The bartender gave them a mysterious look. “Everyone around here thought she was dead,” he finally offered. “But meeting you two now, it does my heart good. It means she made it out.”
21
July 1980: Nashville, Tennessee
Two nights after Stella’s dinner with that lonely yet genuine and honest German woman, Greta Vanberg, Stella was at Boo’s Country Western Bar with Sally, preparing for a big show. Stella had just put on her lipstick and popped her lips when Billy swept into the back room, grinning madly. Stella hurried over to him. She hadn’t known he was coming back from Los Angeles tonight. He picked her up by the waist and called out, “Darling! You’re number one!”
Stella shrieked. “Number one?”
But it was true. Billy showed them the newspaper, which listed their song “Mountain Dreams” as number one on the charts. This was unheard of for a country song like theirs. It was unheard of for two little nobodies from a mountain town. Sally was soon there, weeping with joy, and Stella and Sally held one another and tried to calm their hearts down before their show.
That night, Sally and Stella sang their hearts out. They had the audience going wild. At the center of the dance floor, Stella could see Greta Vanberg, dancing on her own, her arms in theair. Stella wondered if she was ever going to go back to Martha’s Vineyard. Maybe country music had hypnotized her too much, and she couldn’t find a way out of Tennessee again.
Music had that power over Stella, too. It had led her here, to this wonderful life.
When the set was over, Stella leaped off stage and into Billy’s arms. By now, she was three months pregnant, but he still didn’t sense a change. She knew they were at the tail end of this lie, and it would soon reveal itself. (And then, what would happen? How would they deal with it? Would he leave her?) But she pressed a kiss on his lips and told him how much she loved him. She told him that she couldn’t imagine life without him.
He said, “You’re number one, baby.” And they kissed again.
When Billy ran off to get himself something to drink, Greta Vanberg caught her eye. She was sitting alone with a glass of white wine, smiling serenely. Stella went over to say hello, and Greta gripped her hands and said, “You were stunning tonight, darling.” But there was something deep within her gaze that gave Stella pause. “That is the man you love?” she asked, bowing her head at Billy, who was in conversation with another record producer.
“I love him,” Stella said wistfully. “I’ve never loved anyone like this before.”
Greta was quiet for a long time. Stella thought she was surely thinking of her own lost love, Hans Vanberg, who’d died in the war. That story hadn’t been far from Stella’s mind since she’d heard it. But nearly a full minute later, Greta said, “I do not know if you can trust him.”
Stella’s ears rang. “I beg your pardon?”
Greta opened her lips to explain, although Stella wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear. Stella had never had a mother who cared about her. Of course, she’d never had a mother who wanted to give her advice. But now that Greta wanted to giveher this (entirely unsolicited) advice, Stella wasn’t sure she ever wanted to receive it. What made Greta so sure that Billy wasn’t trustworthy? She was a lonely, senile older woman.
Stella fixed her face, preparing to say goodbye to Greta forever. She couldn’t honor whatever this budding relationship demanded of her. Greta could go back where she came from and leave Stella and her sister to their fame.
And then, everything changed.
The door to Boo’s Country Western Bar burst open, and in came two mountain men: Stella’s father and her long-lost husband, Harvey. Stella was immediately so petrified that all she could do was duck back through the crowd, grab Sally, and drag her into the back room. As they went, they could hear their father barking questions at everyone, demanding to know “Where those McGee sisters ran off to.” His drawl was terrifying. It yanked her back through time. It reminded her that they hadn’t run far enough.
Why had she thought they would ever be safe?
“Why are they here? Why are they here?” Sally gasped, throwing herself on the sofa and shaking.
There were screams from the audience. They heard their father barking orders. All the blood drained from Sally’s face. Stella knew that she looked just as afraid as her sister. But she had to act stronger. She was the oldest, and she’d saved Sally. She couldn’t let anything happen to her.
And then, they heard Harvey and their father calling out, “Heidi? Carrie? Come out, come out, wherever you are. Heidi! Carrie! McGee Gals! That’s what they’re calling themselves.”
Stella and Sally hadn’t heard their “real” names in years. It terrified Stella to the bone.
“We need to get out of here,” Stella said. She thought of the money she’d hidden in the safe in their house. She wanted to get home, take the money, and run. Maybe they could start oversomewhere. Oh, but what about Billy? What about the baby? She began to weep.
And then, there was an awful howl. Sally couldn’t take it anymore. She burst through the door and back toward the dance floor. Stella followed after her, terrified of what they were walking into. “Sally! Come back!” But Sally wasn’t listening anymore.
The first thing Stella saw was Billy Long on the ground. Blood poured from his nose, and he was trying to stagger back to his feet. Harvey stood above him, gasping, his fist raised. This can’t be happening, Stella cried. She dropped down beside Billy and tried to mop up his face.
“Billy,” she whispered. “Billy, let’s get out of here. Let’s…”
“Heidi! Well, look at you!” Harvey said. “I’ve been looking all over for you, darling! When you didn’t come home for supper a few years back, I got a little worried. But don’t worry. I found you.”
Stella tried to meet Billy’s gaze, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“Stella? What is going on?” Billy demanded.
