Love Song [Instrumental] (Hidden Springs #1)

25. Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-five

Danny burst through the kitchen door, full of energy from the morning music session and the mad dash back up the hill. Adam knew, in the logical, rational part of his brain, that he had once possessed that kind of energy, but he couldn’t remember it. Not viscerally.

He could, however, remember quite well how his mother used to yell at him and Evan for running in the house, running on the stairs, jumping in the kitchen, and generally bouncing off the walls. He now understood why people longed for their youth. It wasn’t about beauty or strength. It was about energy.

These days, he got his energy from coffee.

“How was music today?” he asked Danny.

“It was awesome! Callie played her awesome new song for me, and it’s…it’s just…”

“Awesome?” supplied Adam.

“Yeah, awesome. I can’t wait to hear her try it out at the diner. She said you can never tell with a song until you try it in front of a crowd.”

Adam nodded knowingly, as if he had a clue. What was he going to do if he couldn’t convince Callie to stay? He would need to beg Luke to take on the role of music teacher for Danny. It wouldn’t be the same, but at least the arrangement would preserve a link back to Callie. The problem was that both Danny and Adam wanted more than a tenuous connection to Callie. They wanted her here, with them, for the long haul.

Adam toyed with that thought as he helped Danny assemble his usual school-day breakfast of cereal and juice. He turned it over and around in his mind, considering it from all angles. What they had was so fragile. If she hadn’t walked away from success on her own, he could never have asked her to abandon her music career for this…thing that bound them together. But now he wouldn’t be asking her to give anything up. He would simply be asking her to stay.

For so long his own dream of an opposite life had been just that—a dream. Evan had been the lucky one. He had found Lainey early in his life and, for a brief time, made the dream a reality. Adam hadn’t been so lucky. He had found Callie too soon and figured it out too late.

Now he had a second chance. Callie was starting over. Why not start over with Adam? Her father had found a way to build a music career here in Hidden Springs. Callie could follow in his footsteps. All Adam needed to do was find the courage to ask.

Danny chattered as he ate, the floodgates now wide open, and Adam tried to focus on the here and now, on the boy in front of him. What mattered was Danny and the hearing. Adam’s dreams could wait a few more days. There was a moment of silence while Danny took a breath and a bite of cereal, and then he piped up again.

“I think we should ask Callie to stay,” Danny announced. He stated it as matter-of-factly as he could with his mouth full.

“What?” Adam choked on his own cereal. Since when could Danny read his mind? “Please don’t talk with your mouth full,” he said. Then he had to wait, impatient, while Danny finished chewing.

“I think we should ask Callie to stay,” Danny repeated, his mouth clear this time. “I don’t want her to go.”

Adam cleared his throat again, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not our decision to make. It’s her decision, and if she wants to go, we have to let her.” He ignored the tiny knife-twist in his gut. “I don’t want you to go either, but it’s not my choice. What if the judge thinks you should stay with your grandparents? Then you’re the one who will be leaving.”

“No, I won’t,” answered Danny, as if it were a done deal.

“How can you be sure?”

“Kat told me.”

Adam almost choked again. “She what?”

“She said that if I knew what I wanted, then I should speak up. That she would listen, and the judge would listen.”

Adam sputtered, questions tripping over each other in the rush to get out. He closed his mouth, marshaled his thoughts, and started fresh.

“So you know what you want?” he began. “You want to stay?”

“Yep.” Danny took another huge bite of cereal, serene, as if they were discussing the weather. Adam could feel his jaw start to clench.

“Were you planning on letting anybody know?” Once again, he had to wait for Danny to finish chewing.

“Well, yeah. Eventually.” Danny took another huge bite while Adam reeled from the combination of relief and frustration. He dropped his forehead into his hands, hoping that Danny wasn’t planning to drop any other bombshells today.

“So can we ask her?” Danny repeated.

“Callie?” Adam looked back up at Danny, feeling like he was one step behind in this entire conversation.

“Yeah,” said Danny .

Adam took a breath, carefully locking down his emotions.

“Sure,” he shrugged, poker face ready. “There’s no harm in asking.”

Danny paused in his chewing and cocked his head, looking at Adam oddly. Adam took a bite of cereal, despite the turmoil in his stomach. There was no reason for Danny to know how badly Adam wanted Callie to stay. Danny would never understand why his uncle suddenly felt like sprinting down to the lake and diving in—anything to release the tight coil of tension that used to be his stomach.

