Love Song [Instrumental] (Hidden Springs #1)

6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Ten years ago

He was back. Adam had finally come back. Callie spotted him from across the commons, surrounded by a pack of the older boys. She couldn’t believe it had been an entire school year. Her junior year was over, and she had only one year of high school left before she could finally start her life. Adam had been out there in the real world this whole time. She wanted to hear all about it, but mostly she wanted to find a way to kiss him again.

It took forever to connect. The big barbecue on Memorial Day weekend was the kickoff to the summer season. Everybody wanted to catch up after the long winter. She was stuck with her girlfriends, he was stuck with his guy friends, and people would notice if one of them made a point of seeking out the other. The current flowing between them, as tangible to her as liquid lightning, seemed invisible to everyone else.

Only after the bonfire did he drift over to talk to her, when most everyone else had disappeared into the darkness in pairs and clumps. The fire had settled down to embers, providing just enough light for Adam to pick his way over the log benches and sit beside her. The moon, barely a sliver, didn’t help much. The lampposts along the road were far enough away that the entire commons felt dark and private, perfect for all sorts of mischief.

Had he been paying attention? Had he recognized the song she had written for him? She hadn’t exactly been subtle, calling it “A First Time for Everything.” Nobody else knew about that kiss. Not her sisters. Not her friends. Definitely none of the boys she had dated this year. They would have no idea what inspired the song, but Adam should know. She had saved it for last—for him. The other boys could think it was about them if they wanted to. That’s what they seemed like to her: boys. She tolerated their company because she wanted to go to the prom like everybody else, but they needed some serious practice when it came to kissing. She tried to avoid it if she could.

Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, as if it wanted to jump right out and into his lap. That’s what she wanted to do. But what if he’d met some amazing woman in the city? A lot could change in a year.

They sat in silence for a few minutes and she relaxed. She wasn’t imagining the energy that hummed between them. He felt it, too.

“I liked your new song,” he said at last.

She smiled in the darkness.

“Thanks. I found our encounter…inspiring.”

“Is that how you think of it? An encounter?” he asked, as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare at the fire.

“I try not to analyze it, or classify it, or categorize it,” she answered. “Ruins the perfection of the memory.”

He rubbed his forehead in a gesture she had come to associate with his internal tug-of-war .

“There are a million reasons we should try to forget about that day,” he said.

“Such as…?” she asked, curious to know what would be at the top of his list. In her mind, there were a lot of ‘shoulds’ warring with one overwhelming ‘want.’

“I have the advantage of experience. If we got involved, it would be too easy for me to manipulate you.”

“Hmmm,” she said thoughtfully. “So you’re worried that I might be overwhelmed by your manliness and become obsessed. Maybe stalk you?” She didn’t bother to hide her snicker.

He gave her an irritated glance. “It’s not funny,” he protested. “Putting aside the legalities—which are a big deal—I don’t want to be some creepy old guy who’s corrupting you. You’re supposed to be dating guys your own age, figuring this stuff out with them.”

She gave a snort of disgust. “Yeah, that’s been fun,” she said, her voice low and sharp. “I’ve tried dating guys my own age this year. We’re like the blind leading the blind and it sucks. They’re too nervous to talk like normal human beings, and they’re so drunk on hormones that they stick their tongues down your throat and try to dry hump you. It’s nasty.”

“Oh,” he said.

“You can see why I might fantasize about an older guy who actually knows what he’s doing.”

“So now I’m a boy-toy,” he groused.

She smiled.

“No, you’re my man-toy. You should feel honored.”

He grunted, not sounding pleased.

“Listen,” she said abruptly, seizing her boldness before it evaporated. “I’m going to be up at sunrise for a swim. I’m going to make out with the first guy I see. I hope it’s you.”

With that, she stood up, grabbed her guitar case, and headed home, hoping every step of the way that her gamble would pay off.

He wasn’t coming. The crushing weight of disappointment took her breath away, but she squeezed her eyes shut and scrubbed at her face, willing the tears to crawl back inside their tear ducts and stay put. If he was too chicken to acknowledge this thing between them, then that was his loss.

She ducked beneath the surface of the water one last time, then climbed on the dock, toweled off, and slid her feet back into her flip-flops. She hadn’t taken two steps when she saw him standing on the shore path. The tears, already primed, came out in a rush, and she swiped them away with her towel. She marched down the pier, the boards thumping beneath her feet, and stopped a few feet away from him. Fury and relief and joy swirled inside her. He looked angry, which only unsettled her more.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she said, hating the fact that her face must be all blotchy and he would know she’d been crying.

