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“Good,” he said quickly.

  “But sometimes it’s hard not to hear what people are saying,” Shannon admitted, sounding ashamed. “I saw those pictures of you, and I’m not going to lie, it really upsets me, Phoenix. I’m worried about your health. People mourn in all different ways, but I don’t want to see you self-medicate.”

  Phoenix tilted his head skyward and looked up at the smooth white ceilings above him.

  “I don’t need to hear how I’ve disappointed you right now, mom,” he said.

  “You could never disappoint me,” she said. “But I’m worried. I am.”

  Shannon Brooks had made no secret that Phoenix was her favorite son. Phoenix always knew this, just as he knew his father had a soft spot for Hunter and the eldest brother, Jett. She had always encouraged Phoenix to do whatever he felt was right. She’d been his biggest cheerleader and, perhaps, his biggest enabler. She never lectured him and never said no. So, the fact that she was expressing concern for his wellbeing wasn’t lost on him. Things must have looked very, very bad.

  “Speaking of disappointments,” Phoenix said quietly. “Have you heard…?”

  “From your brother?” she asked curiously. She didn’t specify which brother she was talking about—she never did, despite having six sons—but they both knew they were speaking about Hunter.

  “That they’re engaged?” he followed up quickly.

  Shannon went quiet, and he could practically see her twirling the phone cord on her finger. His parents were still the kind of people who had their phone latched up against the wall in the kitchen with a long, white cord that could stretch from room to room.

  “Yes,” she said solemnly. “I heard.”

  Phoenix let out a sigh. So, it was true.

  “When is the wedding?” he asked. “Did you speak to him directly?”

  “No, I didn’t, but your father did,” Shannon replied. “The wedding is in June, I think, but we haven’t received any formal invitation so I can’t be sure.”

  “Six months,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Wow.”

  His heart sunk at the thought of it. He stared at the door to the nursery and felt like kicking it down. Rachel and Hunter couldn’t wait for him to get out of their way. How long had they been in love, and how stupid had Phoenix been not to see it all those years?

  “I don’t like to talk about this; you know that,” his mother said, her voice a tearful panic. “Please, Phoenix, it upsets me, and it will upset you, too.”

  “I’m going to go,” he said curtly.

  “Don’t end on a bad note, please,” his mother said.

  “I’m not,” he assured her, though couldn’t convey anything in his tone except for sadness. “I have to go unpack, Mom. I’ll call you later, alright? Say hi to Dad for me.”

  “I will,” she said. “I love you.”

  “You too,” he said before ending the call.

  Phoenix stepped into the nursery in front of him and stared at the white dresser in between the two tall windows, the gray tufted couch and round matching ottoman that Rachel insisted on having for the baby’s room. He looked at the striped warm gray walls and black crib.

  Phoenix usually loved the quiet. He loved solitude. It helped him write. But this home, this quiet, was deafening.

  The house felt haunted by ghosts; the air crept with soft prickles of all the things he didn’t say when Rachel was still there to talk to.

  He sat on the couch and picked a furry lamb up into his hands. He thumbed across its button eyes and

  He felt a swarm of heat enter his throat, like a fiery breath waiting to come out and destroy everything. He wanted to cry.

  Phoenix left the room quickly, closing the door behind him and vowing never to go back inside.

  He sat on the living room couch with his head in his hands and desperately wished he could talk to Rachel.

  He had never been through a big life event without her at his side. Even if he was in a different city or state, he could always call her and ask her what to do. He felt alone in a way that he’d never experienced before.

  He’d been with Rachel for ten years, and now the label wanted him to find someone else?

  Phoenix hadn’t been able to comprehend that things were really over between them. As painful as it was, part of him hoped that Rachel would come back to him after she got this thing with Hunter out of her system.

  They lost a baby. They were spiraling.

  If she needed to have a meltdown and rebel, he could wait for her.

  He promised himself he would wait.

