Continued from page 4

Trio Grande

By Jim Jerome

Thursday January 23, 2003 11:34 AM EST

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It all makes for one gnarled family tree. "Martie," Maines notes, "is my sister's sister-in-law, and we're both aunts to her baby." Says Lloyd Maines: "It's not inbred at this point, but sort of. It works."

Certainly the threesome are never far apart. Maines and Pasdar live in a colorful, quirky Austin home with Mexican folk art, primitive masks, a slot machine in the living room and a velvet Elvis flanked by Jesus and Mary on the deep-red dining room wall. Martie and Gareth live 20 minutes away in a 5,000-sq.-ft. home in a gated community outside Austin, where he acts in local theater. "It's very private. I can go skinny-dipping in the pool," she says.

The Robisons, who began dating after Nashville's Fan Fair in '98, live in a 70-year-old stone and cedar-beamed farmhouse about two hours south, in Medina, Texas. The home is part of a 1,200-acre working ranch with eight horses and 75 head of cattle. "Charlie does all the hands-on ranch stuff," says Emily. "I write the checks."

The family groove continues even on workdays. Slade was in the studio every day when they cut Home, and "he learned to crawl there -- on the nasty, crunchy carpet," says Natalie. Last month Robison had Gus on the same carpet. ("He was on a blanket," she points out.) And when they hit the road in spring for a U.S. tour, they'll be riding in Faith Hill's old bus -- child-proofed for her two young girls. "All the doors," says Maines, "are sound-proofed and padded, no doorknobs, nothing the kids could bump their heads on. A big sink so you can bathe the baby. And a full-size refrigerator for Emily to store her bottles." Fulltime nannies for Slade and Gus will be in tow, but the Chicks are quickly learning to mix babies with business. "Emily will be burping Gus in one arm and on the phone with the other making business decisions," says Robison.

Like their 2001 claim against their label, Sony Music. The Chicks accused Sony of "systematic thievery," saying they had been cheated out of millions in royalties. Sony responded with a $100 million suit, then settled, offering the Chicks a reported $20 million to stay, plus a steep royalty raise. "We hash things out. We're equals," says Emily of the band's one-for-all strategy. Natalie agrees. "We do have egos," she admits, "but if anyone acted alone, the trust would be out the window."

In fact, wherever Chicks fly, instinct seems to guide them to do it in formation. Last August Maines and Pasdar bought an apartment in New York City, where they enjoy getting away to visit pals. Martie decided to get a place too -- and ended up looking at more than 60 before striking gold. "We walked in," she says, "and Gareth said, 'I can picture us here.' I said, 'I love it.' " And that's when the realtor said, "Well, look out the window because that's Natalie's apartment." Says Martie: "We can't get away from each other."

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