Page 49 of Daddy's Heart

Colt ended up giving them an earful, then hung up. Said, when they can learn to act like decent humans, they can come see him. Until then, no contact.

Sad, but my grandparents are still in my life. They’re at their new place in Florida so they couldn’t make the concert but we will be visiting soon. Legend’s all in on Disneyworld and finding sharks teeth on the beach.

Life isn’t perfect, but sometimes, it sure feels like it is.

The lights dim. My pulse kicks up.

Normally, I’d be backstage—clipboard in hand, headset on, wrangling kindergartners high on juice boxes and nerves. It’s not a full-time job, but it is my only one outside of my music career. When I told Logan I was quitting, I might have expected him to be upset. No such thing. He told me to chase my dreams and be happy, so long as I didn’t disappear from his lifecompletely. I see him all the time, and I’m getting to know his new boyfriend too.

But tonight, I’m not the choir director. I’m just a mom in the front row, silently praying my kid doesn’t forget the words or throw up from excitement.

The acts start rolling: alphabet songs, shaky recorder solos, an interpretive dance involving glitter wands and one very confused first-grader. Then—

“Next up, we have Legend Boone performing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow.’”

The crowd claps. I stop breathing.

And then, there he is.

Tiny. Brave. All five years of him standing under the bright lights in that sheriff’s uniform, his little bow tie now perfectly askew.

He steps up to the mic like he’s done it a hundred times, adjusts it just a little too low, and then scans the audience until he finds us. His grin breaks across his face like sunshine, and I swear, in that moment, the whole auditorium tilts toward him.

He opens his mouth. And sings.

AndGod.

The voice that comes out of that small, serious face isn’t what anyone expects. It’s not babyish. It’s not forced. It’s clear, controlled, heartbreakingly earnest. A sound that makes the room hold its breath.

And makes his mama so proud she’s on cloud nine.

“Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high...”

Beside me, Colt goes completely still. I glance over and see his hands clenched together in his lap, his jaw working like he’s trying not to fall apart.

“There’s a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby...”

Legend doesn’t miss a note. His voice fills the space with something raw and simple andtrue. He’s not just singing, he’s telling a story. And people are listening. Really listening.

I catch the tear before it fully falls down Colt’s cheek, but I see the shimmer. And I see the pride. It’s written all over him, this big, strong man is now absolutely losing it at a five-year-old in a clip-on tie.

Our little boy sings, and my husband cries, and I can’t help myself. I’m sobbing too. I listen to every word, every line, and I know that I’ve made all the right decisions. I might not have wanted to bring a man into our lives, I might have promised myself that Legend would come first.

But the truth is he has. He does. Not just with me, but with Colt too.

And just like that, it’s over.

The final note hangs like stardust, then the room erupts. Applause, cheers, whistles. Even a “That’s my nephew!” from somewhere behind us.

Legend bows, face glowing, eyes scanning for us again. When he finds us, Colt’s already on his feet, clapping hard, wiping his face with the back of his hand like it didn’t just betray him in front of 300 people.

“That’s my boy,” he says, voice thick. “That’s my son.”

Around us, the whole Boone crew is on their feet. Even Beau, who looks suspiciously misty and mutters something about “allergies” when Sarah nudges him.

Legend practically flies off the stage and crashes into Colt’s arms.

“Did you hear me, Daddy? Did I do good?”