“I wasn’t,” he answered bluntly.

“Oh.” She tried to sound like she didn’t care. “What changed your mind?”

His gave her an assessing look. “I realized that if I didn’t, you might hook up with somebody else.”

She stiffened.

“Isn’t that what you want?” she tossed back. “Maybe I would find someone more appropriate. Someone my own age.” She threw his objections in his face, wanting him to admit…something. She must have scored a hit, because his face hardened and that caveman look came into his eyes. He stepped closer, so close that she had to tip her head back to see his face .

“I realized,” he ground out, “that the local boys are no match for you, and that the only person in danger of being manipulated is me.”

“I didn’t—”

“Ah, but you did,” he said, reaching up to cup her cheek. At his touch, the anger between them shifted, changing into a kind of heat. The river of emotion needed to pour out, and it did, flowing down her cheeks in hot streaky tears. “Intentional or not, it worked like a charm.” He pulled her closer, so that the tips of her breasts brushed against him. “All I could think about all night was you coming up out the water in that ridiculously small bikini and throwing your arms around some other guy. I don’t think I slept all night.”

She hiccoughed, caught somewhere between laughter and sobs.

“I didn’t sleep, either,” she choked. “I’ve been here since before sunrise.”

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. “Is there somewhere we could go?” he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. “We need to figure this out.”

She nodded, then pulled away, grabbing him by the hand. She knew the perfect place. The summer house.

“Follow me.”

Adam worked on the boat until he could barely stand. He returned to the house in search of food, drink, and another shower. Without the boat to hold his attention, his thoughts circled around and around the situation with Danny. He had to call Doc Archer, but how was he supposed to explain what had happened?

Oh, by the way, Doc, Danny sneaks out every morning, disappears to God knows where. Turns out he’s been hanging out with the neighbors’ daughter, playing music and talking up a storm. Who knew?

After all these months, the one place the kid never wanted to be was in the same room with Adam.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. There was no denying the truth. He had failed. No matter how much he wanted to connect with Danny, his nephew still didn’t trust him. Maybe Kat was right. She was the GAL, after all. Maybe Lainey’s parents could succeed where he could not. He had to do what was best for Danny, even if it meant breaking his promise. Even if it meant letting Danny go.

From the depths of memory, his brother’s voice bubbled up, so clear after all this time that it caught Adam by surprise.

‘Come home for a visit. You could use a break, and some time at the lake. The company can survive without you for a week or two.’

How many times had he put his brother off because of some crisis at work? How many chances had he missed?

‘It’s Thanksgiving, man. Who does a deal over Thanksgiving? Book the flight home. You can stay with us. Shoot some hoops. Wrestle with the kids. It will be the opposite of the traditional Reese family Thanksgiving. I promise.’

If it weren’t for Danny, Adam would have run from the memories months ago. He would have sold everything and moved far away. Fiji, maybe. But he was stuck, like Danny, in this life, here and now. Nothing could bring back the dead, and nothing could make the memories go away. He would have to find a way to survive without letting the guilt drag him under.

Adam shoved the memories away and grabbed the phone. Once he reached the Doc, he kept his explanation brief.

“I’ve got some progress to report, Doc, and a question.”

“Great. Let’s hear it.”

“Turns out Danny likes music, and that he used to play guitar with his father. I had no idea, or I would have suggested it sooner. ”

“Better late than never,” said the Doc. “So what are you going to do with that information?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you about. You know Mr. James, the music teacher?”

“Of course.”

“His daughter Callie is in town for a month or so. Danny’s been hanging around her whenever she plays music down by the water. Do you think there’s any harm in letting them spend time together, even though she’s only here for a short time?”

Adam didn’t mention the fact that Danny had spoken to Callie. He wanted to keep that nugget of good news to himself for a while longer. He also left out his personal history with Callie.

“Well, we’ve talked about Danny’s need for stability and predictability. You want the anchors in his life to be strong. But she doesn’t need to be an anchor. She would be more of a catalyst for change. I see no harm in him taking music lessons while Callie is visiting, as long as he understands that she’ll be leaving. You don’t want her departure to come as a surprise.”

“Understood,” replied Adam. “Any other words of wisdom?”

Doc Archer laughed. “Sounds like you’re on the right track. I’m glad that Danny’s showed an interest in something. Maybe next you can come up with an activity for the both of you to do together.”

“Right,” said Adam. “Working on it.”

