You’d move to Lawrence to be with me?” And even he could hear the surprise in her voice.

  “Of course! I want to be with you. I need to be with you.”

  She threw her arms around him and tackled him to the floor. “You really do love me.”

  “Of course I do. Haven’t we established that?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t really get it until just now. I’m a slow learner.”

  “Hell, you’re about as slow as a rocket. Sweetheart, you’re going to be the more educated one in this marriage. Aren’t you lucky that I’m not the type of man who cares?”

  “That’s because under that ‘good ole boy, aw shucks’ routine, you’re actually pretty damn smart.”

  “Picked you, didn’t I?”

  She punched him in the ribs. “Took you long enough. You were beastly.”

  “Yes, I was, and I’m sorrier than you can imagine.” And still was, thinking of how much he’d hurt her and all the time they’d lost.

  “Stop,” she whispered. “You’re forgiven.”

  And he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight.

  “I figured out some things here about my career,” she said, “and you were right.”

  “Music to my ears,” he tried to joke, easing up on his grip. “About what?”

  “That I don’t like anthropology as much as I do cooking. That I was only doing it for Grandma. I miss cooking for people, Rye, especially you. Perhaps I can be your ongoing tour cook, and do some catering in the downtime. I’m open to all sorts of possibilities, so long as I can create incredible meals for people to appreciate.” She leaned back and touched his face. “I still want to finish my degree, though. I want to feel like I honored my promise to her.”

  His hands stroked her face. “I’m glad
for you sweetheart.” She’d changed, too, in their time apart, and finally seemed ready to leave the past behind.

  “Oh Rye, I wish you could have met my family. They would have really liked you.”

  He thought of his own family. Not too long ago, he’d been like her—alone—but by choice. He hated that she didn’t have a choice. But at least he could give her a family, exactly as Rory had promised.

  He put his arms around her again. “I know, sweetheart, but I feel like I know your Grandma every time you cook for me. She lives on through her recipes, Tory. And through your cooking.”

  “I want to publish the cookbook, Rye,” she confessed.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” he said. “I couldn’t eat anything after you left, you know. It was like my taste buds had broken. Just like my heart.”

  She made a moue with her lips. “No wonder you look like you lost weight.”

  “Christ, you make me sound like a girl.” He framed her waist with his hands. “Seems like you did, too.”

  “Haven’t cared too much for food lately either. But I promise to cook for you when I come back to the States. You haven’t had my famous lasagna. It’s the perfect meal to kick off our first family dinner.”

  “Everybody will love that,” he said, and he could already see her cooking in his kitchen, letting Annabelle and Rory help. It would be a dream come true.

  “Tell me everything that’s happened with your family.”

  And while the night broadcast its savannah melody, he held her in his arms and filled her in on the past few months.

  “I’m so glad everything’s worked out for them, Rye,” she whispered when he finally finished. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Her praise meant the world, so he kissed her hair.

  “Rye, I hesitate to bring this up, but did you ever find out who fed the tabloids the information about Tammy’s divorce?” she asked quietly, her eyes darkening.

  How had he ever thought she could hurt his family? God, he’d been such a fool. “No, we’re still looking into it, but we’ll find out. That I promise.” He still had his brother–in–law pegged, but there was no evidence. Rye was a patient man, though, and someway they’d pay back Sterling for what he’d done to Tammy.