“Good,” said Danny abruptly, as if that settled the matter. “I’ll talk to her about it in the morning.”

“Sounds good,” said Adam, the coil tightening its grip. “Let me know what she says.”

Was it a cop-out to let Danny ask her? Maybe. But then again their chances might be better if the request came from him. Now that Danny was talking, he was pretty irresistible.

Maybe she would say yes. God, he hoped she would say yes. He wasn’t sure he could safely guide Danny through the next ten years on his own.

Callie had just stepped out of the shower when she heard the doorbell. At this hour of the morning, it was unlikely to be a delivery, but it might be Adam. She smiled, imagining all the different ways that she could greet him at the door. Her mother was up in the attic studio, totally absorbed in her painting. Her father was at work. However, she wasn’t willing to put on a show with the paparazzi in the neighborhood. She let her X-rated thoughts float away on a laugh. Any welcome would need to be rated G.

The morning’s music lesson had gone well. Maybe Adam wanted to check in on Danny’s progress. Hoping it was really him, she quickly dried off and threw on a bathrobe. The thick terry covered her completely, but should get him thinking about what might—or might not—be underneath.

Her damp curls bounced against her back as she padded down the stairs. So far so good. No groan of the UPS truck chugging back up the drive. Maybe it really was Adam. She hurried to the back door. Roscoe caught up with her in the mudroom. The sound of the bell must have disturbed his morning nap. He trailed along at her heels, but hung back growling when he reached the mudroom.

Not Adam.

Brian.

She had no opportunity to regroup or get dressed. She had already pulled open the back door and only the storm door separated them.

“Callie,” he drawled. “You’re looking fresh this morning.”

She swallowed, tried to get a grip. She refused to give in to the rush of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Clearing her throat, she pushed open the storm door.

“Brian, what a surprise.”

She didn’t move aside. She had no intention of welcoming him into her home. Roscoe tried to push past her, so she held him by the collar. As satisfying as it would be if Roscoe bit Brian, she wouldn’t give Brian yet another tool to use against her.

“You knew I would come for you,” he stated, as if it were a foregone conclusion. The scary thing was, he was right. She had known, deep down, that he would never let her leave without a fight.

“Actually, I was hoping we could be civilized about this.” Callie straightened up as much as she could while still keeping her grip on Roscoe.

Brian took a step forward, as if he could waltz right into the house. This would be the last time he took her acquiescence for granted.

“You can stay outside, thanks.”

Roscoe growled in support.

He gave her a tight smile and stepped back.

“Callie, I’m not going to have this discussion on the back steps. Am I coming in, or are you coming out?”

Talking to Brian was difficult enough without holding on to Roscoe the whole time. Besides, she didn’t want to drag her mother into this.

“I’m coming out.”

She took her time settling Roscoe down. Brian could wait. Luckily, there was clean laundry stacked on the washer in the mud room, so she ducked into the bathroom and threw on jeans and a t-shirt. Shoving her feet into a pair of flip-flops, she stepped out the back door. It was chillier than she had realized, her wet hair making it feel even colder, but she decided to gut it out. She wanted Brian gone.

Brian walked over to the truck and pulled open the passenger door.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he said. At the sound of his voice, Roscoe started barking from inside the house.

“We can talk right here,” she said. Better to deal with him on her own turf.

“Callie, it’s cold, and I can’t hear you over the damn dog. We need a quiet space to talk. The truck works fine. Let’s go.”

She debated her options, making him wait for an answer.

“Fine,” she agreed tersely. She couldn’t think or hear with Roscoe barking anyway. One last compromise wouldn’t change the outcome, and it would keep her feet from getting any colder.

She climbed into the passenger side of the rental truck and slammed the door, waiting for Brian to climb in on his side. They had spent a lot of time over the years riding from gig to gig together in a truck. It was the perfect place to end their relationship.

Brian started up the engine and slammed it in gear, pulling away from the house and roaring up the driveway. She fastened her seatbelt.

“So what’s left to talk about?” she asked.

“I heard about your new demo.”

“You heard it? How?” She didn’t like the idea that he had gotten his hands on it. She couldn’t even imagine how it was possible.

