Chapter 19
19
T ex stood at the back window in his bedroom, the one that faced west and looked out over the ranch. The deck had been finished yesterday—sealed and ready for use—and the foundation for the new barn-slash-recording-studio had been dug the day before that.
The huge cement trucks had come yesterday, all while he looked for horses online. He and Bryce had done a metric ton of work around the ranch and farmhouse in the past couple of months, and his son would start senior year in just two more weeks.
He’d decided he didn’t have to do so much anymore. He’d hired someone to finish the floor in the basement so it was level, and then he’d order carpet for the family room down there, as well as the bedrooms, and tile for the bathroom.
The progress on the walk-out part of the basement was still happening, and then Tex would be done with the house. It looked completely different than it had when he and Bryce had stopped by, almost three months ago.
It was a different color, with a new roof that shone like motor oil in the sunshine. The barn would be the same, and Tex could only pray that when King Country called, he’d be able to convince them to let him and his brothers record right here on the property.
It would be ideal for everyone. The arguments he’d been amassing in his head started again, and Tex turned away from the three men outside, all of them working to organize the lumber they’d use to frame. The concrete foundation had to cure for at least seven days, and that was seven more days Tex was behind.
Anxiety built beneath his tongue no matter how hard he tried to swallow. He picked up his phone from the nightstand where it was plugged in and yanked out the power cord. He looked at the screen as it brightened, a picture of him and Bryce grinning at the camera meeting his eyes.
Bryce had gone fishing with a couple of the Hammonds—Hunter and Gray and Wes, if Tex remembered right. He’d enjoyed teaching the guitar lessons that summer, and he was really good with kids. His son would excel in music, Tex knew that.
He sank onto the bed. “I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes I did.” He tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “Please, Lord. Don’t let him make the same mistakes I did.”
When Tex looked at his phone again, the time had come to make the call he’d been dreading for a week now. Otis has been in Louisville for the past four days, and every message from him told Tex they were getting closer and closer to recording.
He tapped and found Taylor’s name. He practically punched the phone to get it to dial, and then he lightly tapped the speakerphone, feeling wild and nervous beyond anything he’d felt in the past several years.
Maybe not as nervous as he’d been to talk to Corrie about Bryce moving in with him, and oh, then the two of them leaving Boise. Both of those had darn near put Tex in the hospital. But he’d done them, because Bryce needed him to be his champion, and Tex wanted to be that protective father for his son.
This was no different.
“Tex Young,” Taylor said with a laugh. “How’s my favorite country music Rockstar?”
Tex grinned too, because his agent always made him feel like the most important person in the word. “Just fine, Taylor,” he said. “You?”
“Oh, I’m gettin’ by,” Taylor said. “I heard from Otis yesterday. He says things are going well with Larry at King Country.”
“Yeah, I heard the same thing,” Tex said, getting up from the bed and pacing back over to the door. He wished the barn he’d imagined and had sketched by a contractor stood there, ready for cowboys who could sing, instruments, and music producers.
“So why are you calling me?” Taylor asked, never one to drag things out.
Tex sighed, and somehow all of his nerves dried up. “I can’t record in Nashville this time, Taylor. I need you to do something about the contract that will allow us to record here in Coral Canyon.”
Taylor didn’t say anything, and Tex didn’t like that. He felt like he needed to fill the silence with more explanation, but he held his tongue.
“I’m pulling up your contract now,” he said. “Let’s see what it says. They don’t often say where something needs to be recorded, only that it does….”
“I’m building a recording studio on the land I bought at the beginning of the summer,” Tex said. “I’ll do it to their specifications. I’ll meet with them to get those, go over what they need, all of it. But it won’t be done right away.”
“How long?” Taylor asked.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Tex said. “We’ll need to talk to them about equipment and whatnot.”
“They’ll have to fly their sound engineers out there.”
“It’s a trade-off,” Tex said, his argument for that ready to fly from the tip of his tongue. “They’d fly us all to Nashville to record. So they’ll fly a few people here instead.”
“Mm.” Taylor was probably reading, so Tex let him do that, pressing his eyes closed into the silence and praying that the contract didn’t specify that the album had to be recorded in Nashville. “All right, Tex.” Taylor let out a long breath. “There’s no stipulation in the Country Quad contract that says you have to record at the King Country studios.”
A smile burst onto Tex’s face. “Perfect.” Heaven had smiled on him, and Tex tilted his head back and thanked the Lord silently.
“You have clauses about producers and sound engineers, and as you know, they don’t usually work on one album at a time. A few hours each day, right?”
“Yeah,” Tex said, moving his gaze outside again. “I’ll talk to them. If I know the contract, I can talk to Meryl.” His producer had been a Godsend for Country Quad, and Tex didn’t want to burn any bridges. He simply couldn’t afford to light the ones he’d built here in Coral Canyon on fire either. The casualties would be far too high. Bryce’s and Abby’s faces both flashed through his mind, and he couldn’t lose either one of them. Not again.