Danny would be home from school any minute. While Adam waited, he needed something to do other than pace around the kitchen, so he went back up to the barn to assess the benches and seating from inside the Speakeasy . He had placed each piece carefully around the perimeter of his workspace during the tear-down and ignored them ever since. Adam loved working with wood, but leather and vinyl made him crazy. They were too pliable. Too unpredictable. Upholstery always put him in a bad mood.

Today, however, he was already in a bad mood, which made it the perfect time to take a closer look. After a quick survey of the wreckage, he concluded that the upholstery was a total loss—too many cracks and tears. But it was more than just a question of re-covering the existing cushions. The foam needed to be replaced as well. It had begun to crumble, and there was no cure for the musty smell other than starting fresh. He shrugged, resigned to the inevitable. Renewal takes time and hard work.

When he heard the sound of the bus coming over the hill, Adam turned off the work lights and headed out to meet Danny. They walked together back down to the cottage.

“So how was school?” asked Adam, holding the back door open.

He didn’t really expect an answer. Doc Archer kept telling him to ‘listen to Danny,’ to ‘ask Danny’ and ‘trust Danny,’ which sounded great in theory, except for the fact that Danny wouldn’t talk to him .

“Why don’t you put your backpack in your room and I’ll make you a snack,” Adam continued, hoping that food would lure Danny back out. Thankfully, it did. Once the boy was settled at the kitchen table with a bowl of warmed-up ravioli, Adam brought up the early-morning music sessions.

“Danny, I know where you’ve been going in the mornings.”

Danny stopped with a spoonful of pasta halfway to his mouth. He set the spoon down slowly and stared at Adam, waiting for him to say more. Eye contact at last.

“I’m glad that you found something you like to do,” continued Adam, watching Danny’s face closely. “I had no idea that you played the guitar, or that you might like music lessons.”

A strange expression crossed Danny’s face when Adam used the phrase ‘music lessons,’ as though he didn’t like Adam’s choice of words, but Adam pressed on, wanting to get to the heart of the matter.

“Callie and I talked this morning about her plans for the future. Did you know that she’s only going to be in town for a few more weeks?”

Adam waited until Danny responded with a nod. It pained him to realize that this was the closest he had come to a conversation with Danny since before the accident.

“It doesn’t make sense for you to work with her for a few short weeks. Now that I know you like music, I can arrange for you to have lessons with another teacher. Someone local, who will be here for the long term.”

Danny shook his head no. He had turned white, his freckles standing out clearly against the pale skin of his nose. Adam continued with his proposal.

“She’s very nice, and I can tell that you like her, but the more you work with her, the more you’ll miss her when she’s gone.” Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t want that for you.”

“No,” whispered Danny.

The word hit Adam right in the gut. His heart started pounding, and he was grateful to be sitting down.

“What?”

“No,” repeated Danny a little more firmly. “No music lessons. I want to play music with Callie.”

He was talking. Danny was speaking to him for the first time in ten months. Adam was so happy to hear his voice again that it took him a second to absorb what he was saying.

“It’s that important to you?” Adam asked gently.

Danny nodded. He didn’t bother with any more words. The message had been sent and received.

“Well all right then,” said Adam, clearing his throat and trying to sound normal. As if anything about this crazy situation were normal. “If you feel that strongly about it, I’ll talk to Callie, let her know that it’s okay with me. Shall I tell her you’ll be over in the morning?”

Danny nodded again, and some of the color came back to his face. Then he gave Adam a hint of a smile, something Adam hadn’t seen from Danny since—well, it was too long ago to remember.

“Why don’t I go do that right now?” said Adam.

Danny’s smile widened as Adam stood up and walked out the back door. He made it all the way down to the shore path before he lost it and sat abruptly on the steps leading down to the dock. He put his face in his hands as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. All the weight of the last ten months, all his fears of losing Danny—of failing him—all of it fell away and he was overwhelmed with a sense of hope.

Danny had looked him in the eyes and spoken. One way or another everything was going to be okay.

Callie wasn’t expecting the knock on the porch door. She considered ignoring it. Roscoe shifted position and opened one eye—not that she would trust him to sense danger. She hadn’t heard a vehicle, so it was probably Danny. Adam might not like it, but she wasn’t going to blow him off.

In a way, the knock was a welcome distraction from yet another frustrating session of songwriting. She had made progress, but still felt stuck, dissatisfied with everything. Nothing sounded commercial, which meant that Brian was going to hate it. Also, most of her song ideas told stories from her own point of view. Twisting that into something Brian could sing grew more difficult every day.

