Page 28 of July's Bad Boy: Blaze

"Just Olivia. Something about her grandmother sending a strange message." She sets the phone down. "I'll check on her tomorrow."

Pulling her closer, I breathe in the scent of her hair. I thought music was my life. Turns out life is making music where it matters. And that's right here. With her.

CHAPTER 10

GRACE

I stand in Ruby's living room, arranging a plate of Ruby's oatmeal cookies while Blaze... Blake… hangs a hand-painted "Welcome Home, Orville" banner across the back wall. The smell of fresh coffee mingles with the scent of Pine-Sol from the morning's cleaning frenzy.

"Think we overdid it?" I ask, surveying the transformed space. Every surface gleams. Flowers from gardens across Mustang Mountain brighten each table. A mountain of casseroles fills the kitchen counter.

Blaze steps back to admire his handiwork. "Impossible to overdo anything for Orville."

Ruby emerges from the back of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "He's going to hate all this fuss."

"Which is exactly why we're doing it," I say, adjusting a stack of napkins.

So much has changed in just a few weeks. And yet, somehow, it feels more like home than ever. The house buzzes with anticipation as townspeople filter in, bearing more food and small gifts.

"They're here!" someone shouts from the window, and a hush falls over the crowd.

We spill onto the sidewalk as Jensen and Jonas, Ruby's nephews who lived with Ruby and Orville, pull up. Ruby rushes forward, her hands fluttering nervously at her collar. Blaze follows, ready to help, while I hang back with the others, giving the family space.

The driver opens the side door, and there's Orville, looking smaller but with the same sharp eyes and wry smile that define him.

"Well, look at this," he says, as Blaze helps him from the truck, his voice gruff but strong. "All this commotion and I missed the real excitement."

The town laughs, tension breaking like ice on the spring creek.

Blaze steps forward, helping Orville toward the front door. "Don't worry, Orville. I recorded all the highlights. Even got footage of Six and Arrow singing karaoke."

"Now that's worth that horrible hospital food to see," Orville chuckles, reaching out to clasp Blaze's hand. The gesture is brief but meaningful. It’s acceptance.

Ruby fusses around them both, directing people out of the way as Blaze walks with Orville into the house. I watch them, this makeshift family that somehow works perfectly. Blaze catches my eye over Orville's head and winks. He belongs here now, not as the reluctant visitor or the celebrity outsider, but as part of the fabric of Mustang Mountain. He’s right where he belongs, here with family.

Inside, Orville holds court from his recliner in the living room, regaling everyone with hospital stories, each one more crazy than the last. I serve coffee and listen to the laughter, to the sound of a community healing itself.

"He's going to be fine," Ruby says, appearing at my elbow with an empty cookie plate.

"Of course he is. He's too stubborn not to be."

She smiles, the worry lines around her eyes softening. "Thank you, Grace. For everything."

"I didn't do anything special."

"You brought him home," she says, nodding toward Blaze, who's showing Orville something on his phone, both of them laughing. "Maybe not intentionally, but you did."

I want to protest that Blaze made his own choices, that I was just in the right place at the right time, but I know what she means. Sometimes we're catalysts for change without realizing it.

"Well," I say instead, "he's not going anywhere now."

Ruby's smile widens. "No, I don't think he is."

Later that afternoon, I sit on my porch swing, feet tucked under me, watching the clouds drift over the mountains. Blaze appears at the bottom of the steps, two bottles of beer in hand.

"Room for one more?" he asks.

"Always."

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