A/N: This is my first attempt at an alternate universe fic and, as such, probably belongs in the "never say never" file. It comes out of wanting to try something more plot-driven and knowing that Rayna and Deacon had such a crucial turning point in their history. Eventually, I couldn't resist asking "What If?" Thanks to Shiny Jewel for valuable feedback and encouragement.

Chapter One

An Invitation

Rayna Jaymes pushed through the door of her swanky apartment building, exhaling with relief as a strong blast of air-conditioning enveloped her. It was hot out, and Friday afternoon rehearsal had been particularly difficult. Rayna stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind her. She furrowed her brow and hunched her shoulders for a moment, stretching her back. Then she sighed and dropped her shoulders, closing her eyes briefly and letting her head fall back before she moved on.

It was time to admit that her new lead guitarist wasn't working out. She needed to make a change. She had just been too tired by the end of today's rehearsal even to raise the idea with Bucky. It could wait until next week, she'd decided. Until she had a little more strength.

Rayna walked through the green-carpeted entryway and entered the plush lobby, deep in thought. Would her strength really return next week? Or anytime soon? On good days, she told herself yes: It was only a matter of a week or two and then she'd be back to normal. On a day like today, however, she wondered if that would ever happen. Exhaustion and sadness had dogged her recently, like strays hoping to be fed. She worried that she'd never shake them.

The twin demons had been with her since she'd gotten her news. Like a dolt, she'd immediately started fantasizing about telling Deacon when he got back from rehab, about the two of them eloping, maybe taking a honeymoon trip to their favorite resort in Mexico. But then Coleman had called to say Deacon had bailed on rehab, declaring that he'd never go back. He was in such a dangerous state when Tandy had driven her out to the lake house that she'd left without even talking to him.

You want him to be the father? Do you have any idea what could happen to you – or to that baby – if he was?

Tandy had scared her, and so had Deacon. But what if he was the father, as she strongly suspected? Tandy seemed to think Rayna had a choice in that matter. But did she?

So it was that Rayna found herself at a crossroads on this hot weekend in late June; in a place she'd never envisioned for herself in a million years. And yes, she was exhausted and sad, but who wouldn't be?

If her father had taught her anything, it was not to indulge her weaknesses. But tonight, she wasn't so sure she could keep them at bay. Not with the conversation that awaited her.

She crossed the lobby, the hush of great expense surrounding her, from the high ceilings to the dark paneling, large windows and modern art on the walls. It didn't need to be stated that noisy families, frivolous youth and the middle class shouldn't bother applying at this address.

Tandy had chosen the building a month earlier, when it became clear that Rayna couldn't return to the lake house. And after her landlord had told her she was no longer welcome at her old apartment. "Too many complaints from the neighbors," he had said, through a thick twang. "They say y'all is always fightin' with that boyfriend who comes and goes aroun' here. Not the nice one, the drunk one who's dangerous; violent. I can't have all that in my place here no more."

And so she'd wound up in a residence fancier than anywhere she'd lived since she'd left Belle Meade as a teenager. At 27, with her career skyrocketing and a lot of rough years behind her, she'd told Tandy she wanted an apartment that was comfortable and secure and quiet. Someplace where she could be alone; sort things out. This place fit the bill, but she quickly found that it was also lonely. Living here reminded her of the isolation she'd felt in the months after her mother's death.

The doorman nodded and smiled as Rayna waved to him. She walked to the row of gold-plated mailboxes off the elevator and turned the key in the slot marked 424, pulling out a stack of bills, an advertising flyer and the latest issues of two country music magazines.

And something else: A simple white postcard that fluttered out of her hand and onto the floor.

She stooped to retrieve it, readjusting the purse strap that slipped from her shoulder, and turned toward the elevator, examining the postcard. What she saw there stopped her in her tracks: His strong, spiky handwriting, in black ink.

"Ray – I hope you can come to this. I miss you so much. Deacon."

Rayna took a deep breath, her heart in her throat. She flipped the card over and read the text, stamped in purple ink on the front:

"The Riverside Center invites you to an open house at its residential drug and alcohol addiction program.1-5 p.m. in the Men's Community Room. Please join us for tours, socializing and refreshments."