But when Callie rounded the corner of the wrap-around porch, she saw Adam at the porch door instead of Danny. The shock of seeing him, even through the storm glass, made her pause. She hadn’t had a chance to get used to being around him again. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to it. When she opened the door, he strode past her without waiting for an invitation.

“Come on in,” she called halfheartedly to his back. She followed him back around the corner, where Roscoe the traitor welcomed him and sniffed his pockets. When it became clear that no treats would be forthcoming, Roscoe returned to his favorite spot, circled twice, and flopped down to resume his nap.

Watching Adam, she thought of the caged tigers at the zoo, pacing back and forth in their cramped sanctuary. Like the tigers, he was much bigger up close, and more intimidating. All that power coiled inside one man put her whole body on alert. She retreated to her comfy wicker chair, leaving the uncomfortable one for him, but he ignored it, walking over to the porch rail and leaning on it as he looked out over the lake.

“So what’s the verdict?” she asked, when she didn’t feel like waiting any longer.

He answered without looking at her.

“Danny would like to continue playing music with you,” he said. She couldn’t see his face, so she had few clues to his feelings other than the visible tension in his shoulders.

“And the psychologist?” she asked cautiously.

“Says it should be fine, as long as Danny knows from the outset that you’re not staying.”

“And you?” She didn’t really care about the psychologist.

He turned to face her, his arms crossed, the afternoon sun highlighting every sharp angle and furrow on his face.

“It’s what Danny wants,” he said simply, as if that magically eliminated all his objections.

Callie studied him, wishing she knew what was going on in his head. She had been able to read the old Adam, but not this new model. She wondered if his own wounds, like Danny’s, were still raw.

After a moment, he joined her, sitting across from her in the uncomfortable chair and leaning forward.

“If you and Danny are going to play music together,” he began, “we need to establish some ground rules. For example, I’d like you to let me know when you’re available, so Danny doesn’t pester you at all hours. He needs to understand that there are boundaries.”

Callie nodded. If he wanted to be all business, she could follow suit.

“I’m usually up before sunrise,” she replied. Didn’t he remember? “Danny can continue to visit in the mornings, if that’s okay with you. Weekend mornings are fine, too. I’m always up.”

Adam nodded, then continued outlining his terms as if they were negotiating a deal.

“If something happens, if Danny talks about how he’s feeling, I need you to tell me.”

Callie tensed.

“How can I build trust with Danny if I tell you everything?” she asked.

“It’s critical that I understand Danny’s state of mind. If you’re not willing to work with me on this, then I can’t agree to the lessons.”

“But Danny won’t talk to me if he knows I’m running back to you and spilling all his secrets,” she objected.

“So don’t tell him.”

Callie opened and closed her mouth several times, completely at a loss. Finally she found her voice.

“I can’t do that,” she said firmly. She could see that Adam was getting upset. Holding up a hand to buy some time, she took a deep breath and started fresh.

“I understand that you want to protect Danny, and that you’re worried about him. But you also want him to open up to me, right? You like it when he talks?”

“Of course,” said Adam curtly.

“Great,” she said. “So why not trust me on this one? I promise I’ll let you know if he talks about anything major.”

Adam thought about it for a few long moments, and Callie tried hard not to let the hurt show. Did he really find it that hard to trust her? She was the one who should have issues with him—not the other way around.

“Define ‘major,’” he said at last.

“Why don’t you define it,” she countered. She wasn’t going to help him be a control freak.

“Fine,” he snapped. “If he talks at all about the accident, or his family, or about current or future custody arrangements, I need to know.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. Custody arrangements? What was up with that? She thought Danny was settled here with his uncle.

“Agreed?” he demanded.

“Agreed.”

She should feel good about this. In her Nashville life, she was the one to bend, while the others (especially Brian) got what they wanted. For some reason, she found it easier to stand her ground here at home. Maybe it was because she felt rooted, or maybe Adam brought out her strength.

“One last thing,” he said.

She smiled faintly, waiting for the zinger. This would be where she compromised herself into nothingness.

“Before you play music with Danny again, I need to hear it. I need to know what kind of music you play with him.”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“You want me to play for you?”

He nodded, completely serious. Her stomach did a mini-flip. Not once, all those years ago, had she played music just for him. At the bonfire, sure, but never when it was just the two of them. In fact, she had never played for an audience of one. She had jammed with other musicians one-on-one, and of course she had played just this morning with Danny, but that was collaborative—nothing like this.

“Now?”

He raised an eyebrow and half-smiled, as if daring her to chicken out..

“Is that a problem?” he asked, glancing over at her guitar which lay in the open case, clearly ready to go.