  She called him during a lawyer’s meeting once, begging for his consent to buy out the Brookside name and own Hunter’s ranch outright. His heart was broken, but he loved her enough to give her what she wanted, still thinking that maybe she would come to her senses.

  He stared at his guitar across the living room. It was a vintage Taylor acoustic that he’d had since he was a teenager. It was made with Hawaiian koa wood. The swirls of dark and light wood dancing and intertwining together gave it a moody look.

  Phoenix wrote all of his songs on this guitar. He never took the instrument out on stage, but he always kept it in his trailer, hotel room, or whichever home he was staying at.

  There was hot, burning hate inside his chest that made him want to reach out for the Taylor and put pen to paper; voice to chord. But for the first time in his life, he couldn’t write.

  Losing Rachel and losing their child had been the most painful thing he had ever experienced. The words flowed out of him like lava from a volcano, fiery and fresh with details and emotion. He had never written songs as easily as he had after Rachel left. The hurt was so real.

  But this pain, finding out Rachel was engaged, was something else entirely. It hurt more than Phoenix could comprehend.

  He’d never met devastation he couldn’t write about, until now.

  Chapter Four

  Miranda

  Moving was difficult when you didn’t have a credit card in your name.

  Miranda’s debts made it impossible for her to get an apartment when she moved back to Willowdale. She thought she could find an old friend or foster parent to crash with for a while, but apparently, she’d left a bad taste in their mouths. She ended up begging a local trashy hotel owner so she could pay cash daily to rent a room.

  Her room consisted of a round bed, a seventies dresser, nightstand, Bible, and bathroom. There wasn’t so much as a minifridge to keep food in or microwave to cook with.

  This meant that the only hot meals Miranda had gotten since coming back to the chilly December in Utah had been the comped ones at the ranch.

  Her job paid well, but so far, Miranda had only been paid once and had been getting relentless calls from the government—which she’d been ignoring.

  “What’s this?” Miranda asked as she met Birdie for lunch at work.

  Birdie was sitting in the break room with two plates of potatoes, beans, and steak for the duo. It was going to be a hearty lunch, for sure. She also had a shiny red gift bag sitting between the plates.

  “I’ve decided that we’re going to do a media swap,” Birdie announced as she began tying her long hair up into a thick scrunchie.

  “Have you now?” Miranda laughed, peeking into the bag.

  “Yes,” Birdie nodded. “We have basically nothing in common, and I want to be your friend. So, I’ve decided that I’m going to try some of your creepy books and scary movies and you are going to try my feelgood books and adorable movies.”

  Miranda couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips as she looked into the bag. There were a couple of books and two thumb-drives, which she assumed held the shows and films.

  “I kind of love this idea,” she said, rifling through some of the books. “Memories of Summer? Country’s greatest hits?” The latter was written on the thumb drive in tiny, precise cursive.

  “I’m starting you off slow,” Birdie said before tucking into her baked potato. “Oh! Oh! Sp
eaking of which!” she said excitedly. “Did you hear? Did you hear?”

  “What?” Miranda said, sitting down next to her and moving the bag to the back of the table so she could get a good look at her friend. “No? What happened?”

  “The owner is back!”

  Miranda blinked. “The owner of the ranch?”

  “Yes,” Birdie gushed. She’d never seen the girl blush before! “Phoenix Brooks!”

  Miranda nodded but wasn’t exactly sold on why this was so exciting. Didn’t the boss coming back mean everybody was going to be on edge now? Kind of like how a supervisor comes in and everybody goes rigid?

  Then it clicked in. “Wait, isn’t that one of the bands you mentioned the other day?” she asked.

  Birdie’s jaw dropped, and she emphatically dropped her fork so that it clattered onto her plate. “Oh, my goodness. You’ve never heard of Phoenix Brooks?” she asked, and Miranda shook her head. “Country superstar?” Still no. “Miranda!” her new friend scolded.

