Restless Heart, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
WYNONNA JUDD
Dear Friends,
I was blessed when I fell into music as a young woman. Before then I’d been independent and unconventional, feeling out of step with the world around me. When I found music, I knew I’d found the place where I belonged. But being famous at eighteen isn’t easy, and the chaos of fame can be overwhelming. My life has played on a stage for everyone to see: good and bad, every choice lit with a spotlight.
Restless Heart is the story of another woman called to music at a young age. Destiny Hart discovers her path on a dare—a prank draws her to sing before an audience for the first time, and in that moment, Destiny’s life is altered. Success is elusive, and years in Nashville, isolated from her family and friends, have taken a toll on Destiny. And that’s when Seth walks back into her life. The boy next door, Seth has always been Destiny’s friend, but reuniting as adults brings the two of them closer than ever before . . . close enough that now Destiny has to choose: the man who makes her heart sing or the singing career that makes her feel alive.
I wanted to tell a story of a young woman with her life unfolding before her, facing incredible challenges and incredible opportunities, and making good decisions. A story of dreams and love, of family and friendships, of reaching for the stars and keeping your feet on the ground.
Enjoy!
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First published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, February 2011
Copyright © Wynonna Judd, 2011
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA: Judd, Wynonna, 1964-
Restless heart/Wynonna Judd with LuAnn McLane. p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-18817-0
1. Women country musicians—Fiction. 2. Kentucky—Fiction.
I. McLane, LuAnn. II. Title.
PS3610.U35R47 2011
813’.6-dc22 2010036620
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank Kara Welsh and NAL for publishing another one of my projects. Laura Cifelli for her fantastic editing work. Mel Berger, my WME literary agent, for always making the right things happen, and LuAnn McLane for her immense help in creating such an interesting, talented, driven, and compassionate character—Destiny Hart.
PROLOGUE
Wilmot, Kentucky
“All right, folks, let’s give Danny-Kirk Nelson a big ol’ round of applause!”
Gamely clapping along with the rest of the audience for yet another singing cowboy, Destiny Hart hoped poor Danny-Kirk had a decent day job, because it didn’t seem likely he’d be giving it up for country stardom anytime soon.
What did I do to deserve this torture on a beautiful summer night? she wondered, watching Danny-Kirk keep right on taking bows even after the polite applause had trickled away.
I’m too honest—that’s my problem.
She’d had a feeling she should have lied when her friend Cooper Sparks popped over earlier to ask whether she had any plans tonight.
“Why do you want to know?” she’d asked warily, noting the gleam in his eye and wondering whether he might be up to some kind of mischief, as was often the case.
With a shrug—and a hurt expression—he’d replied, “I thought you might want to hang out with me and Annie and Seth, but if you’re busy . . .”
She wasn’t. And so here she was, sitting on a folding lawn chair in a muggy field with her three best friends and a few hundred strangers, slapping mosquitoes beneath the orange glow of the waning sunlight as one wannabe after another took the stage.
“And now for our next contestant in the WKCX Kicks Country Kentucky Idol search . . .”
Leaning toward Annie McPhearson on her left, Destiny whispered, “Please tell me Coop’s not going to make us stay till the bitter end?”
“—is Destiny Hart!”
Destiny Hart . . .
Destiny Hart?
No. No way. Her own name couldn’t have just been announced over the PA system . . .
Or could it?
“Annie—”
“It wasn’t my idea.” Her friend was suddenly awfully busy tugging her strawberry-blond hair—a longtime, telltale nervous habit.
“What wasn’t your idea?”
Annie didn’t answer.
Seth Caldwell, in the chair beside Annie, shook his head, looking concerned. “Don’t do it.”
“Do what?”
“Destiny Hart of Wilmot High School, come on down!” the PA boomed.
She swiveled her head to Cooper, sitting on her right with his long legs sprawled in front of him. He blinked at her with his own attempt at brown-eyed Ashton Kutcher innocence, but the slight twitching of his lips gave him away.
“Oh no, Coop. No. Please say you didn’t.”
“Yeah,” he said cheerfully, “I sure did.”
