Silently, I beg my mind to hold me forever in this place. To never let me leave. I don’t think it’s possible to live in that world, though, without losing your mind. So, my body betrays me as it brings me back to earth. Beau holds me tight as my senses return.
“Jesus,” he murmurs. I couldn’t agree more.
twenty-one
BEAU
You would think leavingHarmony at the bus the day after the concert would be the worst thing I would ever do.
In reality, it wasn’t that bad. I know she’ll be here the moment the tour wraps up, which gives me something to look forward to. Besides, she rode me so hard and so often that night that I woke up sore. My abs needed a rest. Not complaining, just stating a fact.
I’ve got my hands full anyway. The Ross kid worked well while I was in Dallas, so I’ve hired him on the weekends to help around the ranch. It frees me up a little to get some things done before Harmony comes home.
Jesus, I never thought someone would think of me as their home. I plan to be the best damn home she could ever hope for. It’s why I’m walking into the library on a Friday afternoon.
“Beau Rayburn!” Austen, the head librarian, exclaims. “I haven’t seen you in a hot minute. Heard you’ve been keeping busy.” She elbows me in the ribs.
I’ve only known Austen as the librarian even though she grew up here too. Her older sister, Eliot, was a freshman when I wasa senior, I think. I remember something about her being pretty smart.
“Hey, Austen. I see the rumor mill is continuing to spin.”
“Small towns,” she answers with a shrug. “What can you do?”
“That’s why I’m here actually. Travis gave me the number for your younger sister. Something about her husband being a contractor or such? Anyway, it seems weird calling her up. I thought you might have his number?”
“I can do you one better. They’re in town this week, just go bang on their door. They live in that old house the Harrels owned when we were kids. The one with the porch on the front down from the Catholic church,” she says.
“Yeah, I know it. I don’t want to bug them though.”
“You’re not going to bug them. Besides, a little bugging will do Brontë good. What are you doing anyway?”
“Some remodeling, but I need plans done.”
“Oooh, is it for Harmony?” she asks. I can’t stop the smile when I hear her name. “Good for you,” she adds, thwacking my stomach. “Hey, if you need any landscaping too, give Reed a call. I’ll grab his card for you.” She flits off to her office.
I forgot she married Reed Campbell. All I really remember of him in high school was he was a hell of a baseball player. Seems like the girls were all giggling over him in the halls too.
“Here you go,” she says, reappearing by my side. I take the proffered card and slide it into my shirt pocket. I can’t imagine needing landscaping at the ranch, but you never know. “Let me know if you need anything else.” With a small wave, she walks toward a group of giggling girls at one of the tables.
Staring up at the house Austen’s sister owns from the seat of my truck takes me by surprise. It takes some effort to remember what it looked like when I was a kid. The remodel is epic.
I might as well get this meeting over with. I’m not sure they’ll take the job since it’s so small, but I won’t know if I don’t ask.
“Hi,” a stunning woman says, opening the door before I’m even halfway up the steps. “I’m Brontë, and this is Keats,” she says, referring to a toddler clutched in her arms. “Austen just called and said you were heading this way. I knew Travis in school, and I remember something about an older brother, but that seems like a lifetime ago.”
“Beau,” I say, introducing myself.
“That’s right. Well, please come in, Beau. Rand is trying to wrap up a phone call in his office. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?”
“No, ma’am. I’m fine.”
“Okay then. Have a seat, and Rand will be right out. If you’ll excuse us, I need to get Keats his afternoon snack. He just woke up and gets grumpy like his dad if he doesn’t get something to eat.” She pushes into the kitchen, and I’m left on my own in their living room. Which looks like something out of a magazine.
I move to the fireplace to study the rockwork. This would be a nice touch in the living room. Get rid of the old brick one.
“Sorry about that,” a man says, stepping out of a door. “I’m Rand. Austen said something about some design work you need done.”
“Yes, I’d like to build a music studio, but it needs more than just some construction.”
