Chapter Three

The next morning Cassidy awoke feeling simultaneously rested and troubled. At first, she didn't know where she was. Then, feeling the softness of the big white bed beneath her, she buried into the buttery soft sheets, reveling in the peace and safety of her surroundings. It only lasted a moment before the previous day leapt into her mind and a tsunami of rage, fear and humiliation swept through her. She lay rigid for several minutes, before the plan she'd cobbled together last night returned and a new sense of confidence propelled her up and out of bed.

Freshly showered, her hair smooth and fragrant, clean - if slightly crumpled - clothes on, she ventured out of her bedroom into the wide hall outside her door. She'd known her sister was seriously rich, but it was a whole other thing to experience it directly. Glimpsing the house as she'd walked the long drive yesterday had just about given her a heart attack. Not only was it massive, but it was the strangest house she'd ever seen - more glass than walls, glowing in the afternoon sunlight, held together with slabs of polished concrete.

From the glassed in hall she could see out over the big sparkling swimming pool, to the green fields and vineyard beyond. Holy shit, was that - yes - horses grazed about a mile from the house. Savannah had horses too? Of course she did. Cassidy located the stairs and found her way to the ground floor.

For the first twelve years of her life, Cassidy had lived in a cabin just behind a trailer park. They'd had no heating or cooling and no indoor plumbing. Sometimes there was food and sometimes there was not. It all depended on Randy. Randy was her dad, but Cassidy had long ceased to call him that. Some weeks he worked, some weeks he disappeared, returning angry and defensive, and if there was food at all, it was because her mother had managed to figure things out around him. Her mother was sometimes banned from employment at all - her place was at home to be a wife and mother - and sometimes berated for not working hard enough to bring in cash. Cassidy, on the other hand, had secretly gone to work at age eleven, skipping a day of school each week to wash dishes and spirit the handful of cash to her mother so they could eat.

Then, one day, when Cassidy was not quite in her teens, Savannah had swooped in, plainly dressed but still looking somehow expensive. She'd been beautiful, kind, effortlessly cool, a successful country singer, with money and fame. After years of hearing of her sister only as a cautionary tale, Cassidy had been completely star struck. Seemingly within moments, Savannah had them installed in a real house two neighborhoods over. There'd been two whole stories, a big green lawn, a flower garden out the front and Cassidy had her own bedroom, neat and clean and as large as the entire cabin had been. She'd started a new school, with new clothes and made new friends; food stayed on the table and the lights stayed on. For a time, things were good. She couldn't wait to see Savannah again, to ask her advice about life, go and see her perform on a big stage, visit her in her fancy house… but Savannah had never once returned.

Then the bad times had hit and Cassidy began to finally see the wreckage Savannah had truly wrought upon their lives.

It was hard not to feel bitter as she slid the huge glass door aside to slip out into the already warm morning air and see the sparkling pool and immaculate grounds up close. Savannah had certainly spared no expense on herself, that was for sure.

The grass was soft and velvety under her bare feet and she padded past the pool and over the lawns until she found the meandering path that led through the fields. She heard a horse whinny and picked up her pace until she was leaning on her arms on the wooden fence rail, a beautiful chestnut gelding raising his head to look at her. She held out her hand and he leisurely paced toward her, his soft nose whiffling around her, clearly looking for treats.

She produced the apple she'd stolen from the kitchen on her way through, and he happily demolished it with a noisy, juicy crunch before letting her pat his warm neck and scratch his face.

"Finally making a friend, huh?"