The date was written in Deacon's hand: This Sunday. Two days from now. The card had been sent weeks earlier, addressed to her old apartment and then forwarded here. Of course. He didn't know she'd moved.

"Hey. You okay?" The voice in Rayna's ear startled her. A warm pair of hands gripped her elbows from behind, steadying her. "Sorry. It's just - you look like you saw a ghost or something."

Rayna turned to find a sandy-haired young man with green eyes standing close beside her. He was about her height, with a sturdy build, dark eyebrows and a dusting of freckles across his nose similar to her own. He was wearing a green medical scrub top, blue jeans and tennis shoes. He stepped back and released her, stuffing his mail into a Navy blue, battered cloth satchel that was slung over his shoulder.

"Oh," Rayna said, flustered. "I was just reading my mail."

He lowered his eyebrows and nodded solemnly. "Scary. I agree."

Rayna's eyes widened and she shook her head, at a loss.

"The mail. All those bills, right? Enough to scare anyone." He stuck out his right hand, grinning. "Hey. I'm Dave Rattner. I think we're neighbors."

"Oh … right. The bills." Rayna smiled, finally relaxing, and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Dave. I'm Rayna Jaymes, I'm in 424. Just moved in last weekend."

"Okay, I thought I saw you moving in. Had a red-haired lady helping you, right? I'm in 426. Are you going up?" She nodded and the two of them walked to the elevator. He punched the button. "New to Nashville?"

"Me?" Rayna looked at him, incredulous. "No. I've lived here all my life. How about you?"

"I'm from Seattle originally. I've been here almost five years, though. I'm a fellow at Vanderbilt so I don't get much chance to socialize, but I like the city a lot. It's fun; always something going on."

"A fellow. Does that mean a doctor?" she asked, stepping onto the elevator and holding the door for him. She pushed four and the door slid shut behind them.

"Yeah. I'm doing my training in public health. I just can't seem to finish, for the life of me." He laughed at his own predicament and the sound was so light-hearted and happy that Rayna joined him. "What do you do?" he asked.

The bell rang as they reached their floor and he stepped back, allowing her to exit first. She shot him a covert look as they walked down the long, tastefully decorated corridor side-by-side, wondering if he was joking. She concluded that he wasn't. He had absolutely no idea who she was. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

"Oh, I write some music. Do some singing around town, too."

"Really? I love music. What part do you sing?"

Now it was Rayna's turn to laugh. "Well, soprano, but I don't do choral singing. It's country music. Ballads, mostly, but some upbeat stuff too."

"Ah, okay. I should have guessed. I'm always telling Kim you can't walk a block in Nashville without running into a country singer. Sorry if I should recognize you or something; I can't say I'm much of a country music fan. Strictly classical for me."

"Got it," Rayna said, stopping at a door with a brass-plated 424 on the front. "Nice meeting you - and thanks for rescuing me down there." She held up her mail and smiled at him. "From the bills, I mean."

"Absolutely," he said, smiling back, and Rayna saw that he had dimples. "Call on me any time you need me. I'm at the hospital at all hours, so you never know when you'll find me home, but you can always bang on my door and see if you can raise me." He turned to continue along the hall and Rayna stood watching until he got to the next door down and pulled a key ring from the pocket of his jeans.

"You know, you look pretty young to be a doctor. How old are you?" she asked.

"I'm 24. One of those wonder kids, I guess. Skipped a bunch of grades, graduated high school early, that whole thing."

Rayna snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "Doogie Howser, M.D. – right?"

"Ouch," he said, looking pained and dropping his chin to his chest. "Please don't go there."

She smiled again. "Sorry. That's the last time you'll hear that from me, I promise."

"Thanks. I'm going to hold you to that, Rayna Jaymes. Have a good night."

Rayna opened her door and walked into her apartment, still smiling. Handsome, funny and a doctor. So where was the girlfriend? He had mentioned something about a Kim; that must be her.

