Silver White Winters

by Candice Sue Patterson

Carissa’s smile fell. “I know.” She stepped away and smacked into a man wearing black leather from head to toe. His yellow beard parted to reveal graying teeth. Her smile wobbled. “Sorry, sir.” She waved to Lane, failing to hide the hurt on her face. “Have a good time.”

  “You, too,” he said, but she’d already disappeared into the crowd.

  Squeezing his way to the front, he spotted Rae’s parents with Jarvis and Belinda Cline—the purpose behind this benefit concert. Lane hiked a leg to step over the barricade blocking off the reserved section. The ground tipped. He put his leg back down. He didn’t need to collapse in front of an audience. He clenched his teeth. It didn’t matter how often it happened, he’d never get used to the dizzy spells, the weakness.

  Just then, the edge of the makeshift curtain surrounding the stage pulled back. Rae stuck her head and arm out and waved him backstage.

  The room had to be two-hundred degrees. Lane shed his coat.

  Bobby Joe held out his hand. “Give us your coat, son. We’ll save your seat.”

  “Thanks.” Lane handed it over.

  The small area backstage was as crowded and chaotic as the auditorium. Rae joined him, stealing his breath in a lacey white dress with a studded belt around her tiny waist. Her hips swayed the bottom half, surging the layers that barely covered her knees. Her skin glowed, even under the bad florescent lighting.

  “You came.” She smiled, her beautiful brown eyes teasing. With her boots on, the top of her head reached his chin.

  “You owe me a song.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “And I plan to pay up.”

  That wicked grin did crazy things to his insides. Lane pulled her closer. The neckline of her dress hit just below her collarbone and stretched to the very edge of her shoulders. Her long sleeves fanned out at her wrists. All that big hair and stage makeup, he suddenly felt like a pubescent teenager in a movie theater, gawking at the leading lady on screen. The sobering reality hit him square in the face. He wouldn’t be content as an extra any longer.

  “What’s wrong?” Rae frowned, toying with the hair at the back of his neck.

  That, too, did funny things to him. “You’re too stunning for words.”

  That brought her gorgeous smile into play, the kind so wide it made her eyes squint.

  A guy in a gray suit with matching hair and a pink tie cleared his throat beside them. “Raelynn, you’re on in five. You need to warm up.”

  Rae concentrated on Lane’s mouth. “I’m warm,” she whispered. Winked. “What do you say we sneak out the back door?”

  “Nothin’ would please me more, honey, but that room of sardines out there came to hear Raelynn Rivers sing.”

  She twisted her lips in disappointment and dropped her arms with a dramatic sigh. “OK.” She licked her lips. “I’m nervous.”

  Lane chuckled. “You’re used to singing to thousands of people. How can you be nervous?”

  “You’re here.”

  A snort from the guy with the girlie tie.

  Rae sighed. “Lane, this is my manager, Jay.”

  Jay scowled at Lane’s outstretched hand before shaking it.

  “I’ll see you after the show.” Rae walked to a stand of equipment and speakers.

  Jay shot him an I’m-watching-you look before stalking away.

  ~*~

  “What’d you bring all of this equipment for?” Raelynn waved her hand at the miniature recording studio.

  “Your producer’s breathing fire down my back for a Raelynn Rivers hit. This is the first song you’ve written in, what—five, six years? I’m not missing this opportunity. If it’s anything like the other songs you’ve written, it’ll turn to gold overnight. Tonight, we’ll record a demo and see what your producer thinks.”

  Raelynn lifted her guitar from the stand and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

  “Good girl.” Jay ran his finger along her jaw.

  She jerked away.

  The emcee, Mrs. Ely, Raelynn’s sixth grade teacher, announced the start of the show, saving Raelynn from putting Jay in his place—for now.

  Mrs. Ely popped her head between the dusty, red velvet panels. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” Raelynn’s stomach knotted, her heart raced.