“What?” Destiny’s usually husky voice rose an octave and she sat up so straight that her lawn chair tilted backward. She teetered for a moment and would have toppled over if Seth hadn’t reached past Annie and grabbed her.
“Destiny Hart, are you in the house?” the DJ persisted, peering out over the crowd with one hand above his eyebrows.
Destiny glared at Cooper. “What makes you think I’m going to get up on that stage?”
“I dare you.” He arched one dark eyebrow and gave her another classic Cooper grin.
Ah, he knew her too well. He’d been daring her—and vice versa—since they were both thirteen and the new kids in school.
She’d been down that road countless times before—making new friends, only to lose them a year later when her father, an air force colonel, was transferred. Finally, though, he’d retired, and Destiny was here to stay; her mother promised that the bonds she made at Wilmot High were going to last awhile—maybe even a lifetime.
So far, she’d been right.
Destiny first met Cooper in the guidance office, waiting for orientation to begin. The secretary was away from her desk, and there was a delicious-looking chocolate bakery cupcake sitting on it.
Catching Destiny eyeing it, Cooper had said, “Dare you to take a bite.”
“Game on,” was her reply.
Licking the sugary icing from her lips, she’d seen the gleam of admiration in his eyes, and knew she’d made her first friend in Wilmot.
She hadn’t backed down when he’d later dared her to cut through the cemetery alone at night; to call their school principal by his first name, Maurice; to try out for the boys’ varsity football team—not that she’d stood a chance in hell of making it—and she wasn’t about to bac
Cooper knew it, and so did she.
“Destiny Hart?” the WKCX DJ boomed.
“She’s right here!” Cooper shot to his feet, pointing at her.
She slapped at his finger. “I’m gonna get you for this.”
“You gotta admit it’s pretty doggone good.” That had come from Annie.
She turned to see her friend grinning at her—no, past her, at the oh-so-pleased-with-himself Cooper. Traitor.
Only Seth had the decency to show some concern.
“Seriously, Destiny,” he said in a low voice, touching her bare arm, “you don’t have to get up there and sing.”
“Thanks, but I’m not going to give Cooper the satisfaction,” she replied and shot Seth a grateful grin, hoping he couldn’t tell that her heart was suddenly beating like crazy—and not just because she’d been summoned to the stage.
It had been four years since she’d been introduced to Seth, both literal and figurative boy next door. Two years older than her, the high school’s star pitcher with a steady stream of girlfriends, he’d treated her like a kid sister from the start.
Now he was at the University of Kentucky on a baseball scholarship, living across the driveway for just another two weeks before he’d have to head back. She knew she wasn’t the only girl in town who was going to miss him like crazy—but she was probably the only one who had no intention of letting him know it.
If she did let on that she had feelings for him and he didn’t share them—she was pretty sure he didn’t—their friendship would never be the same. She’d be a fool to risk it—and Destiny Hart was no fool.
“Break a leg.”
Or was she?
Turning away from Seth, she saw Cooper grinning broadly, waiting for her to take the stage on his dare.
“How ’bout I break your leg?” she shot back.
Her flip-flops slapped the ground as she stood up and squared her shoulders.
Yeah. I’m definitely a fool.
The audience applauded and she began weaving her way on wobbly knees past lawn chairs, blankets, and coolers, heading for the stage.
Hearing a familiar voice shrieking her name from the crowd, she spotted her sister, Grace, who was sitting with her own group of friends. Just fourteen months older than Destiny, Grace—ever the overprotective big sister—wore a look of alarm. Destiny waved as if this were no big deal.
Seriously . . . it really isn’t. It’s not like you’re some Danny-Kirk Nelson who can’t carry a tune.
She’d been raised on bluegrass, gospel, and classic country; music was one of the few things in her childhood that had been consistent. Her mother sang to her and Grace every night, a lovely lilting quality to her voice that carried Destiny through many a rough patch.
She’d been belting out her favorite songs along with the radio since childhood and taught herself how to play the guitar along the way. Gradually, she’d learned to sing in front of others—in the church choir and at barn dances back at Grandma and Grandpappy’s farm.
