Page 113 of The Song We Lost

He squeezes my shoulder once more and steps around me, giving me space. Behind him Sadie is practically vibrating.

“Can we take a picture?” she blurts out.

Jackson laughs. “Of course.”

“So my daughter knows I met Jackson Reed,” she explains.

“That’s a good reason,” he agrees.

I take a moment to breathe, to collect myself. When I turn back toward the group I paste on a smile that feels bigger than it should. But it quickly shifts into something real as I take in Jackson interacting with my family.

A little of the pressure inside my chest has shifted. Noah steps up beside me and wraps me in a quick hug.

I whisper into his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He squeezes tighter.

“Anything for you, Bailey,” he murmurs. “I know things aren’t easy right now. I know you keep getting dragged through it.” He pulls back slightly, adding, “Anything we can do to make it easier.”

I relax into his hug, letting the familiarity in it comfort me. I smile as a tear slips free. I am here, I have support. I know what I need to do.

chapter 26

bailey

. . .

The food stretches across the harvest tables like Rose is trying to feed an army. Turkey carved onto platters. Bowls of stuffing and roasted vegetables. Cranberry sauce that Thomas insists is better because he made it himself. Fresh bread is still warm enough that steam curls when someone tears a piece open.

Lanterns hang from the barn beams just behind us, the sun slipping lower behind the mountains. The October air is colder than it was earlier, but the tables are full enough that no one seems to notice.

Jackson ends up across from me. He looks like he belongs here in a way that should feel strange.

A flannel shirt rolled to his elbows, resting casually on the table. His ball cap has been tossed beside him on the bench and he casually ran his hands through his dark hair and somehow it looks intentionally messy. Except he’s Jackson Reed.

You don’t become the kind of artist who sells out arenas and disappears into a harvest table unnoticed. And yet… somehow… he almost does.

Sadie is still staring at him like he might vanish if she looks away. I don’t think I have ever seen my sister star struck like this.

“So wait,” she says, leaning forward with both elbows on the table. “You actually slept on the tour bus bunks?”

Jackson smiles patiently.

“The whole month I toured with Bailey and for years before everyone knew my name.”

“I feel like that can’t be comfortable,” she insists.

“It depends on the driver,” he jokes with a wink.

Cole snorts quietly beside her. He could be jealous over his wife who is fawning over a man like Jackson. But he looks content, happy to bask in her joy.

Jackson glances around the tables, taking everything in slowly. The barn doors open behind us. The orchard stretches out beyond the lights. Rolling fields and mountains.

“This place is incredible,” he says finally. “I gotta ask… how have you managed to keep it secret?”

Thomas answers first. “Small town loyalty,” he says simply.

Rose nods beside him. “Most people around here watched Bailey grow up,” she adds. “And anyone who works on the property signs contracts tight enough to scare their momma’s.”