Who I Am With You (My Kind Of Country #1) Read online

  Who I Am With You

  Book One in the My Kind Of Country Series

  M. Lynne Cunning

  Who I Am With You

  Copyright © 2016 by M. Lynne Cunning.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: February 2016

  Fifth Ink Publishing, LLC.

  Iowa

  www.fifthinkpublishing.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, scanning, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Please do not partake in or encourage piracy of copyrighted works in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting this author’s hard work.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to locales, events, or actual persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-0692609132

  ISBN-10: 069260913X

  Prologue

  CHAD

  “I’m sorry, Chad.”

  The silence grew thick between them, not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because Chad was doing everything in his power to calm himself and not blurt out every thought catapulting through his mind. All he could manage was to stare at Liz in disbelief, unable to comprehend how she could so easily sum it up with a simple apology.

  “That’s it? You’re sorry. You say it like it makes it all right, Liz. Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” His voice was getting louder, his desperation to maintain control now shrouded in anger.

  “For hurting you,” she explained in a weak voice. The edge of calmness he was about to careen over must have been obvious. Liz seemed less sure of herself, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. Another bout of silence fell between them. Chad didn’t trust himself enough to speak. Instead, a defeated sigh tumbled past his lips and he ran his hand through his hair. The truth finally sank in and he let his shoulders lower slightly as he reluctantly accepted the ending of the life he’d led, the life he and Liz had built together for the past decade. Without warning, it was Liz who had changed everything in a matter of minutes, not seeming to give a damn about how the decision might affect him. She was done, they were over, and there was nothing else for Chad to do but let her go.

  “There’s nothing I can do or say to make you stay, is there?” It was his last feeble attempt at holding onto the hope of reconciliation, a chance to make things good between them again. Even in his own ears, however, the question sounded like a desperate plea.

  It was Liz’s turn to sigh, although she sounded more annoyed than broken. “I told you, Chad, we’re just too different now. We’re not the same people we were ten years ago. We’re going in different directions.”

  He knew what she was referring to, and it wasn’t the first time they had discussed it. It was, however, the only time it had resulted in her bags being packed and her guitar case by the door.

  “Just because I won’t change the kind of music I make doesn’t mean we have to be over.” It was the only time during the whole conversation he’d defended himself. Maybe Liz was right. Maybe he did fight more for his music than he did for her. Then again, Liz of all people, should have understood that Chad’s heart and soul went into doing what he loved. After all, she was doing the same, and that was why they had moved to Nashville straight out of high school. Two like-minded, passionate dreamers with unwavering aspirations of being the next big thing in the country music industry and a devotion to each other that was unheard of between teenagers. He never dreamed there would come a day when she would make him choose, when being together wouldn’t be enough.

  “Change isn’t always a bad thing,” Liz advised.

  He wasn’t sure if she was referring to the kind of country music he was set on writing or the unexpected change in their relationship status. Either way, Chad didn’t agree with her.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Pardon me?” Shock laced her voice, her eyes wide as she glared at him.

  “I said, what’s his name?” Not once did Chad take his eyes off her, not daring to blink even though each second he stared at her guilt-ridden expression pained him more than the last. He swallowed audibly, knowing he was right.

  “This is about us, Chad. Nothing else.” Liz’s gaze faltered. She didn’t look nervous, just caught in the web of lies and suspicions that continued to extend across and taint what little remained of the love between them.

  “Liz, everything was fine while Take Me Home was climbing nicely up the charts. Admit it, you saw dollar signs and glitz and glamour. You thought we’d finally made it. I did, too, babe. So the follow-up single didn’t cut it on the radio—big deal. We’ve fought this long to get where we are. We’ll keep fighting. Eventually—”

  Liz held up her hands, cutting him off mid-sentence. “There is no eventually, Chad,” she announced, exasperated. “We came here to make music, to be a part of the country music world. This world is changing, though, and you’re not willing to adapt to it. You’ll never be a part of something you’re not willing to change for.”

  “I’m not into all the pop crossover stuff—”

  “That’s what country music is right now.”

  “Not all of it, Liz.”

  “That’s what’s popular right now, Chad.”

  “It’s not real country. Not my kind of country, anyway.”

  “You have to play what will sell.”

  “I am. Take Me Home did pretty well—”

  “You got lucky!” Liz blurted out. The sharp gasp that followed confirmed she hadn’t actually meant to say the words out loud, but the damage had already been done.

  Chad’s eyes narrowed, and he searched her eyes as though really looking at her for the first time. Words flooded his mind, things he could have uttered just to have a hurtful retort. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment and took a step backward.

  “I guess you’ve said all you need to say then,” he breathed, unsure if he’d managed to harness the bitterness and anger that was quickly overshadowing the hurt and pain he had initially felt. Knowing that Liz no longer loved him was hard enough to fathom, but the idea that she no longer believed in him or the dream he was committed to chasing, that was a pill too tough to swallow.

