Chapter 3

CHAPTER

THREE

H arry finally shoved his phone in his back pocket and told himself not to look at it again. He tuned into the family party at his uncle’s farmhouse, because while he’d missed the pancakes and eggs, Aunt Abby had just brought out a birthday cake.

For him.

He grinned at the flickering candles on the two-shaped and four-shaped candles as she approached. The rest of the family who’d gathered started to sing, and a squirrel of embarrassment funneled through Harry.

He shouldn’t have been late. Daddy hadn’t told him to set an alarm, and Harry hadn’t known they’d all been waiting for him so they could sing Happy Birthday and shower him with gifts he didn’t need.

The song ended, and cheering started. Harry grinned around at everyone, took an exaggerated breath, and blew out the two flames on the candle. The little cousins went nuts, and Harry beamed up at Aunt Abby. “Thank you,” he said to her.

She half-hugged him and then said, “Uncle Tex will be serving the birthday cake, and all kids must eat on a hard floor. If you’re over eighteen, you may eat your cake in the living room.”

Uncle Tex cut into the cake, the deep, rich chocolate flavor evident in the dark brown color of the cake. Aunt Abby had frosted it with the classic coconut and walnut frosting for a German chocolate cake—Harry’s favorite.

“For the birthday man first,” Uncle Tex said as he slid an enormous piece of cake in front of Harry. He grinned like they’d all gotten up for a second Christmas morning, and Harry wouldn’t deny his uncle the same smile in return.

Heck, he might be asking Uncle Tex if he could come out here and record songs. As far as Harry knew, now that Country Quad had retired, no one used the recording barn behind the farmhouse.

“This looks amazing,” he said. “Thank you, Aunt Abby.”

“Your momma helped,” she said from where she stood next to Ev, holding the newest member of Harry’s immediate family: two-month-old Avery.

“Thank you, Ev,” Harry said. He loved her with his whole heart, but he’d struggled to call her momma lately. His own mother had come into his life in a bigger role, and Harry had enjoyed seeing her, getting to know her, and spending time with her.

In truth, he felt pulled in a lot of different directions almost all the time. This is why you should be glad Belle hasn’t texted you back , he told himself sternly. So he’d felt a flicker of attraction to the woman. That didn’t mean they had to rush out to dinner that very evening.

Still, he didn’t want to be rejected, and he hoped she’d tell him no, thanks as kindly as possible. Just to leave him hanging? She wouldn’t be that cruel, would she?

Harry put the first bite of cake in his mouth, and the moist texture, the burst of chocolatey flavor, and the smooth frosting made every other thought fly out of his mouth. “My word,” he moaned.

“I want cake,” Keri said in her cute seven-year-old voice.

“Uncle Tex is gettin’ it for everyone,” Daddy said, his hand landing on Harry’s shoulder.

“Come have some of mine, Little Miss.” Harry reached for Keri in Daddy’s arms, and his father slid the little girl into Harry’s lap. He handed her the fork he’d just used, and she didn’t care at all as she reached to get a bite of the chocolate cake.

“I have some too,” Clay said, and Harry moved Keri over to his right side so Clay could climb up on his left.

“There’s plenty of cake,” Uncle Tex bellowed as the last piece from that platter got handed out. “No crying. Anyone crying won’t get cake.”

“Daddy, I didn’t get any cake,” Bryce said, his voice one of fake-whining.

Harry grinned at him and shook his head. Bryce picked up another plastic fork and gave it to Clay, leaning closer as he said, “Happy birthday, brother. ”

“Thanks,” Harry said, his gaze staying on his cousin as Bryce fell back to Codi’s side. He put his arm around her, and Harry couldn’t help noticing the way the diamond on her left hand glinted in the bright kitchen lights at the farmhouse.

It sure did seem like everyone had what he wanted, and Harry closed his eyes and let the Young Family noise, activity, and joy seep into him. He belonged in this family, even if he didn’t have a spouse or a girlfriend, or any prospects for a spouse or girlfriend.

He’d be able to show up on a dozen doorsteps, day or night, and he’d be welcomed inside, given food and a bed and love. That was what the Youngs did, and Harry let all of his negative emotions seep right out of himself.

As he took a cleansing breath, he opened his eyes. He looked at Clay, who had a wad of chocolate cake in his fist. “You want bite, Harry?” He held up his hand, and Harry smiled so he wouldn’t dry heave.