Cassidy looked up at the wry voice and saw Lane had materialized in the sunlight. They, she told herself, scrunching her nose. They had clearly been on an early morning run, a sheen of exertion lighting up their tanned skin, their gray muscle t-shirt sticking slightly to their chest. She'd been dismissive of their identity yesterday and part of her couldn't help but try to examine them for a definitive masculine or feminine feature that would allow her to put them in a neat box she understood. Overall, Lane seemed mostly masculine from their flat, sculpted looking chest and firm musculature, but there was femininity too, in their still slender body shape, height, and the smoothness to their features. She couldn't help agreeing with Lane's assessment: they didn't really seem like a boy, nor remotely like a girl.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, her hand still on the horse's warm neck. "I was rude to you yesterday." She found herself wanting to explain that she hadn't been herself, that she wasn't generally a rude person, that she hadn't, and maybe still didn't understand. But the words all stuck in her throat.

Lane drifted closer. Their eyes were a warm caramel brown, and while their features were smooth, their jaw was strong and square with the faintest hint of stubble. Cassidy could smell their light clean sweat, and to her surprise, she kind of liked it.

"You were a real dick," they agreed lightly. "Not that it gives you the excuse, but I figure you were having a bad day?" They looked her in the eye and Cassidy turned back toward her horse buddy, who was losing interest in her affection now she no longer was producing treats.

"Not the greatest," she mumbled, turning away from the fence. She started on the path back to the house and to her surprise, Lane fell into pace alongside her. "You're a runner?" she asked to change the topic. She sensed Lane side-eye her, but they didn't push.

"Kinda," they responded. "I have all this physical energy these days, and I just gotta find ways to let it all out or I get antsy."

"Not exactly a miserable place to run." She gestured reluctantly at the gorgeous serene grounds.

"It's beautiful," Lane agreed. "Though too damn hot. Personally, I like it better when we make it to Vermont for the winter. The house there is in the woods - it's like we're the only people on the damn planet."

"Savannah has more than one house like this?" Cassidy felt nauseated.

"She has like, five." Lane laughed. "One is in Portugal for when we tour Europe, and there's a townhouse in New York and a place in LA - in Malibu - that she bought when she met Brynn. Then there's a stack of random apartments, mostly for her employees and entourage to stay in. She's like, a total mogul," they said fondly.

"God, it makes me sick," Cassidy whispered. "Who the hell needs that many houses? What is wrong with her?"

"I mean, it's pretty low-key honestly considering the amount of money she has." Lane shrugged. They caught the look on Cassidy's face. "She gives huge amounts to charity too, you know. There's like a whole foundation that's just devoted to giving her cash away and generating more cash for good causes."

"I know, she's a saint, I get it."

"You've really got a bee in your bonnet about her, don't you?" they said mildly.

"You would too, if she was your sister."

"Because she's rich and famous and you're not?" Lane sounded curious.

"I'm not that petty." She rolled her eyes. "It's because she's a fake. She acts like she's this sweet angel with her concern and her charities, and her Instagram image, all pure and loving…"

"And you think she's putting that on? Have you literally not seen her with her wife and kid?"

"Ugh." Cassidy winced. "And of course, on top of that now she's all cool and edgy and married to a woman. Give me a break."

"Are you for real?" Lane stopped still. "You think she's deciding to be queer for popularity? In Tennessee? Are you literally on drugs right now?"

"Oh, I grew up poor and rural, so I'm a crackhead now?"

"Oh, come on, Cassidy." Lane looked actually angry. "You can't possibly be as na?ve as you're making out to be. What are you, like eighteen, nineteen? You should know more about the world than that."

"I'm twenty-four!" she practically shouted. "At least, I will be in August. And it's not being na?ve, it's being realistic. She's not a lesbian, she's bisexual," she pointed out. "She could have picked being with a man and she didn't. It's super convenient, don't you think, that just after she abandoned country music for the mainstream, she started living this totally woke life?"

The look Lane gave her made her stomach clench. For a minute, it looked like they were about to storm off without a word, but they took a deep breath in and let it out in a steady stream.

"You know what I hope for you?" Their voice was low and their eyes steady. "I hope you find a way to open your eyes. I hope you decide to learn something for your damn self, instead of swallowing that poisonous garbage for the rest of your life. And I hope you get to know your sister. Because you are missing out."

Lane walked away.

