Chapter 37
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Bailey looked up from her phone as one song in the Country Quad holiday concert ended and a new one began—with a single guitar. Her phone fell to her lap as everything calm and peaceful moved through her.
The camera followed Harry Young, who currently strummed solo on his guitar as he walked slowly across the stage and positioned himself in front of the mic, where Bryce’s father had just been.
Bailey had always been a fan of country music, and Country Quad had been on her radar long before the Young brothers had started moving back to Coral Canyon and she’d met Bryce.
She still loved him with a tiny piece of her heart that she suspected would always belong to him, and she’d be forever tied to the Youngs through him—and OJ.
She loved that eleven-year-old boy with everything she had, and she was so glad that she and Bryce had been able to give him a really good life.
The life he deserved.
He’d texted her multiple times about watching the concert tonight as he would be playing, and Bailey had told him she wouldn’t miss it.
“Howdy, folks,” Harry said easily into the microphone, his eyes trained exactly into the camera. Bailey felt like he was looking straight into her soul; he was that charismatic and that connected through a lens.
He continued to strum quietly a tune Bailey didn’t recognize.
“I’m Harry Young, and I’m going to be taking over this segment of the show.
First, with my number one hit single from my first album, Going Rogue.
This song speaks of loss, of overcoming loss in such a way that you realize that the thing or person or whatever it is that you thought you needed, actually doesn’t have the power to make you sad anymore.
” He smiled and looked down at his guitar strings.
As he brought his head back up, tears filled Bailey’s eyes.
“It’s about healing and hope, and I thought it was perfect for this holiday season. So from me to you, and my family to yours, we want to wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”
Bailey had not heard Country Quad say any of that, and they had yet to play a holiday song, though they had a whole album of them.
“Here’s to hope, health, and happiness in the New Year,” Harry said, his smile absolutely devastating.
She wanted a small-town country boy like him with a big smile and loads of charm. She needed it to make up for her more serious and sour personality.
Harry’s guitar started to sing louder, and he leaned into the mic and said, “Here’s Taste of Home.” He played another riff and then started to sing.
Bailey heard the words with her ears, and she felt them drive deep into her soul.
Harry sang with such a beautiful voice, and he truly seemed sad about the things that he’d lost. And then, as he moved the ballad into a chorus about love, family, and home, his voice brightened, his entire countenance lit up, and Bailey found herself doing the same.
Her tears had dried up, and she smiled at the TV, which she had connected to the live broadcast to watch.
She’d been thinking about returning home for a long time now, but something always kept her in Butte—her successful veterinary practice, for one, and those were hard to build.
She’d dated on and off, but no one seriously for a while.
But she had friends and colleagues and contacts in the area, and she would have to redo all of that work if she chose to move now.
Still, something called to her from Coral Canyon, even from afar, and Bailey suspected she would end up there sooner rather than later.
The practical side of herself wanted to make a note in her phone to start planning the move or reaching out to others and planting feelers for how she could build her business there.
She absolutely would not live with her parents.
She was thirty-three years old, and doing so would feel like coming home with her tail tucked between her legs—a complete failure.
Harry finished the song, every note in exactly the right place, his fingers not missing a single spot on his guitar.
Bailey broke into applause right there, a one-woman standing ovation as she leapt from her couch.
They definitely had a crowd at Bryce’s ranch, and they whooped and cheered for Harry too.
Then he turned, and the camera switched to a wider lens, showing the whole stage, as Belle, his beautiful fiancée, walked toward him.
She wore a denim skirt and a brown leather top with a horse embossed into it.
She truly looked like the Wyoming wife of Harry Young, and he received her easily into his side, his arm curling around her waist as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“And now,” he drawled into the microphone as the camera tightened in on him again.
“My beautiful fiancée, Belle Graves, and I are going to play a song that we wrote together. That’s what I do now—I write songs, and some of them I keep for me or Belle, a few for both of us, and some we sell to other artists.
