Chapter 25

twenty-five

JACOB

I checked my watch. Five hours after arriving at the hospital, I was walking back to the parking lot with Andrew.

Although Jesse’s blood test results had come back negative for the measles or any highly contagious virus, the doctors wanted him to stay in the hospital. Whatever had attacked his little body had left him weak and dehydrated.

Barbara had decided to stay with her son. An orderly moved a big, comfy chair into the room for her, but with the noise coming from the ward, I doubted she’d get much sleep.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive home?” Andrew asked me.

I shook my head. “I’m okay. As long as there aren’t any issues on the road, we should be home by eleven-thirty.” I glanced at Andrew. For most of the night, he’d seemed distracted. “Is everything all right?”

He zipped up his jacket. “I think so.”

That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “Why do you think so and not know so?”

“That would make a good tongue twister.”

“You’re doing it again.”

Andrew frowned. “What?”

“Changing the subject.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Andrew stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “I thought everything was going so well. I’m making a good income from my photography business and I’ve made lots of wonderful friends in Sunrise Bay. I’m happier now than I’ve ever been. But I let my guard down and now everything’s blowing up in my face.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

Andrew stuck his hands inside his pockets. “Not long after we left Sunrise Bay, Paul sent me a text. Someone recorded me singing at Shane and Jonathon’s wedding. The video’s gone viral.”

“Viral?”

“More than four million people have watched the songs on YouTube.”

I didn’t know why he was so worried. “Is that a bad thing?”

Andrew sighed. “If I was still in the music industry, it’d be great. But I’m not. I’ve tried hard to keep away from the spotlight. I don’t want people to know where I live and what I’m doing—I had enough of that while I was in Nashville.”

“Will the video make that much difference?”

Andrew pulled out his phone and found his Facebook page. He showed me the screen, pointing to the number of messages waiting for him.

My eyes shot open. “Good grief. What could twelve hundred people want to ask you?”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know. What am I going to do?”

He was asking the wrong person. When it came to social media, I was hopeless. “You could ignore the messages. By tomorrow, another story will appear and no one will be interested in watching the video.”

“I hope you’re right.” Andrew slid his phone into his pocket and took a deep breath. “At least while I’m here, no one will know who I am.”

I pulled a ski cap out of my jacket. “If you want to hide, you could always wear this. It might keep any die-hard fans from knowing you’re in Boulder.” I’d given him the cap as a joke, but he thought I was serious.

With a relieved sigh, he pulled the black wool over his head. “Thanks, but be warned. If someone knocks on your front door at two o’clock in the morning, it could be me, on the run from a persistent fan.”

As if jinxing his disguise, Andrew’s phone rang. He looked at the caller display and frowned. “It’s Tim Evans.” He must have realized I didn’t have a clue who he was talking about. “He’s a country singer. Tim’s bigger than Faith Hill, Garth Brooks, or anyone else I could name. We’re performing together in a fundraising concert for the tiny home village.”

“Maybe you should answer his call.”

Andrew looked defeated, but he held his phone to his ear. “Hi, Tim. It’s Andrew.” As he listened to what Tim was saying, his mouth dropped open. “Are you sure?”

I couldn’t hear what was being said, but whatever it was, Andrew was surprised.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” Before Andrew put the phone away, he turned it off. “All the tickets for our concert sold out this afternoon. Tim wants to stay an extra night and do a second concert.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“We’ll raise twice as much money for the village.”

I frowned. “But?”

“Everyone thinks I’m relaunching my career. Two concerts will make it seem even more likely.”

“Are you sure that’s not what you want to do? I heard you sing. You’ve got an amazing voice.”

Andrew pulled the ski cap lower. “I’m not going back to Nashville. How do I look?”

“Like a fugitive on the run from the law.”

A wide smile replaced Andrew’s frown. “That’s good enough for me. Are you ready to go home, partner?”

I held out my arm. “I’ve been ready for a long time. Let’s go.” And before Andrew started over-thinking the upcoming concerts, I led him toward my truck.