Cassidy tried to shake the tension from her shoulders as she continued back towards the house, Lane already fifteen feet ahead. She watched as they turned left at the pool and entered the guesthouse. She'd wondered if anyone lived there, secretly having had her eye on it for herself.

So Lane was also prone to sanctimonious lectures, that was just great. Clearly they were under Savannah's spell, and of course, on her very extensive payroll. She was irritated to find that Lane's words had gotten under her skin. She'd never experienced conflict where someone didn't just shout at her and it had thrown her. And that line about learning for herself? That was incredibly condescending. She'd done nothing but learn for herself, thank you very much.

Was everyone here planning on underestimating her forever? She'd soon take care of that.

It was already warm enough that Savannah felt wilted when she'd ventured outdoors to eat breakfast with Tucker. Brynn was still in the gym and seeing Lane duck into the guesthouse after their morning run made Savannah green with jealousy. She'd exercised as long as she could into her pregnancy, but now the giant bump she was sporting, combined with the intense heat outdoors, meant a swim was the only movement she could make. It wasn't remotely the same as a good long run though, and she felt the impact on her mental state, missing the flex of her legs and the feeling of escaping into the wild. As soon as this baby was out, they'd go on long walks back in nature together and she'd start to feel properly herself again.

Speaking of her mental state…Cassidy appeared on the lawn and approached the table on the patio, looking determined. She looked fresher, her long hair in an elaborate braid, her gray dress neat.

"Good morning," Savannah greeted her sister cautiously, hoping they'd have a fresh start.

"Morning," she replied, her tone even. So far, so good. "I met one of your many horses." She took a seat across from them.

"Which one?" Tucker piped up.

"The chestnut gelding in the first field."

"Spiderpig Superstar!" he exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air. Cassidy blinked, midway through pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

"Or Jasper, as I call him," Savannah added with a smile. "He's a lovely boy. Do you ride?"

"A little," she said, adding milk and picking up her spoon. "Just my friend's horses, that is." Savannah wasn't sure if there was a complaint in there somewhere, but she decided she was reading into it.

"You're welcome to ride him," she offered. "Lane might take you. I'd offer to go myself, but…" she gestured ruefully down at the swell of her belly. "And Brynn is not a horse person."

"I have a functioning brain, that's why." Her wife slid into a seat next to her, freshly showered and looking good enough to eat. "I'm capable of assessing risk, and climbing on a thousand pound beast with sharp rocks for feet is not for sensible people."

"But surfing in deep ocean where man-eating sharks live passes your rigorous risk assessment?" Savannah raised her eyebrows.

Brynn scoffed, but reached down to squeeze her knee. She knew how much Savannah fretted when she surfed any more than twenty feet from the shore. Savannah could frolic in the waves with the best of them, but the idea of empty ocean beneath her feet terrified her. Brynn, however, was a Californian beach babe through and through. Personally, Savannah preferred her safe and sound in landlocked Tennessee.

"Pfft, that's nothing. Those horses have far worse teeth." Brynn widened her eyes in horror.

"You're ridiculous," she informed her wife fondly. Two years together and Brynn was still adamantly not a country girl, despite their surroundings.

"Your face is ridiculous." Brynn smirked like a five-year-old and Tucker - an actual five-year-old - giggled and high-fived her. She stole a kiss to revoke the tease and Savannah's body instantly reminded her that yesterday they'd been interrupted on their way to an afternoon quickie, then she'd been too thrown by her sister's arrival to be in the mood for anything more than a freaked out debrief when they'd finally made it to bed. She tried to calculate exactly how soon she could put that teasing mouth to good use.

"You're such a great role model for our child," she attempted to grouse, but it came out like a flirt. Brynn batted her eyelashes innocently at her, which - ridiculously - only made her want her more.

Cassidy was looking quizzically from one to the other, and Savannah coughed and straightened in her chair.

"Can I be excused?" begged Tucker, looking over to where Lane was coming out of their door to start the day.