  The curtains parted and thunderous applause shook the building. Whistles pierced the air.

  This time, it was all for her. Suddenly, the nerves drained from her body.

  She curtsied and stepped up to the mic. She scanned the crowd, then let her gaze rest on Lane. He sat in the first row with her parents, smiling at her, pride radiating off his handsome face. Her heart smoldered with love for that man, for a future of passionate kisses, babies, false teeth, and hearing aids. The thought made her laugh, and Lane narrowed his eyes as if suspecting she was being naughty. She winked at him, strummed a chord on the guitar, and focused on her audience as she started the first song.

  ~*~

  Lane had never seen a more beautiful woman.

  Rae’s sweet twang coated the crowd like honey. She worked the stage like a true professional, despite the bad acoustics. Her energy was infectious. Rae belonged in the spotlight.

  The song ended, and she reached for her bottle of water, tipping it to her lips for a long drink. She set it on the floor and reached for a stool, scooting behind the mic. “Thank ya’ll for coming out and supporting Jarvis and Belinda. I’m honored to be a part of it. I’d like to sing a new song for you now. It’s called ‘More this Christmas.’ No one’s heard it yet, not even my manager, so hopefully, I’ll leave outta here without any tomato stains on my dress.”

  As the audience laughed, her fingers glided over the strings. She closed her eyes. Her angelic voice melted the rest of the world away.

  Heart in his throat, Lane watched her become one with the song, feeling every note from the depth of her soul.

  Life had grown cold…

  dreams had been sold…

  Like snowflakes we drifted apart.

  But so much has changed,

  and I’m not the same.

  Your love has melted my heart.

  There she was, the old Rae. His Rae. Her red-carpet façade was gone, replaced by a genuine vulnerability.

  The chill in the air…

  the snow on the ground…

  the season to care…

  and peace to be found.

  Rae opened her eyes and leveled him with a look so full of desire, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

  I never saw it before.

  You’re here now, there’s more.

  Only two times in his life had Lane allowed tears to reach his eyes—his dad’s funeral, then his mom’s. Love for Rae hit him so strong it made him woozy, and his eyes misted. She’d written that song for him.

  ~*~

  Jay strangled Raelynn in a hug as soon as the curtains fell. “That was amazing.” He laughed, rocking her back and forth. “This one’s going all the way. I can feel it.”

  “Glad you liked it.” Raelynn squirmed from his embrace. She’d poured her heart out on that stage and she was exhausted.

  The Mountain Minions, a group of men in overalls who were at least a hundred years old, were closing the show. From the wings, she clapped along to the beat of a washboard, jug, spoons, and the meanest banjo pickin’ she’d ever heard.

  Jay blocked her view, putting his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll fly out first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll drop this off at the producer’s as soon as we get back. Once they give the OK—and they will—we’ll hit the studio. I’ll get with Ronnie and set up PA.”

  This was great—a plan, direction for her career. She was writing again. Jay’s voice faded in her ears. This is what she wanted. Right?

  The Minions took a bow. A weight as heavy as the ancient curtains falling together settled over her. Could she have it all? A singing career, a husband, children? A dog? Or would she have to choose? Lane said before that if s
he’d have asked him to go with her the first time, he’d have refused. Had his feelings changed?

  Lane stepped backstage, his plaid shirt untucked, buttons undone at the top, exposing the neck of his white T-shirt. She’d think about her troubles tomorrow. She moved around Jay, jogged toward Lane’s outstretched arms, and launched herself into them.

  Lane stumbled backwards. His back hit the brick wall, and his grip on her waist loosened.

  She slid down him until her feet touched the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said, giggling like a six-year-old. “I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

  Lane pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger and closed his eyes. “You just…caught me off guard, that’s all.” He spoke in hard, shallow breaths.

  She touched his pale cheek. “You OK?”

  “Yeah.” Lane lowered his hand and grinned, nabbing her waist. “I’m smothering from the heat.”

