Run rose run, p.6
Run, Rose, Run, page 6
And yet that voice of hers wasn’t sad. It was strong, and it was wise.
In any other instance, Ruthanna would’ve expected Ethan to nudge her in the ribs and whisper I told you so. But she didn’t have to look at him again to know that he was entranced. The whole room was under AnnieLee’s spell.
When she started a new song with a quicker tempo, her voice became a roar rather than a trill. Ruthanna tapped her bare foot on the sticky bar floor. Ethan was right. She did sing like an angel—and like a devil, too. Underneath that sweet, doll-faced exterior, there was something fierce and furious about AnnieLee Keyes. Some dark pain powered those pipes; Ruthanna was sure of it.
It wasn’t just the girl’s voice, either; it was the stories her songs told. Words and melody alike pulled the listener in, so that everyone in the room, no matter who they were, felt exactly what AnnieLee Keyes was feeling.
Ruthanna took a deep breath and beckoned to Billy for another martini. She’d seen more than a lifetime’s worth of brilliant, accomplished professional musicians, but this girl was a natural.
It took one to know one.
Chapter
16
When AnnieLee finished her set and went to the bar for her celebratory club soda, Billy waved her off. “Not here,” he said, and his voice sounded almost strangled.
Her stomach lurched—had she done something wrong?
Well, you insulted the guitar he was nice enough to let you use, for one thing, she thought.
Then a thousand other possible slights began tumbling through her mind. Maybe she hadn’t thanked him enthusiastically enough from the stage for letting her sing, or she’d failed to say how honored she was to share the stage with all the other songwriters. And had her pitch been off in that last number? That high E string kept going flat, and she had flubbed the bridge a little…
She felt herself shrinking down into something small and uncertain. “What’d I do?”
“You can have your drink at the back table,” he said. “Somebody wants to meet you.”
AnnieLee straightened up instantly. “Oh!” she said. “They do, do they? Well, for your information, I’m not going to just go sit down with some random stranger just ’cause he wants me to. Shoot, Billy, I thought I was in trouble.”
“It’s not ‘some random stranger,’” said Billy. “It’s Ruthanna Ryder.”
AnnieLee blinked at him. Surely she hadn’t heard him right. There was truly no way—it was like saying Patsy Cline had floated down from heaven on a pair of gilded wings so she could buy AnnieLee a drink. “Come on,” she said. “Can I have my club soda, please? My throat hurts. I don’t even need the lime slice if it’s too much trouble.”
Billy’s eyes flicked toward the back of the bar. “Ruthanna Ryder,” he said again, still sounding a little choked. “She’s here, AnnieLee, and she wants to meet you.”
AnnieLee still scoffed at him. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to lie?”
But then Billy walked out from behind the bar, and he came right over and put his big, calloused hand on AnnieLee’s elbow. “The Cat’s Paw is her place,” he said. “Now why don’t you put your pretty smile on and come meet her?”
“Oh, my God,” AnnieLee said as he gave her arm a little tug. “You’re not kidding.”
She slipped off her stool, and Billy began to steer her through the crowd. “She’s a hell of a lot ornerier than your average fairy godmother, but that woman can work all kinds of miracles.”
AnnieLee still couldn’t believe what he was telling her. “Is this really happening? What am I going to say? Am I really about to meet the queen of country music?”
“Now, honey, that’s what they call Loretta Lynn. But get all that gee-whiz crap out of you now,” Billy said through clenched teeth. “Ruthanna doesn’t suffer fools.”
Billy gave her a gentle shove and then they broke through a knot of people to find themselves standing in front of a small battered table, in the very back corner of the bar, where the biggest star in Nashville was sitting, clicking her nails on the rim of a martini glass.
Perfumed and painted, with smoky eyes and candy-red lips and her spectacular hair coiffed in studiously messy curls, Ruthanna Ryder was so dazzling that AnnieLee gasped.
As Ruthanna extended a slender arm, gesturing for AnnieLee to sit, her beaded dress reflected the colored lights dripping down from the ceiling. “Damned if I don’t look like a disco ball in here,” she said, almost to herself. Then she looked up at AnnieLee. “Have a seat.”