Brian laughed. “I didn’t need to hear it. I heard about it. You played that folksy, coffee-shop crap that you love so much—the stuff that will never sell.”

He smiled, and Callie, watching his face in profile, didn’t like the nasty feeling that came with it.

“Don’t worry,” he continued. “I’ll still take you back, even if everyone is laughing at you behind your back. You’re too useful to throw out because of one mistake. It’s a big mistake, granted, but I can overlook it.”

Callie held her breath until she had herself under tight control. Brian was poison, and she couldn’t listen to him. He hadn’t heard the demo. He had no idea what he was talking about. He only wanted to hurt her.

“How did you hear about the demo?” asked Callie, forcing her voice to be calm and even. If nothing else, she needed to know how he was following her life up here so closely.

He leaned over and popped open the glove box. Inside she found a stack of pictures and flipped through them. The ones at the top of the stack she already knew from the gossip web site, but the rest were new. Viewing them one by one was like watching a stop-motion movie of her life. There she was entering the radio station, then leaving with the demo CDs. There was even a close-up photo of one of Lucy’s posters advertising her special appearance .

“Oh my God, have you been stalking me?”

“What?”

In a moment of genuine surprise, Brian’s mask slipped and she glimpsed, briefly, the old Brian—the direct, driven guy he had been before the pursuit of fame changed him.

“I don’t have time for that.” He shrugged off her accusation like an autograph request from an unattractive fan, and the glimpse disappeared. “I hired a private investigator. He was more than happy to follow you around this month.”

She stared at him a long moment before it dawned on her. “Hutch,” she finally said. “You hired Larry Hutchinson.”

“That’s the one,” confirmed Brian, displaying no remorse whatsoever.

“But if you hired him,” she argued, “why did the pictures end up on the gossip site? Did Hutch sell you out?”

“I sent them.” He laughed at her stunned expression. “Free publicity, baby.”

She started to feel queasy. Was she that na?ve? Had she ever known Brian at all?

“So the pictures of you with the new girls?”

“Yeah, those too.” The smirk on his face was making her nausea worse.

Callie thumped her head back against the headrest and wondered how she could communicate with this stranger. She also started to wonder where the hell he was going on this ‘drive.’ Instead of sticking to the shore road, he was heading through town toward the highway.

“Where are we going?”

Brian didn’t answer, but his smirk faded.

“If you want to talk, then let’s talk,” she said, “but I’ve had enough of driving around.”

He still didn’t answer. The nausea in Callie’s stomach veered toward panic. She needed to get out of this truck.

“Brian, you can’t just kidnap me. ”

Ahead, past the picnic area, was the entrance to the highway.

“Brian. Listen to me.” She reached over to squeeze his arm. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop. We need to talk, not drive.”

His fingers tightened on the wheel. Callie’s breath stopped as he accelerated toward the entrance ramp.

“Brian—”

He slammed on the brakes and swerved. Her hands flew out to brace herself, one catching the dash and the other the door. The tires squealed as the truck fishtailed into the gravel parking lot and came to a halt in a cloud of dust.

Thankfully, the picnic tables were unoccupied.

Callie let go of his shoulder and slipped out of the truck. The stones in the gravel lot bit into her feet through the thin soles of her flip-flops, and the wind whipped her wet hair around her face, but she didn’t care. She was fine as long as she was out of that truck. She picked her way over to one of the weather-beaten tables and sat on top of it. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she waited for Brian to admit defeat.

It took about ten minutes.

At least, that was her guess. She didn’t have a watch. But after a long, cold eternity, Brian climbed out of the truck and walked slowly in her direction, his hands shoved into the back pockets of his jeans.

“The band needs you,” he admitted, unable to meet her eyes.

She smiled. “The band needs a babysitter. It doesn’t have to be me.”

“Who will write our new material?” He sounded like a whiny kid.

“There are lots of songwriters out there. You’ll find one you like. ”

“We keep all the music, you know. You don’t get to take it with you.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “You can keep it. I’m not going to fight for it.”

“Damn straight.”

“Unless you’re an asshole,” she warned, narrowing her eyes. “Then I might change my mind.”

That shut him up, for a minute anyway.

“I don’t understand why you would leave. Why now, when we’re about to break out?”

“You mean, apart from the fact that I can’t stand to live a lie anymore?”

“Yeah, apart from all our personal bullshit.”

