Mayfly Melodies

Thirty-Two

Bailey

True country music is honesty, sincerity, and real life to the hilt—Garth Brooks

She was burning up.

Bailey opened her eyes, blinking as the sun pierced through the window. They'd forgotten to pull the curtains shut before they'd gone to bed and now she was paying the price. Not only was the sun hitting her in exactly the wrong spot, nearly blinding her, she felt like she was overheating. The comforter was thick and warm but this wasn't where the majority of the heat was stemming from.

That honour belonged to Noah alone. His heavy arm was draped over her, holding Bailey tight to his chest. While Bailey had never in her life felt more safe or secure than she did wrapped in Noah's arms in the early dawn light, he also seemed to be acting as a person space heater. He was still sleeping, she could tell that from the steady rise and fall of his chest against her as he breathed deeply, and so she was loathe to disturb him, even if she was overheating as a result.

She shifted so that she could see his face. Bailey had seen Noah wear a lot of expressions. She'd seen him happy and warm, competitive and hard, excited like a child and worried like a parent. Just yesterday, she'd seen him broken and lost. But never in her life had Bailey seen Noah look so relaxed, so unhurried and young. She wanted to reach out, to run her fingers across his strong jaw and high cheekbones, through his messy brown hair and down his aquiline nose to his soft pink lips.

Bailey could see the edges of a few burn scars curling up around his neck. She was already familiar with the ones along his arms but only now she did fully grasp the severity of the once-wounds. The sorrow she felt for him was something that could never be fully verbalized for she couldn't even fathom the pain he must have felt at losing not only his parents but his brother as well. The thought of losing even one of her family members was a terrifying prospect. She wasn't sure that she could ever survive the loss of three in one fell swoop.

It was a testament to Noah's strength. Not only had he done his best to rescue his family from the blaze itself, he'd also singlehandedly been the one to repair the damage that had been left in the wake of the fire. Caroline was on the path to as full of a recovery as she could manage. They had a stable home with people who cared for them. Bailey knew that their new lives in Tishomingo could never quite replace the lives they'd lost in Wichita Falls but she promised herself that no matter what happened between her and Noah, she would always be there for him and Caroline. They needed someone in their corner and Bailey was determined to be that person for as long as they needed her.

Her phone rang on the bedside table. She reached for it, moving carefully out of Noah's arms in the same motion. He stirred slightly but did not wake and she took the opportunity to answer the call while getting out of bed. She crept towards the door and walked out into the living room as she pulled the phone up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bailey?" It was Ethan. Bailey recognized his distinctive Texan drawl.

"Yeah, what's up?" She checked the time wondering if she and Noah had missed the breakfast that Ethan had invited them to up at the main house. It was a little after seven and Ethan had told them to be there around nine so there was still plenty of time.

"We ran out of coffee here at the house. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me on a quick supply run into town?"

Bailey noticed that he didn't mention Noah. She assumed it was intentional but just to be sure she said, "Noah's still sleeping..."

"That's okay. It won't take long. Half an hour tops."

She got the sense that Ethan wanted to talk to her. It was an unspoken meaning hidden in his tone. And Noah had seemed to be out cold anyways. Even though he couldn't see her through the phone, Bailey nodded. "Okay. I'll walk up to the main house. Give me ten minutes."