“No, buddy. You have it.”

Clay stuffed the cake in his mouth, and chocolate smeared all around his lips. Harry looked over to Daddy, but he’d taken the baby from Aunt Abby and patted her while she cried. Ev watched them, and Harry watched her. She’d been having some problems since Avery’s birth, and Harry had watched her recede and recede into herself. Daddy had finally talked her into going to the doctor, and she’d been taking some medicine that had been helping.

Getting the dose right seemed to be taking some time, and Harry smiled at her as she looked his way. She returned the gesture and shook her head. “I’m not even sure if they’re getting any cake in their mouths,” she said.

“Cake!” Clay yelled. “Momma! Cake!”

Harry bounced him on his knee. “Yeah, you’re eatin’ cake, buddy.”

Grandma came over with a rag, and she cleaned up the little boy and plucked him from Harry’s lap. “Come on, you sweet boy. Let’s wash you up.” She bustled into the kitchen, and Harry simply basked in the energy of his family.

A couple of weeks later, Harry disembarked from the plane in Nashville, his backpack on his shoulders and his stride long. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, because he’d learned not to make eye contact. Otherwise, he’d get stopped a dozen times between his gate and the baggage claim area.

He’d have to give out signatures and adopt his public relations smile. Harry didn’t want to be rude, but he just wanted to get his bag and get back to his downtown apartment. He had a lesson with his guitar instructor tomorrow, and next week, Uncle Morris would be in town to discuss where Harry could record his next album.

Questions swarmed Harry, pressing into his mind from every direction. If he got approved to record in Coral Canyon, would Uncle Tex let him use the barn? Would he have to give up his apartment here? Should he?

Daddy had found a couple of houses for Harry to look at in Coral Canyon, but nothing had stood out to Harry. If he got approved to record in Coral Canyon, where would he live? He couldn’t stay with Daddy and Ev.

In fact, he’d been staying with Bryce for the past couple of weeks. He had a big house, and Harry helped with the horses. He liked spending time with Bryce and Codi, and Kassie and Reggie, because they never treated him like a fifth wheel.

Belle had texted to say she wasn’t sure she had time to set anything up for a date, and Harry had accepted that her case load right now wasn’t conducive to making dinner plans. They’d texted a little bit, and then everything had tapered into nothing.

Kassie and Reggie had postponed their wedding by a month, and Harry wondered if he should just stay down here until then. Going back and forth sounded exhausting, and Harry honestly had no idea where he’d be in a month.

He arrived at the appointed baggage claim, and the suitcases hadn’t started to rotate around yet. Harry stayed out of the way, because he didn’t need to stand two feet away from the carousel. When his bag showed up, he’d grab it and go.

While he waited, he called for his car, and his driver said he’d be there in ten minutes. The sound of a suitcase clunking along the metal filled the air, and Harry looked over to the belt. He edged around the end of the carousel so he could see better, but none of the few suitcases which had arrived were his.

“You’re Harry Young,” someone said, and a sigh pulled through his chest .

He couldn’t just pretend like he hadn’t heard the woman, so he glanced over to her. “Hey,” he said. She couldn’t be much older than him, and she stood with three other young women close to his age.

He put a smile on his face. “Are you coming home or visiting?”

“Visiting,” she said. She moved closer to him, as did the people she stood with. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you.”

“That song about fishing with your son is one of my favorites,” another woman said.

Harry nodded, his smile slipping as more people looked his way. “Thanks,” he said. “I wrote that…a couple of years ago.” He stepped closer to the baggage claim as he started getting surrounded.

He just needed to get his bag and go.

A woman moved right into him and extended her hand. “It’s so great to meet you.”

The backs of Harry’s calves touched the metal of the baggage claim. He had nowhere to go, and people kept pressing toward him. And toward him. And toward him.

Harry looked past the swarm, trying to find someone to help him. His eyes landed on an airline employee, and he raised his hand. “Help,” he called.

The man didn’t move. The group in front of him—mostly women—got closer. Harry tried to move sideways, but an oversized suitcase had just come around the corner. It hit the back of his legs, sweeping his feet out from under him .

“Help,” he yelled again, stumbling with the weight of his backpack.

Someone touched his chest; someone grabbed his arm; someone’s face flashed in front of his as he fell backward onto the moving baggage claim belt. “I need help here,” he called as the world went upside down.

He needed a lot of help.