  She tugged at a button on his shirt. “Why, Mr. Ryan, I do believe that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received.”

  “I was talking about the building.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She’d closed in for a kiss, but something tugged on her dress. Raelynn looked down to find two tow-headed boys holding napkins and pens. “Can we have your autograph, Miss Rivers?” the taller of the two asked.

  Lane released her.

  She knelt down in front of the boys, guessing them to be around nine. “You sure can, handsome. What’s your name?”

  “Davey.”

  “Well, Davey, you just made my day.” It’d been so long since a genuine fan had asked for her signature. She gladly obliged both boys and stood to pack up her gear, but more fans filed backstage.

  Jay clapped his hands. “OK, people, let’s form a line on the other side of the curtain…”

  A camera flashed in her face, blinding her momentarily. “Ms. Rivers, I’m with the Daily World. Could I have a moment of your time?”

  Maybe, if she could see who was speaking. She blinked away the stars.

  “I’ll wait in the truck.” Lane’s deep voice rumbled in her ear, sending a shiver down her back.

  “Don’t go. I won’t be long.”

  He rubbed her upper arms. “It’s OK. Take your time.” He kissed the top of her head.

  An hour later, she yawned as she shook the reporter’s hand. He looked young enough to still be in high school. “I apologize. It’s been a long night.”

  “I understand,” he said. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Thanks again for agreeing to this interview. It’s sure to get me some attention at the office.”

  “Happy to help.”

  The area backstage was clear except for a few metal folding chairs leaning against the wall, her guitar case, and Jay.

  Raelynn’s toes were screaming to get out of her boots, and she wanted nothing more than to relax in the warmth of Lane’s arms. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

  Jay sidled up to her. “I always wait for you after a show.”

  She picked up her guitar case.

  He peeled the handle from her grip and slipped his arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward the exit. “Let’s go somewhere for coffee, and we’ll go over your schedule for December.”

  “I can’t. I’ve already made plans.”

  “Change your plans. We have business to discuss.”

  Raelynn wasn’t in the mood to be subservient. “Business can wait.”

  Jay stopped and dropped his arm. “We’ve got six months to extend your contract or find a new one. That’s not much time.”

  “One night won’t make a difference.”

  He sighed. “Fine. Don’t stay out too late. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Dad, but I no longer have a curfew.”

  Jay pressed his lips together, turning them white. “You’ve got enough baggage in your life right now and a platinum hit in your future.” He tapped the CD case with his fingers and raised his voice. “Don’t waste your time on Daniel Boone. He’s not worth it.”

  Raelynn’s chin dropped.

  Jay had never spoken to her like that before. Jealousy played over his face as fiercely as Charlie Daniels played the fiddle.

  She poked a finger at his chest. “I’ll go back when I’m good and ready.”

  She spun, but he caught her wrist. “You have an amazing gift, Raelynn. You can write a song unlike any artist I know. It’s back now. Don’t throw it away for some guy. You’ve been down that road before.”

  But this was the yellow brick road. “This time it’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Because I love him. He’s my inspiration.” The thought of leaving Lane again, of having to live without him if he wouldn’t go with her, made her insides fold. But if she was offered another contract, climbed her way back up the charts, could she really walk away? Tension in her shoulders twisted. “I need more time.”

  Jay kneaded his forehead. “I’m turning this in tomorrow. Once it’s in their hands, I can’t promise how much time you’ll have. You’ve got a contract to fulfill. When they say jump…”

  “I know. I know.” She took her guitar. “Thanks, Jay. Just do what you can.” Raelynn pulled him into a one-armed hug. “You’ve been a good guide. A friend.” She leaned away. “Can I give you advice for a change?”

  “Sure.”

  “You threw away a good woman when you left Kate. I never said as much because I was in the middle of rehab and thinking only of myself. But I’m learning that money doesn’t buy happiness, Jay. It can’t buy you love.”

  Jay gave a wry smile. “Maybe you should write a song about it.”