“It’ll be expensive for them to send their big wigs up to Wyoming and spend their time only with you.”
“I hear you,” Tex said. “What else won’t they like?”
“Where are they going to stay in Coral Canyon?”
“I can work out accommodations,” he said. Or Mav could. Morris could. They’d all found places to stay that summer, and there seemed to be plenty of rentals in Coral Canyon.
“How long will the album take?”
“I don’t know. Otis is working on that.”
“The two of you should go in there with a plan,” Taylor said. “Heck, all four of you. Are your brothers on-board with this idea?”
Tex didn’t answer, because he couldn’t. “I’ll talk to them,” he finally said.
“Mm hm,” Taylor said. “I’m going to email you the contract for these last three albums. That’s what we’re operating from right now. Then you’ll have it if you need it.”
“Yes, sir,” Tex said, though he relied on his agent to negotiate the contracts and understand what was in them.
“And Tex,” Taylor said. “Lisa at King Country called me last week, wanting to know what the band’s plans were. They’re interested in more albums.”
Tex turned around and walked away from the windows. “That’s great,” he said.
“It sounds like you’re not going to be traveling much anymore,” Taylor said. “So is it great?”
“There might be a different version of the band,” Tex admitted. “What that is, I don’t know.”
“You’re their star.”
“Right now,” Tex said with a frown. He opened his bedroom door and left the room. “There are others who could be stars.”
“All right,” Taylor said with some level of doubt. “Just so you know where they’ll be coming from.”
“Thank you, Taylor.” Tex hung up and paced the length of the kitchen a couple of times. He’d just had one hard conversation, and he had at least one more to get through. Probably two or three or four.
“Start with one,” he said, and he got back on his phone to the band group text. His fingers flew, and surprisingly, it only took two minutes and four paragraphs to spell out what he wanted to do with the barn he was building out back.
He read over the message and fixed a couple of typos, took a deep breath, and sent it.
He immediately navigated away from that string, which would blow up in a matter of seconds, he was sure, and called Abby.
“Howdy,” she drawled at him, clearly smiling and flirting with him.
A smile came to his face again. “Howdy yourself,” he said back. “Wondering if you’re free for dinner tonight.”
“As a matter of fact,” she said, and Tex tensed for a rejection. “I am.”
He sighed, his smile still stuck in place. “Great,” he said. “Out or in?”
“Let’s go out,” she said.
“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll swing by your place about six, okay?”
“Okay.”
That wasn’t Tex’s hard conversation with Abby—that would come that evening when he took her to dinner. He said, “Bye, Abs,” and ended the call. Ignoring the swarming bees in his stomach and the band group text, he instead called Bryce.
“Hey, Dad,” his son said after three or four rings. “Sorry, I nearly dropped my phone in the lake.” He chuckled, and Tex did too. He wanted to be everything for his son, and he couldn’t believe he’d ever chosen something different.
“Okay, don’t freak out,” he said. “But we need to go to Nashville before school starts. I want to take them the things we’ve been working on this summer. We can play for them, show them the music, even make a few demos before we go if you want. I want to introduce you around, and—” His throat tightened, and Tex cleared it. “And I have to figure out how to get them to let us record here, in Coral Canyon.”
Bryce took a moment, and then he said, “Okay. When are we going?”
“I’m going to call them right after this and set something up for next week. Could be as early as Monday.”
“All right.”
“Bryce.” Tex had so much to say, and no words to put his feelings into.
“I know, Dad,” his son said quietly. A few seconds went by, and then he said, “You’ll find a way to make it work,” in a bright voice. “You always do.”
“I’m going to try,” Tex said with only misery flowing through him. “I really am.”
“You’ll get what you want,” Bryce said. “It’s your superpower.” He laughed, and that helped lighten the mood.
“Love you, son,” he said.
“Love you too, Dad.”
With that done, Tex dialed Meryl in Nashville, knowing he’d get the man’s secretary. Sure enough, Jason answered with, “Meryl Osbourne’s office. How can I help you?”
“Jason,” Tex boomed, hoping to come across as upbeat and positive. “It’s Tex Young.”
“Tex!” Jason burst out laughing and said, “We were literally just talking about you ten minutes ago.”
“I need to get down there and talk to Meryl,” he said. “When can we make that happen?” He faced the fridge, where a small calendar sat, the picture of the real estate agent who’d dropped it off in the corner. Tex had no plans, and as long as he could get Bryce back here before the first day of school, he’d do whatever Jason said.
“How about Tuesday?” Jason said. “We just talked to Otis today too, but I think he’s headed home for the weekend.”
“Is he?” Tex asked. “I’ll have to check my messages. Those boys in the band send so many, I have that string on silent.” He forced a chuckle out of his mouth as another call came in.
He pulled the phone away from his ear to see who it was as Jason confirmed a meeting with the music producer on Tuesday at ten-thirty only to see Otis’s name.
