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“Jolene,” he said with another swallow.
“Jolene,” she repeated.
“She likes my music.” Kyle’s chest warmed with those four simple words. “I did tour with That Little Texas Band a while ago, and I sort of thought that was it for me. No one in country music wanted anything I was doing five years ago.”
Maddy said nothing, and Kyle kept his gaze out the windshield as she approached the highway and made the right turn. The roads in Texas all seemed to wind through trees and hills until finally, one would land in a small town with a few amenities.
Chestnut Springs had several restaurants, parks, and more, but the town was also a hub for several state parks and major hiking trails. Dripping Springs wasn’t as big, and Maddy would serpentine her way there along two-lane highways until they arrived at her house with the mint green door.
At least Kyle assumed the door was still mint green. Maddy did like to change things quite often—most recently, her hair—and he couldn’t know about the door for sure.
“But producers turn over a lot,” he said, his voice falling a few decibels. “Trends come and go. My sound is definitely more country than rock, and that’s what’s been popular for a while now.”
“Maybe not anymore,” Maddy said.
“Maybe not.”
“She hasn’t offered you a contract?”
“Not yet,” he said. “We’ve been emailing and I spoke to her on the phone a few times. I went up to Nashville last week.” He’d missed the first summer concert of the season, but Todd had handled it for him. He already had all the bands booked through Labor Day, and he’d started working on filling their autumnal schedule. They only did concerts once a month then, except for the holiday season, where he’d decided to do a concert every evening during the Christmas season.
He’d booked two extremely popular country groups to do multiple evenings, and he really only needed a couple more names to add to the list before that would be full too.
Someone could definitely take over for him if he left to return to his country music career. The thought made Kyle simultaneously warm and cold at the same time. He loved working on his family’s ranch, alongside his brothers and sisters. He honestly did. Sometimes one or two of them would annoy him, but for the most part, he got along well with everyone.
Life on the road wasn’t that fun, despite how glamorous it looked on TV and in the movies. He knew it was “grab an hour of sleep while you can,” and then “smile for the cameras, eat whatever they put in front of you, and sing even when you feel like garbage.”
He’d toured for a year, and he hadn’t even been the main band. He told himself he wouldn’t be touring right out of the gate. Heck, he might not tour at all. Not every country artist did—only the big names. The huge superstars the record label needed to make their money back on. There were lots of smaller artists who simply made beautiful records and never spent a day on stage.
Even as Kyle thought about that, he knew he didn’t want it. He could’ve been recording his songs here in Chestnut Springs if he just wanted his music out there. He knew a guy at the local radio station, and Gibson would’ve played Kyle’s songs over the airwaves.
No, Kylewantedthe tour. He wanted to step out from the wings of the stage, into the bright lights, and have crowds cheering and whistling for him.
Forhim.
He wasn’t sure why this need existed within him, and he’d been ashamed of it a few times. In the end, he didn’t think it came from pride. His love of performance and wanting to please a crowd simplywashim, and he often felt stifled as he set up gigs for others.
“Kyle?” Maddy’s hand landed on his thigh, and he flinched. He looked down at it, and easily took her fingers between his.
“Hm?”
“You got lost,” she said.
He smiled at her, glad when she returned it though her eyes barely flicked away from the road. “Sorry. I was just thinking about…something.”
“What?”
“What it would be like to sign with them,” he said honestly. “It’s something I’ve wanted my whole life. Something I thought I wouldn’t have the chance for. But now… I don’t know. It still might not happen, but Jolene is interested. She’s meeting with her team and higher-ups this week, actually.”
“What would you do if you signed with them?”
“Do? I’d go record an album with them.”
“In Nashville.”
“Yeah,” he said. “In Nashville.”
She remained silent for a few seconds, and then she asked, “How long does it take to record an album?”
