Chapter 48

Belle sat on the front steps of Harry’s house, her knees pulled up to her chest as she watched the sleepy neighborhood beyond. Fall had definitely arrived in Wyoming, with the aspens boasting their glorious, fiery leaves in every shade of yellow and orange known to mankind. She loved the white-barked trees, and Harry owned a clump of them that stood proudly in the corner of his front yard.

A sneeze behind her made her turn as the front door opened, and Harry and Adam’s voices filled the air.

“She’s just sitting out here on the steps,” Adam said. “I’m sorry, Miss Belle, I didn’t mean to make you sit outside.”

“You didn’t,” she said as she twisted to look over her shoulder at him. “I knew you guys had stuff to talk about.”

“How long have you been out here?” Harry asked as he settled beside her.

She smiled at him and kissed him quickly. “I don’t know, twenty or thirty minutes.”

Adam sighed and settled on Belle’s other side.

“So,” she asked. “What’s the news?” For she knew they’d have news. In fact, big things were going down in Coral Canyon with the Young family.

Kassie and Reggie would have their baby before Christmas, with Bryce’s and Codi’s coming before Thanksgiving.

That alone had caused a huge stir in the family. Harry had quit his country music career, and just last week, Morris had announced that his house would be finished before Halloween, and he’d need all the help he could get to move.

But that wasn’t really the noteworthy news coming out of the Morris branch of the Young family tree. What was? The fact that he would like to retire from being Country Quad’s manager.

That news had stunned all the Youngs into silence, even the babies, and Belle smiled just thinking about when he’d said it at a family dinner only a single Sabbath Day ago.

“Do you want to tell her?” Adam asked.

“It’s not my news to tell,” Harry said, and he did sound a bit grumpy.

She reached over and took his hand. “We’re still going out to your uncle’s recording studio right after this, right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “They’re expecting us.”

The meet-and-greet in Nashville had gone quite well. They’d only been home for a couple of weeks, but they’d both gotten a lot of interest in their songs. Belle received emails and calls every day, and she’d started working on a deal for one of the songs she and Harry had performed at Tumbleweeds.

She wanted to be able to produce more demos, and Harry had said they could go look at the white-barn-recording-studio that stood behind Tex and Abby Young’s home on the northeast side of Coral Canyon.

Belle turned her attention to Adam now, raising her eyebrows, because if Harry didn’t have news, then Adam must.

“Country Quad has asked me to be their manager,” he said.

A smile burst onto Belle’s face, but Adam looked like he’d swallowed an entire bushel of lemons.

“Don’t be so happy about it,” Harry said from her other side. “He’s not happy about it.”

“I am happy about it,” Adam argued back. “I love Coral Canyon.”

Belle felt whipped between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match in 3D. She glanced to Harry and then back to Adam. “What’s the problem then?”

“I have another offer,” Adam said.

Of course he did, because Adam possessed talent in spades. Belle had never met anyone who could do what he did, and he had a lot of contacts in security at airports, restaurants, and more .

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Harry echoed. “Who is it?”

“You don’t know?” Belle turned her attention back to him. Left to Adam. Right to Harry. Left, right, left, right.

“He won’t tell me,” Harry said.

“I don’t have to tell you who I’m working for next,” Adam said. “My last day with you is six days from now. And then you don’t get to know anything.”

“We’re friends ,” Harry said, all the bluster in Adam going out, and Belle watched the last of it as she turned back to Harry.

“My best friend,” Adam said. “I’m sorry, Harry, but I’ve signed an NDA that I would not disclose who I interviewed with in Nashville, and if that was you, you would expect me not to say.”

“You’re right,” Harry grumbled.

“Are you going to take the job in Nashville?” Belle asked, truly surprised. “You can’t do that. You’ve got to stay here.”

“I do?” Adam asked acidly.

“ We’re here,” Belle said as she linked her arm through his. “We want you here. Is Country Quad not paying well?”

“They’re paying plenty,” Harry said.

“As if you know,” Adam fired back. He softened again as he looked at Belle. “Yes, they’re paying well.”

“Well enough for Wyoming,” she said with a grin.

And Adam finally smiled. “Well enough for Wyoming.”

All three of them seemed to breathe out at the same time, a collective sigh that influenced the breeze. It picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees. Then Adam put his palms on his knees and stood.

He exhaled heavily again and said, “I’d better get going.”

“See you later, Adam,” Belle called, but Harry simply glared him down the stairs and then the sidewalk.

“You are seriously so grumpy,” Belle complained to him.

He lifted his arm and put it around her. “Do we have to go to the recording studio tonight? I just want to lay on the couch with you.”