  She stayed silent as she padded toward the door in her socks, sending flickering glances his way through her bangs as she bent to pull her cowboy boots on. Her favorites, a pair of Justin boots with turquoise and yellow stitching he’d bought for her on Valentine’s Day two years ago. At least, she’d said they were her favorites. Chad didn’t know what to believe anymore.

  “We’re too different now,” she repeated, standing tall again to face him. He got the feeling she was trying to convince herself of that as well.

  “So you’ve so blatantly pointed out.” His words were meant to be cold, expressionless.

  “I’m really sorry, Chad.” Liz’s hands were already on the handles of her luggage bags.

  “You’ve said that, too.”

  He watched as she nodded curtly, an air of finality in her movements as she swung her guitar case up onto her shoulder. His gaze lingered where the case met the small of her back. The woman he’d loved since he was old enough to know what love was, the inspiration for every lyric he sang and every chord he played, was walking away from him. From the us they’d been for so long.

  Liz reached for the doorknob and let her fingertips touch the burnished metal. She hesitated, her spine suddenly rigid and straight when sh
e turned back around to face him.

  “Chad?”

  She said his name as a question, but he was out of answers. Words failed him, and the sad humiliation in her eyes tore through the remnants of the broken pieces she was leaving him in, so he said nothing. Chad met her gaze, one last desperate thread of hope that maybe she’d changed her mind.

  “His name is Jonathan.”

  ***

  KATIE

  Katie slid the last cardboard box off the tailgate of the truck and set it on the front porch steps with the others. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her flushed face and she wiped it away with the back of her hand, taking another glance around as though to familiarize herself with her surroundings again. A sigh reverberated through her, knowing too well that nothing had changed.

  Yet, everything was different.

  Her father was gone, therefore, the vast acres around her that housed so many fond memories and warm thoughts could no longer hold the appeal and magic they once had for her. The property may look just as it had when he was alive, but it wasn’t the same. It just wasn’t. This was his property, his sanctuary, and no matter what his legal will or the property deed said, she would never be able to view it as her own.

  Enough already, she scolded herself silently. She couldn’t undo her father’s death, and she couldn’t go back on her promise to herself to make this farmhouse and acreage her home. She’d have done anything for her father while he was alive, and that loyalty would not waver just because he had passed away. She sniffed back the sobs that were forming at the base of her throat and forced herself to go inside, plucking one of the boxes from the porch steps as she passed by it.

  Inside, the faint scent of cedar mixed with lavender invaded her senses. The entire interior of the spacious farmhouse had been done in tongue-and-groove cedar planks. For weeks, she’d watched the rooms of the house transform from outdated and in need of repair to comforting and rustically modern, all done by her father’s bare hands and painstaking meticulous attention to detail. Sometimes, on her days off from the hospital, she’d even lent a hand, passing boards one by one to him as he worked on his final masterpiece. Now, as she inhaled the scent of those boards that lingered together with the floral aroma of the lavender candle she had burning, she was overcome with gratitude for the days she’d been allowed to spend with him working on this old place, realizing she’d never once thought for a moment that their days together had been numbered.

  Katie snapped back to reality and shook her head, wondering if she’d ever get back to being her normal, focused, not-so-scatterbrained self. She pushed the box onto the kitchen table and stole a glance at the clock. Mason would be home from school soon. Thankfully, the school bus picked him up and dropped him off at the end of their laneway. Therefore, as long as she allowed herself five or so minutes to walk down the long, winding gravel path that led to their house, she’d be on time to greet his smiling face when he arrived home. She’d even have time to get supper on the go before Jay got home from...

  Jay.

  A new wave of despair flooded through her as she realized her mistake. Jay wouldn’t be home in time for dinner, no matter what time she got it started. This wasn’t his home, anyway. He was still in their home, the cozy condominium they’d both purchased six years ago just before Mason had been born.

  I guess freedom was easier for him than ‘for better or for worse’. Katie swallowed hard, shaking her head in disappointment as she ripped the packing tape from the box in front of her and attempted to do something more productive than ruminate about the things she couldn’t change. When she flipped open the cardboard flaps and came face to face with one of the crystal whisky tumblers that Jay’s parents had given them as an engagement present, a strangled cry of anger erupted from her throat and she heaved the glass at the cedar walls without thinking, all of her withheld pain, hurt, and fear tearing out of her at once. As the tumbler shattered, scattering sparkling shards of crystal across the hardwood floor, Katie’s eyes widened. Shocked at her own sudden outburst, she just stared in stunned silence at the glistening mess. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to give life to the crystal shards somehow, and Katie stared still, struggling with the beauty and the horror of it all. The set of four matching tumblers was now only a set of three, just as her and Mason’s little family was now only a family of two. And, really, if Katie was honest with herself, her truest sadness came from knowing that, without her father, she had no one else anymore. She was alone.