Callie had to smile. He could dismiss their twisted ten-year relationship with the wave of a hand. It was their business relationship that he couldn’t imagine ending.

“I guess I’m sick of changing my music to fit the band, you know? I like that folksy crap that doesn’t sell.”

He gave a short, harsh laugh.

“You know,” he said, “I chose you because you were adaptable.”

She cocked her head to one side.

“What do you mean, you ‘chose me’?”

“I found you, at that open-mic night, and we talked for hours. Remember?”

She nodded.

“I wanted to start the band even then, but I needed someone practical, not some starry-eyed ‘artist’ planning to sacrifice success for the sake of the music. Someone real, who wanted to make a living in the business. Someone who would let the business drive the music and not the other way around. What’s the point if you’re not in it to win it?”

Callie kept nodding. There didn’t seem to be much point in arguing with him. All this time, she had thought they had a connection, flawed though it might be, when really she had been one more building block in his career plan. The truly scary part, the thing that made her worry about her future, was the fact that she had fallen for it in the first place.

Was her judgment really that bad?

“I thought that person was you,” he continued, unaware that her attention was wandering. “I thought I could count on you. And yet, here we are, ten years later, about to make it, and you’re blowing me off for the sake of the music.”

He seemed to be waiting for a response.

“It’s not just the music, Brian. It’s everything.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m a person, too. For ten years I’ve been living your dream. Now I’m going to live mine.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “We’ll see how that works out for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” she answered, her voice strong. For the first time in a long time, she felt strong.

They stared each other down, but neither gave any ground.

“I could ruin you,” he threatened.

“You could try,” she agreed, “and then I could ruin you.”

“Is that a threat?”

She smiled.

“It’s a simple statement of fact,” she observed. “As a courtesy, I sent a copy of my resignation to the record company attorneys. You’ll notice that I did not emphasize my role as the sole songwriter for the band.” She paused for effect, just as Adam had suggested. “That can change.”

Her smile widened when she saw his jaw tighten. Brian didn’t deal particularly well with insubordination. From her perspective, though, it felt pretty good.

“So we’re through, then,” he said.

“Looks that way.”

Finally they were getting around to the parting words. She was cold and really wanted to get back home .

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t expect any favors.” He turned on his heel and walked toward the truck. As he climbed in he called out, “And don’t come crawling back.”

Callie jumped to her feet as he started the truck and peeled out of the parking lot. By the time she realized what was happening, he had made the turn onto the highway ramp and was gunning the truck up to full speed. She watched him disappear into the distance, her mouth hanging open. He had left her on the side of the road, quite literally in the dust.

Jerk.

She picked her way back to the picnic table and sat down again, rubbing her arms to get some circulation going and ignoring the wind as best she could. She was mulling her options when a police car pulled into the parking lot and drew up alongside her. The officer rolled down the window. She laughed helplessly. Could things get any worse?

“Good afternoon, miss,” he drawled. “Everything all right here?” He removed his sunglasses and surveyed her summery attire, fighting a smile.

“Hi, Jack,” she said. There was no way she was going to call him ‘officer.’ “How’s Sally?”

“She gets into a lot less trouble these days. I wonder why that is?”

Callie narrowed her eyes.

“Maybe because her big brother leaves her alone?”

He laughed.

“Maybe because the James sisters left town?” he suggested, all innocence.

Callie pursed her lips. He was probably right about that one. They had gotten into plenty of trouble, and dragged poor Sally along every time.

“Possibly,” she admitted.

“You were expecting warmer weather for your picnic, Miss James? ”

“Ha. You don’t even know which sister I am.”

“Of course I do. Everyone knows that Callie—and only Callie—is back in town. I’m a cop, you know, and a highly skilled investigator.” He smirked. “In fact, if I use my detecting skills right now, I would say that you’ve been dumped by the side of the road. Angry boyfriend?”

“Ex,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

“Ah….” He leaned over and opened the passenger door. “In that case, hop in. I’ll give you a lift home. It’ll be just like old times.”

How many times had Jack driven Callie and her sisters home when they were teenagers? Her twelve-year-old self demanded that she stomp her foot and tell him to buzz off. However, her too-old-for-this-crap self was freezing her ass off. As annoying as Jack might be, he had wheels, and she needed a ride. So she climbed into the police car and let him drive her home.

Talk about full circle.