“Of course not,” she said, scrambling to think of something to play. “I’m surprised, that’s all. I mean, you know what kind of music I play.”

“I know what I hear on the radio,” he answered, shaking his head, “but that’s something else. That’s not you.”

She couldn’t help smiling. There were only four other people in the world who understood how much she had changed her music to fit the band: her parents and her sisters. She had been wrong about so much with Adam, but she had been right about one very important fact. He knew her.

“Fair enough,” she said, reaching for her guitar.

He leaned back in his chair, the pacing tiger relaxed, the coiled energy contained—for the moment, anyway. She pulled the strap over her head, got situated, checked her tuning. The polished wood felt solid in her arms, a shield between her and Adam. It wasn’t that he was dangerous, just…intense. It was her own weak defenses she worried about.

His amusement at throwing her off kilter made her want to return the favor. She didn’t much like this new, all-business Adam. She wanted to find out if the old Adam was still in there. But first, she needed to get her bearings.

“This is one of the songs that Danny used to play with Evan,” she began. “He said it would always make his mom cry.”

She probably shouldn’t sing. Pushing her voice was one of the dumbest things she could do, but “Danny Boy” didn’t pack quite the same punch without the lyrics. Besides, all the sleep and peace and quiet over the last couple of days had worked wonders. Her voice was still weak, of course, but no longer quite so raspy.

She kept her voice whisper-soft and focused on the meaning of the words. The music curled around them, intimate in a way that she hadn’t expected. It reminded her of playing at the bonfire, where the music had swirled through the dark summer night and linked them all together.

When the last few notes of the song had floated away, she cleared her throat.

“We’ve also started to work on a song that’s new to Danny, something happier.”

He clearly recognized “Take Me Home, Country Roads” right away. She caught his eye and he smiled. She was pleased when he began tapping the rhythm with his fingers. The song lightened the mood between them, as she had hoped it would, and took her mind off the prickles of awareness dancing up and down her spine.

As she sang the familiar words, she made a covert study of his face. The years had changed him in subtle ways that fascinated her. His hairline had crept back. A few gray hairs dusted his temples. The planes of his face had an edge to them now. Harsh, but beautiful.

She could have ended the private performance after that song. She knew she had reassured him, and it would have been the safe thing to do. But she wanted to connect with the old Adam, and she knew only one way to do it.

“I’ll probably play some of my own music with him,” she said softly. “Being home brings it all back, if you know what I mean.”

Callie tried to hold his eyes during the first few bars, but the memories overwhelmed her. She had played “A First Time for Everything” at the bonfire only once. Did he remember? It had been the prelude to a steamy summer. She had learned more about her body during their stolen hours together than she had in a lifetime of living in her own skin. It had taken some persuading on her part. He had refused to sleep with her, seeing as how she wasn’t eighteen yet, but she had persuaded him to do just about everything else.

She let her eyes slide down to his jawline. The shadow of reddish-brown stubble made her want to stop playing and touch, so she let her gaze drift lower, following the line of his neck to the pulse point at the base of his throat. All she could think about was the scent of his skin, and the dusting of hair barely visible at the neckline of his t-shirt that would inevitably lead south. She jerked her gaze to the side, let it wander down his arm, finally stopping where his hand rested on his knee. He didn’t tap the rhythm—it wasn’t that kind of song—but he didn’t twitch with impatience, either. She smiled to herself, finally relaxing, and serenaded his hand.

Only after the song ended did Callie raise her eyes. Nerves churning her stomach, she stayed silent, willing him to speak first. His face was impossible to read, although she could see tension in the line of his jaw. Her stomach began to sink.

“That’s still one of your best songs,” he said softly.

She flushed and felt her world shift as she realized that the old Adam was in fact still in there somewhere, much as the old Callie still lurked inside of her. Feeling an odd mixture of relief and vulnerability, Callie used the excuse of putting her guitar away to break eye contact and the connection between them.

Adam stood and moved toward the door.

“So I should expect Danny tomorrow morning, then?” asked Callie.

He paused, looked back over his shoulder, and nodded. Then he disappeared around the corner of the house. The porch door swung shut with a snap and she shivered as she caught sight of him striding back toward the cottage. The old Callie very much wanted to connect with the old Adam, but she wasn’t sure today’s Callie was ready to risk those rapids again.

Adam forced himself to walk away, fighting the instinct to run. He couldn’t seem to shake the raw energy that hummed along the surface of his skin. Danny wasn’t the one he needed to worry about. Adam was the one who needed to stay the hell away from Callie. She was a siren, and he knew full well how dangerous she could be.