Dave was the first friendly person she'd met in the building, and just five minutes with him had lightened her mood. Maybe this move wasn't such a disaster after all. And the fact that he didn't have a clue about what she did was comforting, too. There had been too many questions at her old apartment. Too many nosy neighbors, masking their gruesome gossip with concern for her well-being. Not to mention the prying reporters and pushy photographers who showed up later. Anonymity suited her just fine right about now.

Rayna tossed her purse onto the couch, and set her mail on the coffee table. The new living room furniture, purchased to replace the set Deacon had trashed in a drunken fury, was top quality; conservative and elegant, reflecting her sister's taste more closely than her own. Rayna had no cause to complain, however. Tandy had swooped in since she'd learned about the baby and gone to great lengths to help Rayna pick up the pieces of her life.

The baby. It didn't seem real.

Tandy had even arranged tonight's meeting with Teddy. Rayna glanced at the clock and went into the bedroom to take her shoes and jewelry off, then walked out to the kitchen. If she had a choice tonight, she would put on her pajamas and get into bed with a bowl of ice cream and the TV remote. But Teddy was due here in less than an hour.

Rayna badly needed a glass of wine to bolster her courage. Instead, she popped open a Diet Coke, caffeine-free, and heated up some leftovers, sitting at the kitchen table to eat. She went over and over the words she had memorized, hoping he would understand.

As she ate, she dipped mindlessly into the candy dish in front of her and picked up a wide silver band, set with a circlet of small diamonds. She slipped it onto her left ring finger and looked at it, remembering the moment that he did not.

I love you, Ray. I love you more than anything else in the whole world.

Deacon …

Let's do this, baby, please. Marry me.

Yes. I will. You make me so happy.

I love you so much.

I love you, too. I don't want us to ever be apart again.

She had thrown it back at him the next morning as he stumbled off the couch, hung over. But he had insisted she keep it, even as she refused to accept his desperate apologies. Finally, he turned sullen and stalked out, telling her she could throw the damn thing away for all he cared.

But Rayna had kept it. And he'd gone to a local rehab clinic two days later, raising her hopes yet again. But before her signature on the payment check was dry, he had checked out. Coleman had dragged him back - kicking and screaming - a month ago. But who knew how long it would last this time? His track record was not good.

She walked out to the living room, the ring still on her finger, and fished the postcard out of the pile of mail, her heart predictably flip-flopping again at the sight of his familiar handwriting.

"I miss you so much." God damn it. That makes two of us, Deacon. She took a deep breath and went back into her bedroom, opening her jewelry case and slipping both the ring and the postcard inside.

Sunday. She didn't have a gig that day. And he was there, trying again, like he always did. Maybe she would go and see him. But first, she had to get through tonight.

"I guess Tandy told you the news?" Rayna asked, gazing out her living room window into the dark, the lights of Nashville sparkling up at her. Her back was turned to him.

"Yes. She told me about the baby," Teddy murmured, walking over and slipping his arms around her waist. He smiled broadly, face buried in her neck, kissing the spot below her earlobe and tightening his arms around her. He was glad he'd taken the time to shave after work. A smooth cheek for a special night.

"I'm so happy, Rayna, I really am. But why didn't you tell me yourself, honey? You weren't worried I'd be unhappy, were you? Because I'm not. I'm thrilled."

He turned her gently in his arms and she looked up into his eyes and inhaled deeply. She looked frightened, which confused him. Had something gone wrong with the pregnancy?

"Rayna?"

"Uh, well, there's … something I need to tell you."

Teddy waited, still holding her close, his brow furrowed with worry. "Rayna, there's nothing wrong with our baby, is there?"

She cringed at his words. "No. Not that I know of. I mean, it's still so early." She pulled away from his embrace, turning her back on him once again.

Something was wrong. Something big. Suddenly, Teddy's heart was thumping in his chest. "Rayna – what is it, honey? You can tell me. Please."

"It's just …. Well, I'm not exactly sure who the father is."

The silence hung thick in her apartment. Her flowery apology speech had been completely forgotten in favor of just blurting out the truth. The two of them were surrounded by good furniture and classy décor, contemplating something messy and ugly and hurtful. The minutes seemed to tick by forever as Teddy struggled to grasp what she had just said.