  She wiped her eyes then swallowed the sob that threatened to escape her lips. She stole another glance at the clock and smoothed back her hair, heading for the door. With her mask of a content, happy mother in place, she set off to greet her son at the end of the laneway after his long day at school.

  Chapter One

  CHAD

  Chad turned his Chevy truck off the highway down a thickly treed laneway. The address matched the one listed on the small strip of paper he had ripped from the advertisement tacked up on the corkboard inside the door of the local general store. Now, the strip of paper was lying on the bench seat of the truck. Chad had consulted it twice on the way, making sure he was still going the right way. Thankfully, a wooden sign boasting “Rustic Acres Ranch” had been erected out by the highway, otherwise he may have missed the laneway altogether.

  As he drove, he took in his surroundings. The autumn colors were blazing brightly all around him, the treetops so full of leaves that only a strip of the clear sky above him could be seen. He turned the steering wheel right, then left, then right again, following the twists and turns of the dirt road. Just when he thought he must have made a wrong turn somewhere, the road opened into a gravel clearing and a couple of outbuildings came into view.

  Rustic Acres Ranch had a name that the property was doing a good job of living up to. Rustic was the only way he could describe the plywood and wooden slab construction of the buildings. That being said, the establishment didn’t seem rundown, just a bit primitive.

  He parked his truck beside an older model Ford pickup under a copse of trees. The crunch of gravel seemed to echo in his ears as he climbed out of it and slammed the door. The thought was flitting through his mind that he’d possibly just made the long drive out there for nothing when he heard a loud bang as the screen door to one of the outbuildings smacked shut, a muffled wave of low music wafting toward him before it closed. He turned abruptly as the melody reached his ears and met the steely gaze of a slender woman who looked even younger than his thirty years of age.

  “Can I help you?” she called out from the porch, shielding her eyes from the sun. The pink bandana wrapped around her tied-up hair made it impossible for Chad to discern the color of it. Silently, he guessed that she was a blonde, knowing a golden hue would complement the fairness of her skin well. He took a few tentative steps toward her, pulling his hat off his own head out of respect as he moved.

  “I’m Chad, ma’am. Chad... Kirkwood.” It had been so long since he’d uttered his own surname it sounded foreign on his lips. A wave of satisfaction washed through him and he fought to keep the grin from showing on his face. He was himself again, and he could introduce himself as such. As he closed the distance between them with a few hurried steps, he saw her eyebrow arch curiously.

  “Do I know you, Mr. Kirkwood?” Her voice exuded suspicion. Rightly so, he thought to himself. He stuttered out the explanation for his unannounced arrival in hopes of easing her mind a bit.

  “Sorry, I’m not... I mean, I saw your ad posted at the general store in town.” He unfolded the wrinkled piece of paper in his hand and offered it toward her. “You’re looking for some help around here?”

  Chad watched her eye him warily, as though trying to decipher whether he was serious or not. The skepticism she wore was blatant enough that it caused him to look down at his dusty jeans and black T-shirt as well, wondering if he looked unacceptable to be seeking out a job. After a moment, the woman took a few steps forward an
d offered her hand toward him.

  “Sorry,” she offered politely. “You’re just not who I expected would answer such a job posting, that’s all.” Before he could ask, she raised her eyes to meet his and smirked. “Students,” she explained. “I thought I’d get a bunch of students.”

  Chad looked at her wryly, taking her hand in his and shaking it gently. “Well, I can be taught, too.”

  As though finally breaking through an unseen exterior, the woman laughed. “I’m sure you can. I’m Katie. Good to meet you, Chad.”

  He knew she was pretty from the moment he’d laid his gaze upon her, but until she’d laughed and allowed a genuine smile to cross her face, he’d never realized how pretty she actually was. A natural kind of beauty, no makeup required. He gave her hand a tender squeeze and released it, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “So, what’s this job entail, Katie? I used to work with my grandfather at his farm when I was younger, but I’m not afraid to admit that it’s been a while since those days.”

  “Is that your way of telling me you’ve got no idea what you’re doing?”

  “Is saying you expected to hire a student your way of saying the pay sucks?”

  Chad stared at Katie unblinking for what seemed like hours. Not wanting to upset her, he decided to take the high ground and try to set the conversation back on more solid ground. “I said I might be a bit rusty. I’ll figure it out.”

  “You don’t even know what you’re figuring out yet.” Katie was obviously quite skilled at the art of arguing. Well, that made two of them.

  “Well, I’ll figure that out, too.” Her expression made it hard for Chad to know whether she was purposely being argumentative or just showing off her sense of humor, so he flashed a sly grin toward her and added, “You’re the boss. If you tell me to figure it out, I’ll have to.”

  “Hmm, this just might work out.” Katie crossed her arms, grinning back at him.