Tongue-tied, AnnieLee did as she was told. Only then did she notice Ethan Blake sitting in the shadows to Ruthanna’s left. Wait, she thought, they know each other?
“Ruthanna,” Ethan said to the glittering queen beside him, “I’d like you to meet AnnieLee Keyes. AnnieLee, this is Ruthanna Ryder.”
At first AnnieLee could only nod, but a moment later, a torrent of words came rushing out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I pinched myself already, but I still think I might be dreaming. It is such an honor to meet you, Ms. Ryder. I’ve looked up to you since I was old enough to know anything.” She felt her cheeks growing hot, but she kept on going. “We had a poster of you in the kitchen, right next to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and I thought you were one of the saints! I figured you had to be, to sing like that. I even prayed to you. I was about seven years old when my mom finally had to tell me that while your talents were divine, you weren’t actually holy.”
Ruthanna laughed. “I am far from holy, AnnieLee.” Her speaking voice was rich, and lower than AnnieLee had thought it would be.
“See?” Ethan said, nudging Ruthanna’s sparkling arm. “I’m not the only one who prays to you.”
“What’d you pray for back then, AnnieLee?” Ruthanna asked.
“To sing,” AnnieLee said without hesitation. There had been other prayers, too, more desperate ones, but she didn’t need to bring them up now.
Ruthanna folded her beautifully manicured hands on the table. Her expression was serious. “You’re a very talented girl,” she said. “I’ve been in this business for over forty years, and I’ve seen more singers than I’ve seen Sundays. But honestly, you stand out, AnnieLee Keyes. You’ve really got something special.”
AnnieLee’s heart swelled with relief and gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That means the world to me.”
“I don’t do this very often,” Ruthanna said, “but I’m going to help you out.”
By now AnnieLee was nearly trembling with anticipation. Forget joking about a fairy godmother: one of the greatest musicians in the whole world was going to take her under her wing! This was an honest-to-God miracle. AnnieLee almost laughed out loud to think how her childhood prayers had paid off, even though they’d been sent in the wrong direction.
She could already imagine the story she’d tell about this night. I was only in Nashville about two weeks before I met Ruthanna Ryder, and she’s the reason I’m playing here at the Ryman Auditorium today.
AnnieLee’s life had been so hard. Was it crazy to think that this one thing might be easy? She could feel the huge, wild smile spreading across her face.
But Ruthanna didn’t smile back. She pointed one perfect, blood-red nail at AnnieLee’s heart. “Here’s my advice for you, AnnieLee Keyes,” she said. “Get the hell out of Nashville while you still can.”
AnnieLee swallowed. “Pardon me?” she gasped.
“It’s a hard, rough business,” said Ruthanna. “A tiny thing like you? You’ll get chewed up and spit out like a hunk of gristle. Sure, you might taste success, but you’re more likely to end up broke and alone. Do something sensible with your life, AnnieLee. Get a job. Find a man and marry him.” She looked over at Ethan Blake. “Take this guy, for example. He’d make someone a real nice husband.”
Elation turned to dismay, just like that. AnnieLee had to remind herself to breathe. Next, though, she had to remind herself who she was.
Can I fix it?
No I cain’t
But I sure ain’t gonna take it lyin’ down
Steeling herself, she spoke slowly and calmly to her idol. “I admire you more than anyone else on this whole green earth,” AnnieLee said, “but with all due respect, Ms. Ryder, you can go screw yourself.”
Chapter
17
Too agitated to stand still but too infuriated to leave, AnnieLee was pacing back and forth in the alley behind the Cat’s Paw when the door swung open to reveal Ethan and Ruthanna, backlit by the bar’s colored lights.
AnnieLee pulled up short and put her hands on her hips. “Are you here to give me more advice I won’t take?”
Ruthanna threw her head back and laughed. “You were right about her, Blake—she’s a little firecracker!”
This made AnnieLee even madder. She hated being called small, no matter that it was accurate. “You ain’t so big yourself, you know,” she said. “I bet I could take you in a fight.”