After what felt like a long while, Rayna turned, a guarded look on her face. She was scared he would blow up at her, but she thought yelling might be preferable to this: Teddy, just staring at her, his face a mask of dread as the reality dawned over him.

"Teddy. I'm so, so sorry," she began, but he couldn't listen anymore. Couldn't look at her. He didn't need explanations; he just had to get away. He started for the apartment door, than stopped, turning on his heel and walking out of the living room and down the hall toward her bedroom.

Rayna heard the hallway bathroom door open and then shut quietly behind him. That was Teddy: So unlike Deacon. No histrionics, no screaming, no destruction. Just icy, controlled fury and an ability to shut down emotionally that was so cold and calculated it left Rayna shivering. Deacon could be terrifying, all raw emotion and brute force. But the calm contempt that Teddy could turn on and off like a switch was almost worse, somehow.

She didn't move a muscle, she just stood, waiting for him to return. After less than five minutes, Teddy strode back into the living room, walked up to her and took her hands in his own.

"Rayna, let's get married," he said, looking deep into her eyes.

Rayna let out an exclamation of disbelief and stared back at him, her eyes wide. "Teddy, maybe you didn't understand me. What I'm saying is - I'm not sure this is your baby. In fact, I'm pretty sure that it's not."

"Deacon …"

She saw the hatred in his eyes, noticed the way his lips curled as he said the name, as if he couldn't spit it out of his mouth fast enough. "Yeah," she whispered. "It's probably his."

"How long have you and he been-"

"No. Oh, god no, Teddy. I wasn't seeing him behind your back, I swear. It was just one time, a couple months ago. He got back from rehab and he asked me to come out to his house – our old house, the one by the lake." She looked up at him, determined to be honest. "And, well, I missed him. He said he had something important to tell me. So I went. And, then …"

Rayna's voice trailed off and she looked down, ashamed. Teddy didn't need to hear any more. He understood perfectly. This beautiful, talented woman - this woman he adored - had one flaw. One weakness: Her low-life, drunk, ex-boyfriend. A man who was only too happy to exploit that weakness every chance he got, the bastard. The sick, lying bastard.

And now, predictably, Deacon Claybourne was gone again, just when Rayna needed him. And Rayna had turned to Teddy for help and protection. Teddy was used to rescuing her from all kinds of trouble, particularly where it concerned Deacon, and he relished the role.

As the reality of her betrayal had dawned on him a few minutes earlier, Teddy had nearly walked out, done with Rayna for good. He'd been sure that this was the final straw, the last time he'd let her use him.

But he was a banker, and he'd been trained not to act from his feelings, but to stop and think, shoving emotion aside. And, standing in her bathroom, splashing water on his face, two things had become crystal clear: He wanted Rayna, above all else. And this might be his best chance ever of getting her to commit to him.

Teddy inhaled deeply and took Rayna's face between his hands, tilting her chin up so he could look down into her eyes. "You know what? I don't care, Rayna. I don't want to know how it happened. It doesn't really matter, anyway," he started.

But Rayna stopped him. "Doesn't really matter? Teddy, what are you saying?"

"Rayna, honey, what I'm saying is this: This baby is yours, and I love you, and that's all that counts. I want you to be my wife. We're so good together. I want us to have a family. I'll love this baby, I swear to you. I'll be a father to it, whether it's biologically my child or not. And Deacon never needs to know any different."

He moved to kiss her, but Rayna pulled back and turned away, sitting down on the couch. The stress of the moment had lifted, at least a little, and she felt weak with relief.

She was still in shock that Teddy hadn't yelled, he hadn't accused, hadn't demanded an apology. Because he really, truly loved her; that much was obvious. Not many women in her position would get an offer so generous, and Rayna knew she should be grateful for it. But when she spoke, her words were halting. "Teddy, I'm so glad you feel like this, like you want to take care of me. You're not furious with me, like you should be. I don't deserve you, babe. I really don't."

Teddy came over and sat next to her, close but not touching. "But … ?"

