Mayfly Melodies

Four

Chapter dedicated to Im_WeirdGetUsedTo_It who gave me the name Cam

Stephen

Country is in your blood, not your closet—Earl Dibbles Jr.

Stephen Mackey had been in love with Bailey Grant for as long as he could remember.

He couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment where he's started to fall for his best friend's younger sister. All he knew was that one day he'd been running away from her, screaming about girls and their cooties and the next he was staring at her head-over-heels in love.

Stephen had done everything he knew how to do in order to quench those feelings when he was younger. He'd avoided her and, when that didn't work because she was Travis's sister and he was always with Travis, did everything he could to paint in her a sisterly role. He played pranks and made fun of her and followed all that Travis and Jake did to make her life miserable, as only a brother does.

But Bailey dished it right back. She was one of those kinds of girls, the kind who would sooner jump into a mud puddle or go exploring in the woods with her brothers than she would be seen trying on dresses or playing with dolls. She was a constant presence in the barn and with the horses, so much so that sometimes Stephen wondered if she wasn't part horse herself as she seemed to understand the animals better than she understood people half the time.

And the more Bailey partook in the boys' troublesome behaviour, the more Stephen fell for her. He saw the way that her eyes would light up in humour even as she was covered completely in dirt or the way that her mouth could turn foul the moment her mother was out of earshot, though this could be said for her brothers, as well.

It seemed that the only thing Bailey did apart from her brothers was music and this was probably a good thing. Stephen had heard Travis sing in the truck on many occasions and it was not a good sound. He also knew that, while Jake had a voice that was considerably better than his brother's awful tone, it, too, was nowhere near pleasant to listen to. Bailey was the only one of the Grant's with considerable musical talent, a trait that had been inherited from her grandmother. It was Grandma Cam that had taught Bailey to play guitar and it was that mutual love of music that had pushed Bailey to pursue a career in Nashville.

Stephen could still remember his first time hearing Bailey sing. She'd been young, probably only eight or nine, but she'd had an undeniable affinity for song, even at that age. Her talent had only progressed. By the time Bailey started her YouTube channel where she posted videos of herself singing online, she was a seasoned pro. Her venue was her bedroom or the barn. Eventually, she'd moved up to Annie's Diner on open-mic nights. And then Bailey, at the tender age of seventeen, mailed a demo CD to a recording company in Nashville and the rest was history.

He had been there, at the Grant ranch, the day that Bailey had packed up and left for the big city. He'd stood beside her brothers and her father and waved goodbye as she and her mother drove out of the small town. A few months passed between that day and the time he saw her next. Even then, though, when she returned to Tishomingo almost a year later, it was only to bring her mother home. She stayed at the ranch for two days before returning to Nashville in that rust-bucket car of hers and Stephen had seldom seen her since, not counting the times he saw her on television or heard her voice on the radio.

He'd followed that band of hers as her career had taken off. The whole town had. No one could believe that little Bailey Grant was an international country music superstar. Whenever there were awards shows that the band was nominated in, the local diner, Annie's, streamed it live and served half-price appetizers until it was over. And if Chasing Mayflies performed at all during the show, well, you could bet that every single person in that room was singing along.