Chapter 46

CHAPTER

FORTY-SIX

B elle sat in the Nashville airport, her legs crossed and her foot bouncing, with her baggage standing guard beside her. She’d arrived forty minutes ahead of Harry, and she’d been people-watching to pass the time. She didn’t need to go over her notes for the meet-and-greet again. In fact, if she did, she’d want to rip them to shreds.

She’d enjoyed her visit in Oklahoma with her parents, and they seemed happier for her next stage of life than anything else she’d done. She supposed she couldn’t ask for more than that, and yet she found herself begging the Lord that the next two days until the meet-and-greet would be some of her sharpest and that the actual event on Tuesday afternoon would be the single best day of her life.

She lifted her hand to her mouth once again and chewed on one of her nails. He should be here any minute, and he’d already texted when he and Adam touched down. Then they just had to deplane and make their way to baggage claim. Harry never carried a bag with him bigger than a backpack, so he’d have checked his bag and both of their guitars. He had taken a picture of himself with them in Jackson Hole this morning, so she knew he’d had them at the gate.

Her phone chimed, and she glanced at it to find a message from Harry: At the gate.

She dove onto her phone then and picked it up. I can’t wait to see you , she said.

She’d never been an overly emotional or sentimental person, but if going undercover had taught her one thing, it was that she did feel things deeply and she did want people around her that she could trust and love.

She had missed her cats terribly when she first returned, and now she had Simba, who brought her such joy. She needed something where she could contribute. She needed something where she could pay her bills. Even though her momma had told her that if she married Harry, why did it matter if she sold a bunch of songs to other artists or not?

It was a good question, one that had been plaguing Belle for several days now. And the truth was: She wanted to matter too. She wanted the bad things and the negative things and the hard things that she’d experienced in her life to be bled out through songs, through writing.

That was what songwriting had always done for her—it had been a form of therapy, and Belle hadn’t even realized it until recently .

She couldn’t wait to talk to Harry about it. She fixed her gaze on the security exit that all passengers came through when they arrived in Nashville. The baggage claim spread in front of her from there. She was fairly certain she’d see Harry before he saw her.

She knew he was coming, because the flow of people trickled to nothing, almost like he was the last one off the plane instead of seated in row two, first class. That testified of Adam, who cleared the area around Harry wherever he went, especially in crowded places like the airport.

Someone sat down next to Belle just when she thought the opaque glass door would open and Harry would walk through.

“You’re Belle Graves,” the woman said, and Belle turned her eyes from the security exit to look at her. She’d been sitting here for forty-five minutes, and not a single person had even looked at her strangely.

“Yes,” she said, putting a smile on her face.

“I watched four of the live streams that Harry did from Jackson Hole just to see you play These Empty Halls . I downloaded it, and I listen to it on repeat when I’m having a bad day.” Her face crumbled only for a moment, but Belle saw it.

She reached over and took the woman’s hand in hers. “I’m so sorry,” she said, for she knew she’d lost someone important to her. She didn’t know who or when. But These Empty Halls spoke about an amazing love that lingered long after whatever or whoever had gone. It testified to the enduring power of love, and this woman had clearly had it.

“My husband was taken home too soon,” she said. “And when I play your song, I can still feel him in our house.” She smiled through her tears, and Belle leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

“Bless you,” she said. “I’m so glad this song helps.”

“I’ll leave you alone,” the woman said. “I just saw you and wanted to thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Belle said. “Thank you .”

The woman got up, quickly wiped her eyes, and walked away, where she met a couple of other women close to her age. They looked like her sisters, and they continued toward the security line entrance. Belle glanced over to the exit again and found more and more people coming through, which meant Harry had already arrived.

She stood and glanced down the row of baggage claim belts, but she didn’t see him. Of course she wouldn’t. Harry didn’t wait for his own baggage. Adam would get it, or security would get it, and they would bring it to wherever he was. Her phone chimed again, and she looked down at it in her hand.

Walking toward you , Harry said. You okay?

She looked up again. She still didn’t see him. People came and went, hustling and bustling, pulling their luggage behind them, wrangling their kids, and dashing to and fro. They parted, and there stood Harry. He wore a backpack and carried nothing but his glorious smile and a great big cowboy hat.

Belle’s heart practically burst within her chest. She hurried toward him and grabbed onto him as he did the same to her. He laughed as he lifted her right up off her feet, but she actually felt like crying—something she rarely did. She sniffled as he set her down, and he bent closer, creating an intimate space between them with his cowboy hat.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “I saw that woman talking to you. What did she say?” He looked around like he’d hunt her down right now and give her a piece of his mind.