  “And he owns the ranch?” Miranda asked with a shrug.

  Her co-worker took a sharp breath and put both of her hands up. “Okay,” she said firmly. “It’s this whole thing. The Brookside ranches are all across America, and they’re each owned by one of the Brooks siblings. Anyway, I guess he’s back for a while as he writes his new album. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “As you have learned, I am not exactly a country superfan,” she snorted. “What does a superstar want with a cowboy ranch, anyway?”

  “First of all, it’s called a Dude Ranch, not a cowboy ranch,” her friend said.

  Miranda tapped her nose and then reached an arm over to give Birdie a half-hug. “You’re such a good teach, teach!”

  Birdie giggled. “Second of all, he started out ranching. The music happened afterward. That’s why it’s mostly Mr. Montgomery and Mrs. Sandalwood who run the place when he’s not around.”

  Miranda raised her brows and said, “Exciting.”

  “I know you’re saying that like it isn’t, but it is! You’ll see.”

  Birdie wasn’t wrong. The whole ranch was abuzz with his return. Maybe if Miranda listened to country music, she would have cared, but she was perfectly happy with her pop-rock.

  Birdie talked about him so much that Miranda started to wonder whether she had a fangirl crush on him, though Birdie admitted she had only met him in passing.

  Days went by, and Miranda had yet to catch a glimpse of this alleged country superstar.

  It wasn’t until she was punching out one evening that Birdie landed a vice grip on her arm and began nodding toward the door. “Oh my gosh, that’s him,” she whispered, starstruck.

  Miranda turned around. She was expecting to be swept away by good looks and charm, but the guy hardly looked like a celebrity. He was tall and thin with light brown, shaggy hair and a face full of stubble.

  He made small talk with one of the other employees before turning his attention to Miranda. He offered her a smirk, and Birdie’s grip on her arm tightened so fast it made Miranda laugh.

  “Hey,” he said, reaching a hand out toward her. “You’re Miranda Newton, right?”

  “The new girl,” she said with a nod. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Phoenix Brooks,” he shook her hand. “Can I talk to you in my office for a second?”

  “Sure thing,” she said.

  Birdie’s eyes went as wide as saucers as she watched Miranda gather her things and follow her boss toward the door. She mouthed the word ‘DETAILS!’ and Miranda gave her a wink before disappearing into the hallway.

  Phoenix’s office had a glass ceiling and two glass walls. The curtains were drawn, but she could imagine he had a sweeping view of the ranch from the room. The rest of the walls were rustic wood beams, and there was a couch, desk, and built-in bookcases.

  They sat on opposite sides of the desk, and for the first time since she got to Brookside Ranch, she felt nervous.

  For someone who probably interacted with fans all the time, he wasn’t exactly warm and friendly. He wasn’t making small talk and hadn’t said a word to her since they were back in the staff room.

  “Nice office,” she said, desperate to kill the silence.

  He didn’t acknowledge her compliment. Instead, he stared at his computer screen before meeting her eyes and asking, “How are you doing here at Brookside? Do you feel like you’re getting the hang of things here?”

  “I love it here. Birdie is teaching me a lot. Plus, it’s so peaceful, and the guests are all so nice an—” she stalled. “Wait...I’m not fired, am I?”

  “What?” he blinked. “No, no, nothing like that. You’re a hard worker and we certainly don’t want to lose you.” He paused. “Look, I don’t mean to embarrass you…”

  Her heart sank immediately. If he was about to humiliate her, then she knew this could only be about one thing.

  “I received a call today from the government concerning your work. They have put us under the uncomfortable obligation to garnish your wages.”

  “To...?” she said, trailing off.

  “That is,” he said slowly, “they’re going to be taking a percentage of your wages to pay off any debts you may have towards them.”

  Her eyes quickly found the floor, and she rubbed her hands against her cheeks. Don’t panic, she told herself. This was a good thing. Or it could be a good thing. She had planned on paying off the government anyway; she just didn’t know quite how to do it yet. This would just push things forward in a positive direction.