“Yes, we have to go to the recording studio first,” she said. “Besides, I heard they have a couch in the lobby there where you used to do your homework after school.”

He turned his glare on her. “We’re not cuddling on the couch in the recording studio.”

“Fine,” she said as she got to her feet. “ I’m going to the recording studio. If you’re in such a bad mood that you can’t come and be pleasant, then just stay here.”

He looked up at her, and for half a second, she thought he really was too grumpy to come. But then he said, “I’m sorry, Belle,” and pulled her back to the steps. “Forgive me?”

She searched his face. “You’re going to miss him terribly.”

“I already do,” he whispered. She didn’t want to tease him, because Harry hadn’t needed help with his grocery shopping and getting dinner reservations. He needed to ensure his safety, and Adam had done that flawlessly.

“Maybe he’ll stay,” she said quietly.

Harry shook his head sadly. “You never know with Adam. ”

“He’s a real go-getter,” Belle said as Adam drove away from the house in the sleepy suburb of Coral Canyon. “Small town life might not be for him.”

“Might not be,” Harry said. He took a breath and let it all out too. “Come on. Let’s go. I told Uncle Tex we’d be there around six, and we’re already going to be late.”

Belle let him stand first, and then he pulled her to her feet as well. He drove them twenty-five minutes from his house in the middle of Coral Canyon to the outer edge of town where the bigger farms and ranches sprawled.

“How much land does your uncle have?” Belle asked as Harry pulled into the driveway. A cute farmhouse sat there with a patch of lawn that looked like it had some parts where the sprinkler system didn’t quite reach.

“Two hundred acres,” Harry said. “Abby’s brother lives right next door. He’s got that much too. They work hard.”

“Uncle Tex works the ranch?” she asked.

“I think he’s got a couple men who come to help, but Tex takes care of it, yeah.”

Belle nodded, and for some reason, she couldn’t get out of the truck. Harry stayed in his seat too, both of them just looking out the windshield, with the farmhouse on the left and a barn straight back past the garage.

“Why am I nervous?” Belle asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “It’s just a recording studio.”

“I’ve been in one before,” Belle said.

“Maybe you don’t have good memories of it?” He finally tore his attention away from whatever he’d been studying on the horizon and looked at her .

“Maybe,” she said. “We’ll go in together, right?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna go together.” He got out of the truck and then came around to open her door.

They started past the steps that went up to the second-floor entrance on the side of the house, and Belle asked, “Do we need to go get your uncle?”

“Nope,” Harry said. “He said it would be open.”

Around the back of the house, Belle found a big deck shading a patio, more manicured lawn, and a white sidewalk that led diagonally through it to the most perfect white barn she’d ever seen in her life.

“This is really nice,” she said, awed.

The barn had no windows and only one door in the front, and a nervous flutter wove through her bloodstream with every step she took.

“Oh,” she said, her feet faltering. “I left my guitar in the truck.”

“They’ll have plenty out there,” Harry said.

“But I want mine,” Belle said.

“All right,” he said easily. “Go grab it. I’ll wait here.” He waved her on, and Belle turned to hurry back to the truck. He hadn’t brought his guitar, probably because he had one here, though he’d never said that. Either way, Belle wanted hers, and she grabbed her case from the backseat and started back toward the barn. The door opened by the entrance, and Melissa came out.

“Hey, Belle,” she called, and Belle stopped, though she wanted to get back to Harry as fast as possible.

“Hey, Melissa,” she said .

“Are you gonna play in the barn?” the girl asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Your daddy said it was okay.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Melissa said. “My mama wanted to invite you and Harry to dinner after.”

“I think we’re counting on it,” Belle said, because Abby had already invited them for dinner.

“She made pizza pockets. And they’re so good.”

“Okay,” Belle said. “I don’t think we’re going to be long. We’re just doing a tour and a little soundcheck.”

Abby poked her head out of the house behind Melissa. “Take all the time you want, Belle,” she said. “The pizza pockets keep warm forever.” She grinned too, and then she guided her daughter back into the house.

Belle went between the steps and the garage again and started up the sidewalk before she realized that Harry wasn’t standing there anymore. He’d been complaining about the heat this summer, and while it was almost October and definitely not hot, she would never describe Harry as outdoorsy.

He liked horses and horseback riding, but he’d never taken her hiking or camping. He never even mentioned doing those things.

She figured she could open a door and walk into a recording studio by herself. She simply didn’t want to. As she approached, her fingers tightened around the handle of her guitar case, and she slowed. God seemed to know that she couldn’t do this on her own, because the door opened and Harry came out.

