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“I guess I didn’t want anyone to see me fail,” I say. “Plus, it’s really embarrassing to post online.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” she says. “But still, that’s a lot going on.”

Silence… God, it’s agonizing.

“You alright, Coen?” Jamie asks.

He clears his throat. “Reckon you two should catch a plane out of here when you have a chance. Sounds like we should talk.”

My heart sinks. He’s angry, I can tell.

“Okay,” I say quickly. “I have another day here at the studio, then we can come back.”

Jamie holds out his hand for the phone. “Mind if I take that for a second?”

Cowed, I hand it over, and he rises, leaving the room. I don’t know why, but I feel like I did something wrong and I’m in trouble. It’s putting a huge damper on my good mood, sending me spiraling. Is there something Coen knows? Is Jamie wrong about his assessment? Am I going to fuck up my sister’s relationship?

I take a deep breath.

Damn, I haven’t spiraled like this in a while.

Leaning against the headboard, I try to sit perfectly still, the way I did when I was little and Dad was upset over something. He was never an angry man, but on the rare occasion he did get riled up, it felt like the world was ending, even though he never stayed angry long. Still, I go from being on top of the world to the verge of tears.

I get up, pacing across the room to the window.

Jamie stands in the yard, phone to his ear. This reminds me of when Coen took Dad out to talk over their differences. Dad wasn’t a fan of Coen at first; he didn’t trust him. When they showed up after their unsanctioned trip to Nashville, Dad and Coen went into the yard and talked for a long time. I have no idea what Coen said, but after that, everything was pretty smooth.

They’re both smart: Coen and Jamie. If anyone can figure this out, it’s them.

I sniff, swiping my face. I don’t know why I’m teary. My chest is shaky, like I just got jump-scared, and I don’t like it. Jamie swipes the phone and comes back, the front door banging, but not in an angry way. Footfalls move up the steps, and he appears in the doorway.

“Hey, baby, you okay?” he says.

I want to nod, but I can’t, so I shrug, helpless. He comes to the edge of the bed and takes my hand.

“Hey, everything is gonna be just fine,” he says evenly.

“Is Coen upset because of what happened to him?” I whisper. “Or something else?”

He thinks. “I think Coen is cautious, but I told him the truth.”

“What is the truth?” My voice wavers.

He takes his shoes off and pulls me into his arms, sinking back against the headboard.

“That you’ll be just fine because I’ll be there for all of it,” he says, voice rumbling in the most comforting way. “And we’re going home the day after tomorrow.”

“Home?”

“The ranch.”

Exhausted, I rest my cheek on his shoulder. I was hoping they’d have a better reaction to my news, but it was a net negative. At least Coen didn’t try to chase Jamie away, which is what I expected. That’s what Dad will do, probably. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

We fall asleep, all tangled up. I wake late with a twinge in the side of my neck and the faint smell of buttered toast in the air. Peeling myself up, I get through the shower, pull on a hoodie and leggings, and head to the kitchen. Jenna is perched on the counter, a steaming mug of tea in hand. Jamie and Rita are at the table with coffee. They’re all in a lively conversation, like old friends.

“Hey, baby,” Jamie says, glancing up.

Suddenly shy, I come to his side. “Sorry, I should have texted that Jamie was here.”