It happens more often than you'd think. I'm kin to half my husbands, and I'm batting .750 if stepcousins count. Technically, I could have met No. 1 at a family reunion instead of a friend's kitchen table.
The one I procreated with? We are not directly related, but we share dozens of cousins, which could be the case with Randy Travis here. I sent No. 2 and our daughter to my family reunon because I had to work, and he came back a little pale-faced because of the number of kinspeople he had there too. I had to color-code the tree for him to prove we were not kin.
Thinking I was dealing with a severe case of small town kinships, I went all the way to Indy for No. 4, and guess what? Yep, 8th cousins. My ancestor went south, his headed west.
Back to those small town kinships for No. 3, who happened to have been a talented musician. His color coding lights up like a Christmas tree. I was kin to him 4 times over, he was kin to my son-in-law a couple of times, and he had at least one link to Hubby 2; my beloved bass player had all the colors! I found out when his grandmother told me where to find the gravestones after giving me "the nod" as a granddaughter-in-law 6 months into the marriage.
His reaction? "Granny, I didn't want her to know. Now she's going to find everything!" She cackled, handed me a quart of her coveted canned pears, and told me where to find the criminal court records for He-Who-Survived-Hanging (and caused his whole line to be erased from all the family histories because he did a really bad thing to get hung in the first place).
That last one, where records and kinship lines were ignored for 3-4 generations by the family book writers due to shame? That's how cousins end up marrying each other right there!