  “A sixties British boy band already beat me to it.” Raelynn patted his elbow. “Travel safe, and, please, give me as much time as you can. I need this.”

  “Time isn’t a luxury you have, but I’ll do my best.” Jay tapped her shoulder with the CD case. “You have some decisions to make.”

  12

  Bridie’s Thanksgiving feast sat like a boulder in Lane’s gut. He needed to tell Rae. Now.

  Her petite body was tucked against the corner of her parents’ couch, legs curled to her chest, eyes closed in sleep. So different from the Rae who’d performed last Saturday, yet equally desirable. He loved her with a fierceness he sometimes couldn’t handle.

  But he was living an illusion. She didn’t know the truth. If she wanted a future with him, she’d be nursing an invalid. That he may or may not be able to give her children. He should’ve confessed long before now. Before she’d written him a song, and performed it for the whole county. Until he told her, none of this was real.

  Lane inched off the couch, packing ten pounds of turkey weight around his middle, and ambushed the fridge for another piece of custard pie. Everyone except him was napping, including Bridie, who’d cornered him in this very spot earlier.

  “I haven’t seen Raelynn this happy in years.” Bridie had inched closer and lowered her voice. “Despite her hard exterior, she’s fragile inside.”

  Like he didn’t know that already.

  “Don’t let her push you away this time,” she’d said. “Fight for her the way you fight for that mountain.”

  His sister was the only person who knew his body had turned against him, stealing every dream he had. And Rae had no clue what she’d gotten herself into when she’d stepped back into his life. She was healing but still wasn’t whole. That joy, the spitfire that made Rae who she was, had returned, and he was afraid the news would cause a relapse he didn’t want to be responsible for.

  He forked a bite of pie into his mouth and made a face. His deception curdled the dessert on his tongue. He hadn’t meant to deceive Rae, but that’s exactly what he’d done.

  Lane dumped the remainder of his pie into the trash and rinsed off his plate. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. She had a larger-than-life career waiting for her. She’d leave soon. He wanted to enjoy every minute with her he could while it lasted.

  He stood behind
the couch and watched Rae sleep. They could have a life together. Adjustments would have to be made, sure, but he was determined not to let the disease rob him. Memories of his mama lying in a hospital bed, gasping for air stole the thought. The MS itself might not get him, but it’d make him more susceptible to something that could. He didn’t want to put Rae through that.

  Besides, she wasn’t just Rae anymore. She was Raelynn Rivers, country music record-breaker with a platinum debut album and a mansion in Tennessee. Her life might’ve veered off course the past few years, but last Saturday’s performance left no doubt in his mind she’d go places again. Did he really want his condition publicized? After several minutes of wrestling with his conscience, Lane grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

  ~*~

  December first, Raelynn showed up at Lane’s door and coerced him to go with her to Charleston. She wanted to buy what she needed to turn his house into a Christmas wonderland.

  A tree, ornaments, lights, that cheesy spray for the windows that made a huge mess and was impossible to remove—the whole shebang. This Christmas would triumph all others.

  Lane curled his upper lip at the heaping cart. “If you put anything else in there, we won’t have a way to get it home. The backseat’s already full, and I doubt all this is gonna fit in your compact trunk.”

  “We should’ve brought your truck.” Raelynn tossed another package of exterior lights into the cart and shrugged. “Oh, well. If I need more room, I’ll just strap you to the trunk and use the passenger seat.”

  He grunted and pushed the cart ahead. “You’re too sweet.”

  She cuddled his arm. “You’ve only seen the half of it, Mr. Ryan.”

  After meeting her niece and nephew for the first time yesterday, gazing into their round, angelic faces and snuggling their tiny, delicate bodies, something cracked inside her chest like an egg, and she wanted nothing more than to become Mrs. Lane Ryan. For their love to create something so beautiful and perfect.

  They turned down the aisle, and their shopping cart collided with another.