“It was good,” Belle said. “This is happy emotion.”

Harry searched her face. She didn’t want to tell him she loved him in the Nashville airport. How lame was that? They had three hotel rooms for the next few days, and she wasn’t sure that that was a good place either. She wished she’d have been brave enough to tell him before she left Coral Canyon, but she hadn’t been.

“Is Adam getting the luggage?” she asked.

“Yeah, he’s waiting with security over there. He figured I’d be okay with you.” He grinned at her. “I don’t know what that says about me or you, but I’m pretty sure it’s not something good.” He chuckled, and Belle’s happiness doubled.

He tucked her against his side, and they walked back toward where she’d been sitting. Her bag still stood next to the chair, and he sat down next to her where the woman had been, and Belle took his hand in both of hers.

“Harry,” she said, her voice and courage suddenly failing her. She looked at the way their fingers fit together, his much larger and longer but still created for the same purpose. She looked up at him, and he looked at her, pure questions, curiosity, and concern in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you,” she said simply. “And I know it’s totally lame to tell you in the Nashville airport, but that’s how I feel. I figured there’s not a better time or place, and you’ve been waiting a long time for me to say it anyway.”

Harry’s smile spread slowly across his face, and he leaned closer and closer and closer, and with the brim of his cowboy hat touching her hairline, he said, “I would wait a thousand lifetimes to hear you say you love me. And I will love you for that long as well.”

Tears streamed down her face now, and she brushed angrily at them but couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. She scoffed, then laughed, and then looked at him.

“You sounded like you were writing a song right then,” she said.

He did not laugh or scoff, and his smile had faded. “I mean it,” he said. “I’ve been feeling like maybe we’re not on the same page. Maybe God’s pulling us into two different timelines again. And I’ve told Him every day that you’ve been gone that I will do whatever I have to do, and be wherever I have to be, and say whatever I have to say, to be on the same page as you.

“Because I love you. Because you’re it for me. You’re everything I want, and being loved by you makes me a better man.”

“Are we ready?” Adam asked crisply.

Belle ducked her head further away from him, Harry’s lovely words filling her ears, her head, her heart, her very soul.

“You made her cry in the first ten minutes of seeing her?” Adam griped to Harry. “You are unbelievable. I told you to stay over by me.”

Harry burst out laughing, and he stood and moved in front of Belle to shield her and give her some privacy while she composed herself.

“They’re happy tears,” Harry said. “We need another couple of minutes.” He pulled out his wallet and handed it to Adam. “In fact, why don’t you go buy us some sodas? I hear it’s quite the drive to the hotel, and I’m thirsty.”

“You’re thirsty ?” Adam said, his voice incredulous. “I’m buying ten bags of Muddy Buddies,” he called as he walked away, leaving the luggage and guitars with Harry and Belle.

Harry sat back down and simply laced his fingers through Belle’s. She managed to stop crying; she wiped her face. Her breathing continued to hitch a little bit like it did in a toddler who’d really had a temper tantrum, but she managed to hide it so that anyone walking by surely didn’t think that she’d been sobbing.

“When do you want to get married?” he asked softly.

“Is this a proposal?” she whispered back.

“Hardly.” He scoffed, then his fingers around hers tightened. “I know I’m intense,” he said. “I know I may have moved faster than you in this second part of our relationship, and I’m willing to go slow. Especially if you want to get married in the summer, we’ve got loads of time to keep dating before I buy a ring.”

“I don’t believe for a single second that you didn’t buy a ring this week,” she said, and Harry brought his hand to his chest .

“Miss Belle,” he said as if she’d wounded him greatly. “I did no such thing.” He grinned at her, and Belle wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he said, the left side of his smile lowering faster than the right. “These next few days are about the meet-and-greet and the meet-and-greet only. But I would like to know.”

“Do people get married in the winter in Wyoming?” she asked.

“It’s not recommended,” Harry said dryly. “But my uncle Luke did it, and he and Sterling didn’t die. Indoor wedding, though.”

Belle grinned at him and laid her head against his shoulder. “I love you, Harry Young,” she said. “I’d marry you tomorrow. So whenever you ask me, we’ll just pick a date and get it done.”

He laid his head against hers. While he’d already said the most amazing things, there was nothing quite as magical as hearing the cowboy she loved say, “I’d marry you tomorrow too, my Belle.”