Tex swallowed and went back to his call. “Tuesday at ten-thirty,” he said. “Jason, I’ll have my son with me. We want to talk about Country Quad and our next album, of course. But Bryce and I have some stuff to show Meryl.”
“I’ve got you down,” Jason confirmed without giving Tex any grief at all about bringing Bryce and new music. That call ended, and Tex was almost done with the things he had to do before talking to Abby that evening.
Gathering his courage, he held it close and tapped to open the group text again. As he’d predicted, everyone in the band—including Morris—had responded multiple times. He scanned quickly, seeing several positive responses, including one from Morris that said, I’d love to be closer to Mama and Daddy. Make it happen Tex!
“Yeah,” Tex whispered to himself. If he could just wave a magic wand and make things happen, his anxiety wouldn’t have eaten a hole in his stomach.
His phone rang again, and this time, Tex answered the call from Otis with, “Sorry, I was on the phone with Jason, scheduling a meeting for next week.”
“Oh, boy,” Otis said with a chuckle. “Catch me up with what’s goin’ on inside your head, brother.”
Tex took a big breath, because there was so much to tell. “All right,” he said with a smile, exhaling out that breath. “But you asked for it.”
When Abby opened the door at her place later that evening, Tex’s spirits already soared somewhere above Coral Canyon. She stepped back and finished putting in her right earring, and Tex couldn’t move though he wanted to.
She wore a forest green dress with short sleeves and a wide leather belt around her waist. The hem of the dress fell to her knees, and she wore a pair of cowgirl boots with it, no colored stitching in sight.
“Evening, Tex,” she drawled, and that seemed to thaw him.
“You are gorgeous,” he said, the words scraping his dry throat. He stepped into her house then, knowing Wade wasn’t home. He’d seen the man leave, freshly showered and dressed for his own Friday-night date, a half-hour ago.
Tex closed the door with the heel of his cowboy boot and took his girlfriend into his arms. He barely had time to inhale properly before he kissed her. She melted into his touch, and he sure did like that. He liked the way she pressed into him, and the shivers her fingernails sent scattering across his shoulders.
He liked the way she tasted like milk and honey—she’d probably eaten her favorite treat, graham crackers soaked in milk—and he liked the heady scent of her perfume in his nose every time he inhaled.
“Tex,” she whispered as she gently pushed him back. She searched his face, and he let her. “Good day?”
“Yes,” he said, grinning and swooping down for another kiss. “You? Or did you have to have your graham crackers after work to soothe something?”
She giggled as he moved his mouth along the column of her neck. “It was an okay day. Nothing too bad.”
“You just like graham crackers.”
“Guilty,” she said, pulling in a breath when his lips tasted her earlobe. “You’re handsy tonight.”
“I missed you.” He did slide his palms along her waist as he stepped back, a hint of humiliation pulling his head down. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she said. “How could you miss me? You came over this morning and helped with the chickens.”
Tex turned away from her, too many dangerous things in the back of his throat. He was good at hiding how he felt, but he needed a moment to cage it all away. “Maybe I want to be with you all the time.” He opened the door and went out onto the porch, where more oxygen cleared his head.
Abby joined him, her hand slipping into his. “What’s got you so happy?”
“Talked to Otis today,” he said, leading her down the steps. “He wasn’t surprised when I told him Bryce and I have been working on some music I want to try out on the new album.” He didn’t dare look at her, not yet.
“That’s good,” she said after a beat of silence, her voice pitched up. He opened her door and met her eyes then. She drew strength into herself and climbed up, her jaw clenching and unclenching in time with her pulse.
Tex rounded the truck and got behind the wheel, some of his euphoria fading. “I talked to our producer in Nashville,” he said as he started the ignition.
“So you’re going to Nashville,” she said, some resignation in her voice.
“I mean, yeah,” Tex said. She knew that. She’d always known that.
“When?”
“Monday,” he said.
“We can help with Bryce,” she said.
“I don’t need you to help with Bryce,” Tex said, confused. “He’s coming too.” He looked at her as he backed out of her driveway, but she’d trained her eyes out her window, her arms clenched across her middle.
“When are you coming back?” she asked once he pointed them toward town and started driving.
“Uh…I don’t know.”
She sighed, and Tex didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”
“If you have no plan to come back, that means you’re not coming back.”
“Yes, I am,” he said, suddenly realizing what she was upset about. He hadn’t imagined this conversation going down this track at all. “Bryce is starting school in a couple of weeks. We’ll be back before then.”
“So you’re not recording?”
“Not on this trip,” he said. “Hopefully not in Nashville at all.”
She swung her attention toward him. “What does that mean?”
“It means, sweetheart.” He grinned at her, hoping she’d lighten up. “That I’m going to try to get our producer to agree to let us record the album here in Coral Canyon.”
Abby’s eyes went wide, her surprise radiating off of her the same way Tex had heard it in his brother’s voice earlier. “Here?” Then she went right for his jugular when she asked, “Where are you going to record here ?”