"But, I'm not sure what I'm going to do just yet. I'm not even sure if I'm ... going through with this, okay? It's early yet and I have a lot of decisions to make. I don't want to rush into anything."

"Listen Rayna, I know how Deacon manipulates you. And I know something else: He's not father material. You and I both know that; everyone does. Do you want to put a child through what you've gone through with him, all these years? Do you want to expose a child to that kind of psychological abuse – even if it is his, biologically?"

Rayna sighed. No. No, she didn't want to go through it anymore, let alone put a child through it. No one deserved that. Teddy was right. And yet …

"I want us to take a paternity test, Teddy. Right away. And if this is your child, I will marry you and I will love you and I won't look back, I promise."

"And if it's Deacon's?"

She looked over at him. He was looking at her so sincerely, so tenderly. He loved her, she knew that. And he was stable, and steady, and kind. He'd make a great father. Sometimes he even made her truly happy; made her forget.

But never for long. Never for long enough, anyway. She thought again about the ring, and the invitation in her jewelry box.

"Rayna," he repeated softly, bringing her back to the moment. "What if you find out it's Deacon's?"

She spoke reluctantly but firmly. "I don't know, Teddy. I don't know anything right now. Just that I need time." She stood up, walked over to her kitchen counter and picked up a business card lying next to the telephone. She held it out to him. "Will you go to my doctor's office next week? She said she'd do the paternity test right away."

Teddy looked down, putting his hands on his knees and sighing as he stood up. He walked over and took the card from her hand. "Yes. I'll agree to a paternity test. But let's do it after we get married. We can go to Vegas next weekend, Rayna. I'll have my secretary arrange everything. We'll have a beautiful trip and I'll take you away from all this stress you've been carrying around. Will you let me do that, honey? I love you so much."

He opened his arms and she leaned into him, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him on the mouth. And then, suddenly, she was crying into his shoulder, pressing her face into his white shirt, smudging it with mascara and her tears.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry, Teddy." She apologized over and over as he held her close and murmured his forgiveness into her hair.

Slowly, her sobs quieted and her breathing calmed. Teddy brought a hand up and brushed the hair off her shoulder so he could kiss the right side of her neck and nuzzle her cheek. He felt her relaxing and he tightened his arms around her, moving to kiss her on the lips.

But Rayna stiffened and pulled away, taking a tissue from a box on the kitchen counter and drying her eyes. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I really don't deserve you, babe. I don't. But tonight ... I'm just so tired. Let's concentrate on getting this test done next week. Okay?"

Teddy was disappointed. He'd been hoping to spend the night for the first time since she'd moved to this apartment. But she obviously wasn't up for sex, and he could see that he'd lost the battle to get her to commit now. Still, he was determined to win the war. He would try and persuade her again. He knew it was important to close the deal with her soon, before she found out that her baby wasn't his, which he strongly suspected was the case. He'd been shocked when Tandy told him Rayna was pregnant, knowing how careful they'd been about birth control. But he knew how unlikely it was that Deacon had been equally careful. The idiot had probably been drunk off his ass, as usual.

Rayna was exhausted, he could see it in her eyes. He would let her sit with his offer over the weekend and talk to her on Monday. Claybourne was gone, off at another rehab center somewhere and out of reach for the time being. At least there was no need to worry about him finding out about the pregnancy right away.

"Of course, honey. But think about what I said, will you? I hope you know I'd do anything for you," Teddy said, picking up his jacket and walking toward the door. "I'll get over to your doctor's office on Monday."

Rayna closed the door behind him and breathed out a shaky sigh. As much as she had dreaded this evening all week, it had gone much better than she'd expected. And Teddy's offer had been generous – more than generous. It was something she couldn't imagine most men even contemplating. He was a good man. He'd make a wonderful father.

Rayna walked back to her bedroom and got ready for bed, turning on the TV. Then she walked over to her dresser again, opening her jewelry box. She pulled out the postcard and the ring and stared at them for a long time. Finally, she crawled into bed and turned out the lights.

She had never felt so exhausted in all her life.