Page 2 of Freeing the Wild
“You can take him into the large pen,” Dusty finally says as he looks me over one more time.“He’s due a jaunt anyway, and I’ll work with him after.You sure you ain’t bullshitting me about knowing your way around a horse?”
I shake my head and smile up at him through my lashes as I wrap my pinky around his.
“Promise,” I whisper, convincing myself as much as I’m trying to convince him.
He flashes me a lopsided grin.He’s actually kind of cute in a wholesome sort of way, though I think he may be even younger than my twenty-four years.
“Mmmkay,” he agrees as I shake his pinky finger with my own to seal the deal before letting him go and saddle Outlaw.
While he works, I make my way out of the barn to the side of the large corral just beyond.I pull my phone and my mini tripod out of my bag to get myself set up.
The truth is, I hate recording these things.I also hate wearing pretentious clothing that costs as much as the average family’s mortgage.Writing music—that’s what I’m good at.That’s what I want to do.It’s the one thing that keeps me connected to my best friend in the whole world: my dad.He bought me my first guitar when I was eight years old.A Baby Taylor.I can still see him now, working in our garage with the door all the way open on his old ’77 Thunderbird, while I sat in the driveway in a beat-up lawn chair learning chords.There are times those memorieswake me up, and the dream is so vivid I can almost feel the sun on my back and smell the motor oil.
My dad and I did everything together.Until, one day, he didn’t come home.His massive heart attack was completely unexpected.After, I remember being jealous of my friends at school who still had their dads.I was so angry at the world for taking him from me.That’s when I started to write—about my pain, love, loss.It became the only way I could cope.Throughout the next few years, as my mom fell apart and her dependence on alcohol grew, music became a lifeline for me and Ivy, a way to disappear into a different world together.Ivy grew up and turned her attention to new hobbies, training horses mainly.But music never left me.It runs through my veins.
I never thought I would be doing what I do now, and I’m grateful singing comes naturally to me, but standing on a stage while thousands of people record me on their cell phones does not.Writing and watching someone else knock my lyrics out of the park?Nowthatis my dream come true.I know I’ll get there.But for now, I just need to grin and bear the performing side and keep my social media presence strong.
I turn my attention back to the task at hand, and set my tripod up on the edge of the sturdy wooden fence for the best natural light.Just as I do, my phone lights up with a text.
DAX
Don’t forget to remind your followers you’ll be at the Lexington Music Fest this weekend.
I breathe out a small sigh and swipe my manager’s message away so I can focus.My plan is to record a short, picturesque video of myself riding toward the camera with one of my songs playing over the top.“To feed the masses,” as Dax would say.To keep my name in the spotlight.My profile has risen over the last year, particularly after playing with Red Dirt Roots—one of the hottest bands in the underground country music scene—this summer.Their music isn’t mainstream country and that’s what I love about them.It’s the kind of country that sinks into your bones, the kind that is played from the heart.Mykind of country.
I hum a new melody I haven’t been able to get out of my head for days as I take in my surroundings one more time, making sure everything is in order to record.Today, my dues involve climbing up onto this big old dark horse and acting like I was born on his back, all in the name of likes and shares.
I quickly check the other texts that have popped up since I last looked at my phone.There are three more from my manager.Not that I’m surprised.Dax O’Brien has always been high-strung.He’s made a name for himself in this industry, which means I listen to him—and his last-minute, harebrained ideas—most of the time.
DAX
And give them a show of the stunning countryside.Ride a horse or rock on a covered porch with some lemonade.Something like that.
Stunning?Check.I look around as I wait for Dusty and take in a deep breath of mountain air.Oak trees sway in the breeze, the vibrant green land and rolling hills are never-ending, and the entire countryside feels alive and flourishing even though it’s early fall.Aside from the buzz of insects in the air, the only sounds to be heard come from a ranch hand turning out a few horses in the paddock to my left.Silver Pines, and Sugarland Mountain just beyond, is perfect for the aesthetic I’m going for:down home, country, authentic bluegrass vibes.Just perfect for the media dubbed “Princess of Bluegrass.”If only the princess didn’t hate being called that.
DAX
It’s been five days since you posted to your socials, so the sooner the better, Cassie.If you aren’t visible, you’re forgettable.
And don’t forget you have to meet Darcy tonight.
Right.Darcy is my stand-in bassist for the Lexington shows because my usual bassist, Josh, just went to rehab a week ago.I haven’t been able to get him out of my head.I know firsthand what addiction does to a person.
DAX
Darcy is excellent.He just wants to go over the set list.Apparently, there’s a pub in town near where you’re staying.It’s called the Horse and Barrel.I passed along your cell number so he can set up a time with you.
I quickly type to appease him.
Yes, Dad, I’m on top of it.
DAX
There you are.Finally.Which part?
I shake my head.So impatient.
All of it.