” He grinned at her as the camera panned out, showing the horses behind the stage and the vastness of Wyoming beyond that, and she sickenly-sweetly smiled back at him.
“But this one should finally get us in the holiday mood.”
While they’d been in close on Harry, someone had set a mic up for Belle, and Harry sat on a stool to bring their heights closer together.
She stood at his side, beaming like a shiny new penny.
Then Harry started to play a very familiar tune—Jingle Bells.
Belle sang through the verse in her lower, raspier voice, and Harry came in on the chorus, the two of them melding their voices together into one rich harmony that made it sound like they truly were made for each other.
Simply looking at them, Bailey knew they were. She’d been invited to Harry’s wedding. She honestly wasn’t sure if she would go, while at the same time, she wasn’t sure how she could miss it. He’d been nothing but kind to her every moment of his life, and Bailey loved and appreciated Harry as well.
Her phone chimed, but she didn’t turn back to the couch to pick it up.
“Sing along with us now,” Harry said on the final chorus, and Bailey did exactly what he said, for Harry Young could not be ignored.
When that song finished, Belle leaned in and kissed his cheek and then turned to leave the stage. She passed Bryce, who gave her a high five as he sauntered onto the stage as if he was born to be there, which, of course, he was.
He’d never had a solo career the way Harry had, though he could have.
He had traveled plenty with Country Quad over the years, singing duets with his daddy while the other band members got breaks.
He and Harry were obviously doing that tonight for their fathers, which only made them more endearing to Bailey.
“Merry Christmas,” Bryce bellowed into the microphone. Bailey clasped her hands together and held them in front of her heart for this man she’d practically fallen for at first sight. He was so charming and so sweet, so smart and so good.
Bailey had struggled for years thinking she had corrupted him into sleeping with her before they were married, and it had taken a lot of therapy for her to move past those dangerous and damaging feelings.
She’d once begged God to allow them to be made for each other, and that had taken her a long time to get over as well—the fact that they simply weren’t.
He was married now, and he’d just had a baby, and Bailey felt nothing but joy and sunshine as she looked at him on the screen.
“I’m Bryce Young,” he said. “And Harry and I are going to play a song from his second album.” He gave no more introduction, and instead, their guitars sang together for several long moments of intricate plucking until Harry finally started singing.
The song was more upbeat, almost something Bailey would hear a fiddle and a ukulele and a guitar play together at a small-town dance on a summer evening.
Bryce and Harry went together like peanut butter and jelly, their voices perfectly unique and coming together into something combined that was wonderful and gorgeous.
The song talked about drinking too much and having too good a time and not caring till Sunday morning, when they’d ask for forgiveness.
Bailey loved this song, as she’d often lived her life as a Sunday-only believer, but recently, she’d been trying to take Christ’s teachings into her everyday life and live them all the time—the way she knew Harry did and Bryce did.
That song ended, and both Harry and Bryce looked to the right.
Bryce and Belle had come off the left side of the stage, and Bailey pulled in a breath because she suspected OJ would come out next.
The camera pulled back again, and Bryce leaned in and said, “And now for the country music debut of the next generation of Youngs.”
“Wait,” Harry said. “I thought we were the next generation of Youngs.” He and Bryce both chuckled. Bailey wondered if it hurt any part of Bryce to see his own son come on the stage and not call him that.
“I guess you’re right,” Bryce said. “He’s part of our generation.
I’m just so much older than him.” He chuckled, but Bailey did not.
She sank back onto the couch, her heart pounding now for some reason.
She remembered her phone had chimed, but she still didn’t reach for it, because Bryce said, “We want to welcome to the stage Otis—Judson—Yooooooooung!”
He held on to the last name as OJ ran out, and there was her darling little boy, the one she’d given up for adoption.
OJ had the same shaped nose as Bryce, but his hair was lighter, and his eyes definitely belonged to Bailey.
He’d grown up with the Youngs, so he had their mannerisms and their way of speaking, and a perfectly heighted mic stood between Bryce and Harry.