She knew she had a strong voice, so if she kept her act together the joke might actually be on Cooper . . .
But that was a big if. Singing in front of a polite congregation was very different from an impromptu performance before a huge crowd gathered at the town square mostly to snicker at the lack of talent.
Arriving at the stage, she took a deep, steadying breath. Please don’t let me make a complete fool of myself.
Then she ascended the three steps and smiled at WKCX’s Rex Miller.
“Well, hello there, Destiny Hart.” He bestowed a toothy smile upon her and extended his arm.
“Hello.” Destiny grasped Rex’s hand and gave him a firm handshake just the way her father taught her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Firm grip,” Rex commented, with a knowing wink at the crowd. “But I’m not surprised.” He glanced down at the clipboard in his other hand. “Says here you’re the daughter of retired air force colonel John Hart.”
“Yes, sir, and proud of it,” she replied, generating an enormous roar of approval from the audience.
“As well you should be,” Rex declared with a wave of his hand, milking more applause. “And you’re attending our very own Carrington College in the fall.”
That brought another big cheer from the local audience for the hometown girl; most of the contestants had come from other parts of the Bluegrass state.
“Yes, sir, that’s the plan.”
So far, so good.
She just hoped he wouldn’t ask what she was planning to choose as her major. She’d always thought she’d know by now what she wanted to do with her life, but she still had no clue.
“And it says here that you love to cook, crochet, and ride horses?”
What? Destiny jammed her hands into her jeans pockets and looked over at Cooper, who was doubled over with laughter.
“You could say that,” she answered with a tight smile. Just last week, she’d scorched a pan trying to boil water; her mother’s attempts to teach her to crochet had left the yarn and both their stomachs in knots; and the only horseback ride she had ever taken had been a dare that ended in disaster—thanks, of course, to Cooper.
“And you’re going to sing ‘America the Beautiful.’”
“I am?”
Rex Miller tapped his clipboard with his pen. “Says so right here. Seems appropriate on a warm summer evening so close to the Fourth of July. Don’t you think so, ladies and gentlemen?” His query was answered with cheers and whistles.
“Y-yes,” Destiny stammered, grateful that she knew all of the words.
Oh, she was going to get Cooper Sparks big-time for this one. He had better sleep with one eye open. She looked across the lawn at her friends. Annie had her hand over her mouth and Cooper was laughing so hard that he’d toppled out of his lawn chair. But when her gaze landed on Seth, he gave her two thumbs-up of encouragement.
“Are you ready, Destiny Hart?” Rex was asking.
Not on your life.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered aloud.
“Great name by the way. You even sound like a star.”
A cold bead of sweat rolled down her back, but she swallowed her panic and smiled.
Of course it was going to be fine. Her inner strength had never failed her before, right?
Right. Well, except for that unfortunate horseback incident. Of course, she shouldn’t have jumped the creek, but it had been part of Cooper’s dare . . .
Oh, and there was that time when he challenged her to ride that mechanical bull and she flipped over the horns . . .
A long list of I-dare-you-Destiny played through her brain like a slide show: cliff dive, Polar plunge, bungee jump, worm eating (never again), vine swinging, gate crashing . . . the list was endless.
And now this.
“Destiny, are you sure you’re ready?” Rex asked.
The slide show in her head shut off and Destiny nodded. “Yes, sir.”
A hush fell over the crowd and Destiny began to sing.
ONE
Nashville, Tennessee
Four Years Later
“I have good news and bad news,” Ralph Weston said. “Which do you want first?”
Of all the ridiculous questions Destiny Hart had been asked since she moved to Nashville to try to make it in the country music business—and there were many—that had to be her least favorite.
Leaning her guitar case against the dingy white wall in the employee break room, she pasted on a smile and turned to face her boss.
“Go ahead—hit me with the bad news,” she answered, just as his cell phone beeped.
“Hang on a second.” Ralph flipped open his phone.
Waiting for him to check his text messages, Destiny held her breath, though she could pretty much guess what he was going to tell her.
Shouldn’t you be used to bad news by now? she asked herself wearily. Lately, it was one thing after another, capped off by—
No. Don’t even go there.