Ruthanna, falling into paroxysms of laughter, held on to Ethan’s shoulder for balance, while he looked back and forth between the two of them as if he didn’t have the faintest idea what to do or say.
Pretty soon the confounded expression on his face made AnnieLee start laughing, too. How ridiculous was this? She’d thrown a hissy fit in an alleyway and then challenged a country music goddess to a street fight. What on earth was she thinking?
“Oh, sugar, that would be the funniest thing,” Ruthanna gasped. “Us going at each other like cats. You’d pop all the beads off my fancy dress!”
Ethan, however, had decided that he was not nearly so amused. His eyes met AnnieLee’s. Are you crazy? Apologize, he mouthed.
AnnieLee ignored him. She couldn’t apologize because she wasn’t sorry. When a girl didn’t have anyone to stand up for her, that girl had to stand up for her own damn self. She didn’t expect that hunky Ruthanna groupie to understand.
“Your shoes look like they could kill a person, Ruthanna,” AnnieLee said, giggling.
Ruthanna kicked out a leg to show off a pointy-toed stiletto. “They’re killing me,” she said. Then she brushed a red-gold curl away from her cheek and said, “I like you. And that’s not something I say very often.”
“No, it is not,” Ethan muttered.
“I know you’re new in town,” Ruthanna went on. “Where are you staying, AnnieLee Keyes?”
AnnieLee looked down at her hands. She didn’t want to lie. “Well, around,” she said.
“Around,” Ruthanna repeated.
Ethan’s brows knitted together. “That sounds kinda questionable,” he said.
AnnieLee thought of her dirt bed and her cop alarm clock. “It is.”
Ruthanna and Ethan shared a meaningful glance before Ruthanna turned back to AnnieLee with an almost maternal smile. “You’re welcome to stay with me for a little while,” she said.
AnnieLee didn’t say anything right away because she was too shocked. How in the span of a few minutes had she gone from threatening Ruthanna to being invited to her house? When she looked over at Ethan, she was surprised to see him nodding, as if he thought this all made perfect sense.
“I stayed there once,” he said. “Woke up feeling like the king of England.”
Ruthanna stepped into the alley. “Come on,” she said to AnnieLee, her voice gentle now. “Don’t be too proud. The car’s waiting.”
AnnieLee hesitated for only a moment. The prospect of an actual bed to sleep in was just impossible to resist. And so with one last wide-eyed look at Ethan, she followed Ruthanna along the cobblestones and into an idling white limo.
Chapter
18
AnnieLee sat tensely on the soft leather seat as the car glided along the dark streets. Ruthanna, who was gazing out the window with a thoughtful expression on her face, didn’t seem to be in the mood to make conversation.
It still made AnnieLee nervous to look at her, and so she stared at the back of the driver’s big bald head. Every once in a while, she caught his eyes in the mirror. But his expression was unreadable.
After half an hour, they turned into a driveway almost hidden beneath towering trees. An enormous pair of wrought-iron gates swung open, and replicas of old gaslights flickered on as they passed. The driver proceeded a full quarter mile before coming to a stop under a porte cochere to the right side of the house.
Although house was hardly the right word for it.
Would you call it a manor? A country estate? AnnieLee wondered. Neither did the place justice. Hell, it looked big enough to be the state capitol building.
“You live here?” she asked incredulously—and by mistake. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t act like a poor dope who’d hardly ever seen a two-story house or had a meal fancier than the all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast at Denny’s. What had that guy Shakespeare said? The truth will out.
Ruthanna laughed. “It’s a bit much, I know. I was younger and dumber when I bought it, and I got upsold. Here, we’ll go in the side.”
Feeling more self-conscious than ever about her faded jeans and old Gap T-shirt, AnnieLee followed her into a warm yellow kitchen, where Ruthanna kicked off her shoes and immediately shrank at least four inches. AnnieLee bent down to tug off her beat-up Ropers. Her big toes stuck out of the holes in her socks.
“Now it’s time to get out of this preposterous dress,” Ruthanna said. “And I bet you’d like to take a shower.”