“There you are,” he said brightly. “Got it?” He reached for her guitar and took it from her, then raised his eyes to hers again. “Come on, baby. It’s just a couple more steps, and then you’ll be inside.”

She swallowed and nodded as he took her hand and guided her into the recording studio. They entered a lobby, the door in the middle of it. The couch Harry where had done his homework sat on to the right, with only empty space on the left.

In front of her, a wall of glass separated this entryway from the recording studio, and Belle realized the genius in such design. This way, someone could come into the recording studio without interrupting the actual recording. So the band could finish their song and still have guests.

She saw all the typical equipment—the huge panels with knobs and sliders and buttons—and then the studio beyond with its soundproofing materials. The weird way the ceilings and walls echoed the sound back to the band. There were indeed many guitars, a drum set, and microphones everywhere.

“They don’t use it much anymore,” Harry said. “It’s kind of a mess right now.”

“Making music is kind of messy,” Belle murmured. She hadn’t written since she’d been home from Nashville, but she could definitely feel something buzzing and burning inside of her. A new song would come out soon enough.

“This is incredible,” she said.

“Right?” Harry chuckled. “For a barn out in the middle of Wyoming.”

She met his eyes. “Can we play? ”

“Yeah, let’s go play.” He led the way in, and he took her guitar out of its case for her, then selected one from a stand in the corner.

“This is my dad’s,” he said. “I think I can probably play it.”

“Yeah, I think you probably can,” she said dryly.

He started to pluck through some chords, but Belle didn’t have her strap on yet. The guitar Harry had chosen did. His fingers moved as expertly as ever as he looked up at her and said, “My dad and I wrote this song for Ev when they were dating.”

Then he moved straight into singing.

The first time Belle heard a song, she paid attention to her emotions and how she felt. It was hard to hear every word and capture the exact meaning of lines that were short and stanzas that had to be put together to complete thoughts. But her heart and soul had been born of music, and it didn’t take her long to realize that this was a love song.

Harry only sang one verse and one chorus, and she started to clap, her smile absolutely huge on her face. She surely looked like a magic clown. Harry didn’t return the gesture. He looked down at his hands, the notes and rhythm automatically changing to something else. She hadn’t heard this song before. When Harry looked up at her, his eyes burned with dark fire.

“In a small-town Wyoming world where big dreams fly,

A country music star finds love in your eyes,

We’ll build a home with laughter, cats, and song,

A missing heart found, with you lying here in my arms. ”

Tears burned in Belle’s eyes, for he’d written her a song about their love story.

“Through every song and every tear we’ve shared,

Even when we were apart, I’ve always cared,

Two stars collided, found rest in each other’s arms,

Will you marry me, and make me the happiest man on this farm?”

Then he performed the classic Harry move and swung his guitar around to his back. With the phenomenal acoustics of the recording studio, the last chord he played still hung in the air, reverberating around from corner to corner and floor to ceiling as he dropped to both knees in front of her.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a ring and held it up. “Every moment with you has been a blessing, and I wish I could’ve met you sooner simply so I could love you longer.”

Belle sighed, because what a perfect line.

“I know I’m an impatient man,” Harry said, lifting his eyes from the glinting gem to Belle’s. “But I want to be with you right now and forever. We had to wait to get where we are, and I don’t want to wait anymore. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Belle gasped out.

Harry grinned at her, all of his grumpiness gone, and said, “Well, get over here then.”

She practically threw her guitar in her haste to get closer to him. Thankfully, she didn’t, and she managed to set it in a stand and get close enough for him to slip the diamond onto her ring finger.

She pulled in a breath and stared at it. “Harry, this is a really big diamond.”

He got to his feet and gathered her close, sending warm shivers through her veins. He gazed down at her and said, “You are my ultimate happiness. I’m so glad that our timeline has finally come to this.”

He leaned down and kissed her. Belle had never felt as loved or as cherished as she did in that moment, kissing the man she loved, who loved her, and who would become her husband.

After several seconds, she pulled away. “When did you write that song?”

He chuckled and swayed with her. “I wrote it this morning, so it’s still rough. But, since I’ve had the ring since we got back from Nashville, I figured now might be as good a time as any to ask you.”

“It was perfect,” she said.

He slid his lips down the side of her neck and kissed her there. “A winter wedding?” he whispered.

“It’s almost October already,” she said, her skin smoking and sizzling where he touched it.

“January then?”

“That’s only four months.”

He lifted his head and looked at her with such hope that Belle couldn’t deny him. She also had no idea why she wouldn’t be able to get married in four months. And even though something in the back of her mind needled at her, whispering, This is the Harry Young , and surely he would need longer than four months, she nodded and said, “I’d love to marry you in January.”