Run, Rose, Run(71)

Maybe not, AnnieLee thought, but she’d like to be doing a whole lot better. Thanks to new expenses like cottages and publicists, she was still just scraping by. And ACD was mad about Kip Hart, even though they’d seen the footage and they knew it was hardly her fault.

She popped one of the cherries into her mouth. It was so sweet it made her teeth hurt. She cocked her head toward the stage. “You got anyone playing tonight?”

“I’m giving my ears the night off,” he said. “If you were going to offer, though, now that would be something else.”

She laughed. “I’m taking the night off, too,” she said.

There was a bang from the back of the bar. Startled, AnnieLee nearly leaped off her stool. Billy glanced up in alarm as the emergency exit door swung open. But it was only Ethan striding in, followed by Ruthanna, her face nearly invisible behind huge sunglasses and a headscarf.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Billy said. “Ten years she didn’t set a high heel in this place, and then you come to town and she’s practically a regular.”

AnnieLee took a casual sip of her drink as if they hadn’t just scared her half to death.

Ethan waved. “Sorry, we had to sneak in the back,” he said. “I didn’t want a mob following us in.” He glanced around at the other customers. “These guys in here gonna be cool?”

“Yeah, they’ve pretty much only got eyes for their beers.”

While AnnieLee was thinking about how weird it would be to have to disguise yourself in order to walk into your own bar, Jack came in the front with a huge bouquet of sunflowers.

“What the heck?” AnnieLee said to Ethan. “I thought it was just you and me and a bucket of fries.” She was still processing the Kip Hart fiasco, and she’d been hoping Ethan would make her feel better about it.

“We figured you could use some cheering up,” Ruthanna said, freeing her spectacular hair from its silk scarf. “Surprise!”

“Well, shoot, I left the party dress that I don’t own at home,” AnnieLee said.

They all sat down together at a table near the empty stage. Jack pulled out Ruthanna’s chair for her, and Ethan pulled out AnnieLee’s, and she bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say something sarcastic about how she couldn’t have possibly moved that big ol’ chair with her tiny lady arms.

Sometimes chivalry is just nice, she reminded herself.

“We’ll take a round of martinis, please, Billy,” Ruthanna said.

“And six orders of fries,” Ethan shouted. Then he turned to Ruthanna. “I’m telling you—‘Flowers’ by Billy Yates.”

“Ethan and I are having a disagreement about which country song is the saddest,” Ruthanna told Jack and AnnieLee. “He’s wrong, of course, but he’s mule-stubborn. Everyone knows the saddest song is ‘He Stopped Loving Her Today.’”

“What about ‘Chiseled in Stone’ by Vern Gosdin?” Jack asked.

“How about ‘Gypsy, Joe, and Me’?” AnnieLee said. “That one sneaks up on you.”

“Oh, you’re so right!” Ruthanna exclaimed, nodding. “The tempo’s upbeat, and it’s got those climbing key changes. If you weren’t listening to the lyrics, you’d think it was a happy tune.” Then she smiled slyly. “Ten bucks says I can make someone cry if I sing it.”

“Deal,” said Ethan.

“Done,” said Ruthanna. She walked over to the bar and said, “Billy, you got that new guitar I had sent over?”

“Sure do, ma’am.”

“Well, give it to me, why don’t you? And don’t call me ma’am.”

Ruthanna came back to the table and sat down, holding the guitar gracefully in her lovely, manicured hands. She strummed the opening bars, and then she began to sing.

We might have slept in the mayor’s yard or camped by the river bank

We fed ourselves from the fruit of the land and quenched our thirst with rain



The words lifted and curled over the notes of the guitar, and everyone in the bar held their breath. The customers who hadn’t even noticed Ruthanna come in stood suddenly frozen, awed, as one of the greatest country singers in the history of the genre sang to them in her angelic voice, just to win a bet.

By the time the song was over, AnnieLee’s eyes were stinging and Jack was clearing his throat as if something was stuck in it.

“You win,” Ethan said.

Ruthanna looked triumphant. “Damn straight I do. Cough up the cash.”

Ethan handed her two fives as Billy, who’d been standing as still and awestruck as everyone else, brought over the food and drinks. Everyone pounced on the French fries, including Ruthanna. Jack put barbecue sauce on his pile, which Ruthanna told him was disgusting, and then the two of them got into a good-natured and obviously old argument about who had weirder taste in food, considering that Ruthanna thought hot sauce was acceptable on virtually anything.

“I once saw her put it on a salad!” Jack exclaimed to the room.

AnnieLee, listening in amusement, took a sip of her martini and then spluttered a little.

“What do you think of it?” Jack asked.

She grimaced. “It’s sort of like what I’d imagine nail polish remover would taste like.”