“Howdy, fellas,” he said into it.
“Tell ‘em who you are,” Harry said, grinning for all he was worth.
OJ looked straight at the camera, and with all the enthusiasm of an eleven-year-old boy, he said, “I’m OJ Young, and I’m real excited to be here with you this holiday season.”
Tears ran down Bailey’s face, even as she smiled. The scene in front of her was everything she’d ever wanted for him, and a new sense of comfort and peace washed over her.
You don’t need to worry about him anymore. The thought lingered in her mind as Bryce explained that they were going to play a song that Otis had written for the three of them.
“You’ve been practicing, OJ?” he asked.
“Every day, Bryce,” he said. “My daddy don’t let up about that.”
“Oh, I bet he doesn’t,” Harry said.
The three of them grinned at one another, and then Bryce nodded to OJ, who started to play first. Bailey wiped her tears and caught him swallowing.
While watching her beautiful boy, she whispered a plea for him.
“Bless him, Lord,” she said. “Not to be nervous and not to make a single mistake, and help him know that I’m watching him—and that I love him. ”
Harry came in on the next measure, and he and OJ played beautifully together with Harry’s guitar complementing OJ’s and letting him stay in the lead.
Bryce came in behind them both, and then Harry leaned forward and started to sing.
He was definitely stronger at that than Bryce, and Bailey had seen OJ play and sing before, and his voice wouldn’t be as powerful and as refined as Harry’s.
She picked up her phone and found that the text that had come in had been from him. He’d said, I’m up soon. I’m so excited and nervous.
She quickly tapped out a message: I am watching you right now, and you are brilliant and beautiful and doing such a good job!
She sent that text, and then raised her phone and took a shot of the three of them all looking at the camera just as OJ started to sing.
She took a few more, his higher voice among those deeper ones of his cousins.
When the song ended, she sent him that picture and a whole text full of heart emojis.
OJ loved using emojis in his texts, when she hoped Otis would show him those texts the moment he could.
She clapped along with the crowd and then sank back into the couch, her heart fuller than ever.
“All right, let’s get everyone back out here,” Harry yelled, having done four songs and given Country Quad a good fifteen-minute break.
They flooded onto the stage again, along with Belle, and with the eight of them out there, Tex said, “This will be our last song, and then we wish everyone the happiest and merriest of Christmases, no matter where you are or who you’re with, may the Lord be with you.”
“And now I give you,” he looked down the line at everyone and back to Luke. “A brand new song written by Otis for the eight of us, because sometimes it takes quite the journey before you find a place to call home.”
He looked right into the camera, all of that Young charisma shining through him. “I give you, The Journey Home.” He moved to the neck of his guitar, and all eight of them, from the four Country Quad members to Harry and Bryce and Belle and OJ, came in together.
The song definitely reminded Bailey of the country rock that Country Quad was known for.
She couldn’t believe that they did this kind of stuff for free, and she pulled her laptop closer and did a search for the website that Adam had talked about at the beginning of the broadcast. Her clinic was doing very well, and she could definitely donate to horse rescue operations, one of which was in Montana.
She did that just as the song ended, and then Adam Harmon came back on stage as everyone else ran off, and he said, “Well, folks, wasn’t that the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?
” He spread his arms wide, as if gathering the whole world together, and then brought his hands together into a loud clap.
“The website to donate should be on your screen right now.” It popped up.
Bailey smiled at how flawless this presentation had been.
“Remember, we’ve got three organizations matching you dollar for dollar, and we’d really love to give as much as we can to rescue these great equines in Wyoming and Montana.
“No matter if you can’t give or if you give a lot, we appreciate you being here and listening. We appreciate your donations—and as Tex said, Merry Christmas and may the Lord be with you.” He grinned for the next three seconds until the screen went dark and the broadcast ended.
Bailey sat there in the new silence in her home, feeling like she lost some of her best friends with the ending of that concert.
And then the voice of the Lord whispered to her, You could see them all if you lived in Coral Canyon.