AnnieLee nodded mutely, suddenly worried that she smelled like sweat and dive bars. But she refrained from sniffing her pits as they walked up a wide, curving staircase and then down a long hall lit by a series of glittering chandeliers.
“Voilà!” Ruthanna said, pushing open one of the many heavy wooden doors. “The Lilac Room.”
At Ruthanna’s urging, AnnieLee stepped into the largest bedroom she’d ever seen. Besides the king-sized four-poster bed with its matching mahogany end tables, there was a sitting area, with a silk brocade couch and two matching armchairs, and a work area, with a beautiful old-fashioned rolltop desk. The walls were painted a soothing shade of the palest purple.
“The en suite’s through that door,” Ruthanna said.
The what? AnnieLee thought.
Ruthanna gave AnnieLee’s shoulder a pat. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“I really don’t know how to thank you—” AnnieLee began.
Ruthanna cut her off. “Hush,” she said. “It’s nothing.”
The en suite turned out to be a bathroom with a heated marble floor and a soaking tub so big AnnieLee could’ve swum laps in it. She turned on the shower and peeled off her dusty, sweat-stained clothes. When the water was as hot as it could go, she stepped into the stall and stood beneath the downpour until her skin turned bright pink and billows of steam filled the room. It was the most wonderful thing she’d felt in…well, she didn’t really want to count the days. The number was just too high.
Half an hour later, smelling like jasmine and orange blossoms, AnnieLee tiptoed downstairs in an oversized fluffy white bathrobe and found Ruthanna at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of tea.
“You look like you feel better,” Ruthanna said. “You also sort of look like a polar bear in that thing.”
AnnieLee smiled shyly and sat down across from her. “I’m clean, but my clothes are pretty dirty.”
Ruthanna just gazed at her for a moment, and AnnieLee wondered if she’d somehow said the wrong thing, even though it was the obvious truth.
Then Ruthanna got up and walked over to the counter, where she squeezed a thin stream of golden honey into her tea. “I think I might have some things that would fit you,” she said.
When she looked up again, her eyes were steady on AnnieLee’s. “Where are you from, AnnieLee? Where’s home?”
AnnieLee had been dreading this question, since it wasn’t one she could answer the way she wanted to. True honesty just wasn’t possible. She pulled the collar of her robe tighter around her neck. “It’s complicated,” she said.
“Life’s complicated,” Ruthanna said, coming back to the table. “And seeing as how I let you into my home, I don’t think it’s too much for you to answer a question. Do you?”
AnnieLee twisted a napkin in her lap.
“Well, then?” Ruthanna was persistent.
“I don’t really have family,” AnnieLee said.
“We all come from somewhere,” Ruthanna said gently.
Nervously, AnnieLee straightened the napkin back out. When she spoke, she kept her lips so close together that her words were barely audible. “My parents were survivalists in the backwoods of Tennessee.”
There. She’d done it.
God, forgive me, she thought. I never knew lying could be so easy.
“It doesn’t sound like you were too fond of them,” Ruthanna said. “Well, parents can be tough. My own mother was—if you’ll excuse the phrase—an incorrigible, dyed-in-the-wool, redheaded bitch on wheels.”
“My mom died when I was ten,” AnnieLee said. That much was true.
“I’m so sorry,” Ruthanna said. “What happened?”
But AnnieLee just looked down at her lap. She wasn’t ready to talk about her mother’s slow and grisly death from cancer—not tonight, and maybe not ever.
“All right,” Ruthanna said. “I won’t press you further. You go on to bed. I have to finish drinking this tea. It’s nettle. Maya, my assistant, says it’s good for me.”
“I really appreciate you letting me—” AnnieLee began.
Ruthanna held up a hand. “Say nothing more,” she said. “I’ve got more space than I know what to do with. It’s nice to have another body around.” She took a sip of her tea and made a sour face. “Needs more honey. I swear it tastes like boiled weeds. Anyway, when you go upstairs, open the last door on your left, and you’ll see a bedroom that’s all white.” She stopped abruptly, and she closed her beautiful green eyes. But after another second, she opened them. She gave herself a little shake, as if she were shrugging something off. “In the closet are all kinds of clothes that will fit you. You can take whatever you need.”
