Allowing her gaze to roam the familiar kitchen with its worn hardwood floors, she noted the disrepair creeping up and taking over. Rusted hinges on the cupboards, chipped countertops...everywhere she looked she found something that needed a little TLC. It was just Cora and Warren in this old ranch house and Cora, bless her heart, was sick and Warren had his hands full trying to care for her and the ranch without any help. Why hadn’t they called her? She would’ve flown in the best of care for Cora if need be. Round-the-clock care, even.
Laci worried her lip, concerned and feeling out of sorts for being unaware that all this had been happening to two of the nicest people she knew and loved. She could blame Trent for keeping her going 24/7, but the fact was, she’d stayed away because of Kane. The Bradford ranch was so much a part of her memories with Kane that for a while it’d been too painful to go there knowing that Kane was gone.
Of course, in hindsight, that’d been just selfish. Warren and Cora were good folk and they’d been there for her when she’d had no one except her daddy, God rest his soul, and she’d repaid that kindness by relegating them to a few hurried phone calls in between shows. Laci rubbed at the sudden tickle in her nose. She ought to have the kitchen remodeled for Cora. But even as the thought took root, she remembered how particular Cora was about her kitchen and realized she couldn’t go and make a big change like that without the old gal’s permission. The shock of it alone might send Cora into a tailspin.
Laci leaned against the counter, her gaze finding Kane through the kitchen-sink window. He crossed the yard to the barn where she could hear the cows making their usual morning racket. A smile found her. She’d forgotten how loud those milkers could be.
The first time she’d stayed here, Cora had filled a mug with fresh milk and given it to her with a mile-high stack of flapjacks for breakfast and Laci had never experienced something so good as Cora’s cooking coupled with milk straight from the cow. However, at first, Laci had been resistant, pushing away the milk with a polite “No, thank you” because she was mildly lactose intolerant, but Cora just laughed and asked her to try it.
“I’m willing to bet your stomach will tolerate fresh milk just fine,” Cora had assured her, but Laci hadn’t been too sure. Her daddy had dropped her off with these old folks and now they were trying to kill her, she’d thought. But her daddy had ingrained in her a respect for her elders so, sending a prayer to heaven, she drank the milk and ate the flapjacks. When her stomach didn’t immediately rebel, she stared at Cora in confusion, prompting Cora to say, “I was raised on a farm with nothing but fresh milk and there weren’t nothing like that ‘lactose intolerant’ stuff going around. You know why? Because we didn’t monkey around with the milk. It came straight to our cups as God intended and you can’t tell me that God don’t know what he’s doin’ when it comes to his animals. That stuff you buy in the supermarkets got goodness-only-knows-what inside it and none of the good stuff that was put there in the first place. That’s why your body don’t mind it.”
And after that, Laci never thought twice about drinking raw milk, until Trent came along and tossed it from her travel fridge, saying milk made phlegm and it was bad for her singing career. She hadn’t had a glass of milk—raw or otherwise—in years. Laci watched Kane until he disappeared into the barn and then went to the fridge. She found a glass container of milk and smiled. “Might as well make sure it doesn’t go to waste,” she murmured, pouring what was left into a mug and drinking it down. A sigh of happy nostalgia followed and she simply enjoyed the quiet moment.
Maybe it was weird, but she’d come to really appreciate the small things since she’d hit it big. Most times, she never talked about her childhood to anyone within her inner circle, much less reporters who asked. Her daddy had done a fine-enough job for a single father, but times had been hard and there was no way of prettying up that simple fact. Her time with the Bradfords had been the first stint of stability she’d ever had, similar to Kane and Rian. Not that her daddy had been abusive like the Dalton boys’ daddy, God no, but her daddy hadn’t always done a good job of providing a sense of home for his only daughter. Oh, Daddy...I wish you were still here. You’d know how to handle Trent.
All she’d done was run away from her problem, but it would be right where she left it when she went back. The dissatisfying smack of reality threatened to sour the milk she’d just enjoyed, so she let it go. She’d deal with that later. In the meantime, she was going to find a way to help Cora without stepping on her toes too much. She turned a critical eye to the kitchen. Maybe some new appliances? Surely that wouldn’t be overstepping too much. But first...she surveyed her glittering costume with a smirk; she needed to get a few things from town.
LACI DROVE INTO WOODSVILLE, sunglasses on, trying as much as possible to blend in, but really, that was a tall order, particularly while wearing the glittery sparkler of a costume that practically screamed, Hey, look at me! While that worked well for being onstage, it definitely made her stand out—in a bad way—in a small town where cotton blends were the norm. The last thing she needed was someone to recognize her and Trent to find out prematurely where she was. She knew she had to return at some point—she had a tour to finish—but she wasn’t ready to face that world again. Not yet. First things first, she needed to find some different clothes.
Laci walked into the first clothing store she found, a small consignment/thrift store. She cringed at the odd stares coming her way and hustled to the racks to find some simple jean shorts and T-shirts to get her through the next few days. As luck would have it, she actually found quite a few cute outfits and scooped them up before the stares turned into questions she wanted to avoid.
Standing at the checkout, she asked the clerk, “May I use your dressing room to change?”
“Sure, honey,” the woman answered, giving Laci a speculative and openly curious look. “That’s some outfit you have there.”
Laci risked a brief smile. “Costume party,” she answered with what she hoped was a believable lie, but she didn’t waste time on details and simply disappeared into the changing room with her new-to-her clothing.
The fact was, being a celebrity wasn’t quite what she’d thought it was going to be like. All those people wanting a piece of her every night was more than a little unsettling. All she’d ever wanted to do was sing. Now, people wanted more than just her voice, they wanted her damn clothing, too! Once, a woman had practically ripped a piece of her costume off her body, screeching with victory as she’d sprinted away from Security with her prize. Laci had been stunned that someone would want a piece of her sweaty costume and then a little freaked out because what was the woman going to do with it? But Simone had been pissed as hell because she’d spent hours sewing that costume.
At the thought of Simone, Laci almost picked up her cell and gave her a ring, but she couldn’t bring herself to do even that—not that she didn’t want to worry Simone, but she couldn’t take the chance that Trent might be lurking nearby. Trent’s not a bad guy, her daddy’s voice chided her from inside her mind. He’s made you a star and this is a fine howdy-do you’ve handed him for all his hard work. I raised you better than that, didn’t I?
Laci pursed her lips. True, Daddy, but Trent’s driving me into the ground. I need this. Just a few days, I promise.
Her next stop was the small, locally owned furniture store, Bleudell’s. She walked into the store and went straight to the appliances. Cora wouldn’t want something too fancy, but maybe something just slightly better than what she had. Maybe even the same model, only newer, she thought, eyeing the refrigerators.
“Can I help you find something?” The friendly voice at her back caused her to turn with a shy smile, a little afraid of being
