Page 106 of Bailey

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, reaching for her hand and gently drawing her out onto the front porch. “Are we ready for this?”

“No,” she said, that single word holding onto a little bit of grumpiness. “But my momma says the first time we do something is the hardest.”

She reached back and pulled her front door closed. “I felt like that when I first started getting to know OJ.”

Reeves sensed that she simply needed to talk, so he kept his hand in hers and went down her front steps at her side.

“I didn’t meet him until he was eight years old,” she continued. “He’d mailed me a birthday card, and…well, you’ve met him. He’s just about the sweetest thing in the world.” She sighed like being sweet was a bad thing.

“I remember walking up to his parents’ front door that first time.” She shook her head. “It was terrible. I was scared out of my mind.”

Reeves went around the truck and opened the passenger door for her. “But only walking up to the door, right?”

She climbed up and turned back to him. “Yeah, it’s just getting inside that’s hard. We had dinner, and he played the guitar for me, and it was totally fine. Fun, even.”

“Maybe church will be like that.” Reeves smiled at her, stepped in closer, and reached to slide his hand along the back of her neck.

She leaned down and met him halfway for a kiss, and everything in the world disappeared behind his closed eyes. There was only him and Bailey, and the longer he kissed her, the more vibrant a picture bloomed in his mind.

They’d have a big farm together, where they could have their dogs, and his goats, and maybe even a horse or two—if she brought one home from the clinic. She could grow her garden and keep working at her practice if she wanted, but they’d have kids that they’d both love and adore and take care of right here in Coral Canyon.

He pulled away, and the beautiful vision of his future disappeared as he opened his eyes. He wanted that small-town happiness, and to raise his kids with the gospel of Jesus Christ, with Bailey at his side.

To do that, he had to take this tough first step and get to church. So he moved to get behind the wheel and get through simply getting inside the chapel.

Twenty minutes later, Bailey nodded ahead. “It’s up there on the right,” she said. “I see the sign.”

Reeves caught sight of it a moment later. “Yep.”

Bailey had gotten the name and address of the church from Joey, who said she attended with Adam, Harry and Belle, and Bryce and Codi. Reeves pulled into the parking lot, everything in his life smoothing out when he saw Luke Young going around the back of his big brown SUV.

“Luke’s here,” he said, plenty of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, they live in Dog Valley.” Bailey switched her attention to him. “You were just at their house yesterday,” she added with a laugh.

Reeves grinned. “Yeah, I guess I just didn’t even think about it.”

“He lives up here, as do Gabe and Morris,” Bailey said. “I think everyone else goes to church down in Coral Canyon, where my parents attend.”

Reeves pulled into a parking spot a bit further down from Luke and across the aisle, and he looked over to Bailey. “We’ve got this.”

“Yes, we do.” Her confidence, feigned or not, got Reeves out of the truck, and he moved to her side to open her door and help her down.

She slid her hand into his immediately, her grip a little firmer than normal. Reeves didn’t mind at all, and they both fell silent as they walked toward the white building with the tall steeple on the front. The sunlight glinted off the stained glass windows above the door, and Reeves found something magical about them.

His nerves settled below his lungs and down out of his stomach, and he managed to go up the steps and into the church without a problem. A foyer opened up, with two sets of double doors flung wide open that led into the chapel. The sound of chatter and laughter and someone playing the piano filled the air. Reeves paused to take in the enormity of it.

The world continued somewhere, but for Reeves, everything had just turned slower, more peaceful. He didn’t need to worry about the hours of editing ahead of him, or the script for his next video, or how he would react if someone recognized him.

Right now he got to be anonymous, only visible to God—something he suddenly craved.

Bailey stepped forward, and Reeves went with her. They entered the chapel side-by-side, and while her steps slowed, she didn’t stop. Reeves saw men and women in their Sabbath Day best, with plenty of cowboys wearing their hats. Relief flooded him, though he’d once been berated verbally for wearing his hat in church as a teen.

All at once, Reeves realized why he’d fallen away from church attendance and joining himself to organized religion: he’d literally never had a good experience with it.

Confusion ran through him, because he did love God and spoke of Him often in his videos, and he didn’t know what to do with the complicated feelings braided through him.

“Let’s sit over here,” Bailey said, and Reeves stumbled after her as she took a seat about halfway toward the pulpit on the far left side. The chapel had a wide middle area full of pews as well, and then another shorter side on the right.