Even knowing that, before I wouldn’t have dreamed of letting a day go by without at least checking in. But looking back now, it makes me realize all the more that I never had anything else in my life that was important enough to take me away from it all.
With Holly, I’ve dropped everything—more than once—to chase after her, and I’ll do it again if I have to. My hope is that she’ll never run again, however. Before we leave this town, she will understand that what I told her is true: she is the most important thing in my life. For no one else would I pull my focus this far from the business that I’ve built from nothing. But if I can’t take time to enjoy what matters most to me, how successful am I, really?
I need to tell her about my acquisition of Homegrown, but I’d rather wait for another time. Although if anything will show her just how serious I am about her happiness, that might be it. Now she’ll have the freedom to take the reins of her own career, and not be subject to the whims of the jackass record execs who don’t have her best interests anywhere near the top of their priority lists.
But there’s time to have that discussion later. Right now, I want to learn about the side of Holly I’ve never been privy to before. I want to know everything about her. Not one detail is too small.
“Tell me about what it was like to grow up here.”
I’ve got her tucked against me with her head resting on my chest, and she freezes as soon as I ask my question.
I look down, my chin brushing her forehead. “Holly, I’ve seen the town; it’s not a bad place. There’s no reason to be ashamed.”
Her hand, whether she’s aware of it or not, curls into my side and pulls me closer. She says nothing.
“Holly?”
She mumbles something I can’t make out.
“What was that?”
“You haven’t seen where I really grew up, though.”
“Is it far from here?”
She starts to pull away, but I tighten my grip around her, not willing to let her separate from me.
“No. I want to hold you.”
I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve ever said those words to a woman, but it’s also totally fucking true. I suspect that whatever Holly’s about to say is something I don’t really want to hear, because it’s something that bothers her a lot. And if it bothers her, then it’s going to bother me.
“I told you about my mama. We bounced from trailer to trailer in Rusty Meadows, which is a couple miles from here, across the river. It’s called Happy Meadows, but no one actually calls it that.”
“Was it an okay place?”
She shrugs against me. “The people were generally pretty nice, with the exception of the times the guy she’d shacked us up with would toss us out. Sometimes I’d come home from school and find my clothes in the dirt because Mama did something to piss the guy off. Usually messing around with someone else and getting ready to jump ship. She called it lining up her next opportunity. Everyone else called it being a cheating whore. The thing that sucks worst about living in a small town is that everyone assumed I was just like her.”
I recall an offhand comment she made a couple of weeks ago about some boy offering her money for a blow job.
“But you set them straight.”
“I just became an introvert. I didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t date boys; didn’t talk to boys. I didn’t want to be like my mama. Didn’t even have a boyfriend until I was a senior in high school. But she was gone for years by then. People started to forget about her, at least a little.”
“Where’d she go?”
“She hitched her wagon to a man who could afford to keep her in style. He bought her a Cadillac Eldorado and they took off. I didn’t see her again until Country Dreams happened, and now she just shows up when she needs money, which I don’t really have.”
“Until you married me and I sent her off on a fully paid vacation, and made myself into an easy target.”
Holly sighs. “But you made her go away, and that’s all I wanted.”
I press a kiss to her forehead. “Are you going to take me to Rusty Meadows while we’re here?” I’m not even really sure why I ask the question.
Holly shifts, and I think she’s shaking her head. “No. It’s not something I like to remember. This house,” she jerks her chin toward the ceiling, “is the only home in this town I want to remember.”
“Fair enough. And you were how old when you moved in?”
“Fourteen. Best thing that ever happened to me. Gran was friends with Ben and he gave me a job, which led to me singing karaoke and falling in love with being onstage, and the rest is history and would make a great country song.” She pauses. “Speaking of which, I should totally write that one. I need a few more for the big-box exclusive tracks before I get back to Nashville.”