"Let Lane have a minute to themself, kid," Brynn suggested. Tucker adored his nanny and while Savannah knew it was mutual, she always worried about burning Lane out. Lane looked up and waved and then gestured at Tucker to race them. Tucker leapt out of his chair and hurtled his small frame across the lawn, his head start useless as Lane easily lapped him, then pretended to fall just before the fence line.

She glanced at Cassidy, who was watching the action curiously. She'd dreamed of getting to share her son with her sister, but she'd never thought it would actually happen. She wasn't sure this was exactly how it should feel, though.

"Are you up for a conversation this morning?" she said gently, and her sister's wary gaze jerked back to her. Cassidy's spine straightened.

"Actually, yes, I am," she said firmly.

"Oh, that's great," Savannah said, trying to hide her surprise.

"I'd like your help," Cassidy announced, clearly planning to take the lead in the discussion. "I've been thinking about my options and I'd like you to help set me up in the music industry."

Savannah blinked.

"I see," she said slowly. "In what capacity?"

"I'd like to be a country singer," she said confidently, and Savannah's heart sank. She felt Brynn shift beside her.

"Is that why you're here? You think I can fast track you to fame?"

"Sure." Cassidy shrugged. "I'm talented, but I'm also your sister. That should be worth something." For once, said her face.

"Cassidy." Savannah took a breath, steadying herself. "You can't just decide to be a country singer-"

"Why not? You did."

"Yes," she agreed. "And I worked at it, learned everything I could, tried and failed and tried some more. And then I got lucky…exceptionally lucky."

"Lucky for me, I don't have to go down that road. Savannah Grace's sister. That'll open every door I need." Her nonchalant demeanor made Savannah's hands itch.

"Why do you want this?" she asked helplessly.

"Why do you think?" Her sister's eyes flashed angrily. "Look around." She gestured at the house and the surrounding estate. "I want what you've got. Fame, money, more fame, more money." She threw up her hands. "Then I won't be reliant on you."

Savannah's shaky hold on her own equilibrium finally cracked.

"That's not what being an artist is about! You make music because you love music, because you have to, because your soul dies if you don't! It's not some easy track to get rich!"

"You don't even know if I love music!" cried Cassidy. "You don't know anything about me!"

"You literally just told me you just want fame and money." She gritted her teeth. "For god's sake, Cassidy. Go to college! It's not too late. I will pay to send you wherever you want, to study whatever you want. You can do anything you like after that."

"Of course you'd jump at the opportunity to send me away." Cassidy glared. "I don't want to go to college; I want to be a country singer. Stop being so damn selfish and help me."

"Do you know how ridiculous you sound?" Savannah despaired. "I'm not going to try to push you into the limelight so you can be some kind of nepo-baby. That's not how it should work."

"It is how it works!"

"Well it's not how I work!" Her voice had gotten loud. Cassidy stood up, her body rigid with anger, her eyes hot with tears.

"Honestly Savannah - fuck y-"

"Hold up, Jamie-Lynn Spears," Brynn interrupted. "Keep your shit together. You want this so bad, you can come to the studio with me next week. Learn how it's done."

Both Savannah and Cassidy froze. Savannah looked at her wife in absolute disbelief. Cassidy looked straight up mystified. Savannah wasn't sure if Cassidy had even remembered that Brynn was an artist in her own right.

"Okay," she said stiffly. "I will." She paused, as if not sure where to turn next. "Thank you," she added as an afterthought and stalked off into the house without a backward glance for her sister.

"What in the world are you thinking?" Savannah demanded, staring at her wife. Brynn shrugged and picked up her toast.

"Pfft," she said again. "It'll be fun. And perhaps little sis will learn a thing or two about the glamorous life of a country artist."

Savannah contemplated that for a moment. She picked up a sweating glass of iced water and pressed it to her brow.

"Did you literally refer to me as Britney just now?"

"Oh, you wish I did."