  “Oh my gosh,” she exhaled. “By how much?”

  “By eighty percent, unfortunately.”

  Her head sprung up, giving him a surprised stare. That was definitely not going to be a positive direction.

  “They’re taking eighty percent of my wages?” she repeated in a panic. “For how long?”

  “Until the debt is paid off, I’m afraid,” he said.

  “Can they really do that?”

  “I’m very sorry. I don’t mean to pry into your personal life, but I wanted to let you know so that you can figure out how you would like to proceed.”

  Miranda felt lightheaded. She wanted to ask him what he meant or what she should do, but she couldn’t get the words to leave her mouth.

  Phoenix’s blue eyes were incredibly watchful. He asked, “Are you alright?” and it was the first time he seemed even remotely kind.

  “I mean, obviously I’ve been better,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I’m just having a bad day. A lot of bad days, actually. A bad time. That would be a more apt way to describe it,” she said, pulling in a breath. “A bad life, maybe,” she began to nod, desperate for a breath.

  “I can relate,” he said simply.

  Without warning, Miranda began to cry. It was a hard cry with heaping breaths like she couldn’t get enough air. Her face felt hot. It was everything—the breakup, the debt, the life she’d envisioned for herself disappearing before her eyes. She tried to apologize to the poor guy sitting across from her, but she couldn’t seem to speak.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he hushed, slowly getting up and kneeling next to her.

  “It’s not okay,” she cried. “I’m out of money, and I’m,” she hiccupped. “I’m really scared, and I have no one to talk to. I have nobody. I’m not going to have anywhere to go.”

  Phoenix drew his fair brows together. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Where are you living now?”

  “I’m just renting a room,” she shook her head. “And I’m not going to be able to afford it anymore. Oh my gosh, I’m going to be homeless.”

  “Shh, it’s okay. Settle down.”

  She tried to calm down. She tried biting the insides of her lips and digging her fingernails into her thighs to distract her, but her mind was reeling.

  The gravity of her life finally fell in on her. She didn’t have William. She didn’t have a house—she didn’t even have loving parents to fall back on in times of distress. She would probably end
up in jail for tax evasion, and not one single person in the entire world would care.

  She was full-on hyperventilating, and she tried to say, “I have,” she gasped, “no one.”

  Phoenix let out a noise, but she couldn’t register what he’d said. She was shaking. Then she felt his hand on her arm. She turned to him, and he set both hands on her cheeks.

  “Hey,” he hushed. “Can you hear me?”

  She nodded.

  “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Focus on the sound of my voice, okay?” he instructed, and she began to nod. “You’re having a panic attack. It’ll be over in a minute, okay?”

  Again, she nodded, but her body began to tremble harder.

  He held his warm hands against her face for what felt like forever, breathing with her and giving her instructions. She didn’t know how he did it or how long they sat like that, but she went from feeling like she was having a heart attack to feeling settled, if not a little shaken.

  Chapter Five

  Phoenix

  Phoenix had a long list of things he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to record his record and get it out to the public. He wanted to be back on tour, and he wanted to make things right with his management.

  But more than anything else, he wanted Rachel.

  Yet, his attention had shifted from all of these things over the last three days to Miranda Newton, the girl he had met at the ranch.

  He hadn’t been able to focus on anything else ever since she said she had no one. She was alone.

  Phoenix knew what that felt like. Loneliness had crept into his world like a fog that blinded the rest of his ambitions.

  But unlike Miranda, Phoenix couldn’t relate to her financial situation. Financial stress? Yes.

  Owing money? Sure.

  But having the government come in and take everything you have? No, definitely not. The very thought horrified him.

  Phoenix tried to reason that she’d somehow brought this on herself. She had obviously made some bad decisions. But isn’t that what happens when you don’t pay your taxes—don’t follow the law?