Deacon Claybourne isn't someone used to good things happening to him.

The contract waiting to be signed has been lying on his kitchen table for three days now. Two different lawyers have assured him it's a great deal. He shouldn't hesitate.

And yet.

What he needs to do is stop overthinking this and embrace his good luck. Because he's been back in Nashville for a year now, and things have been going good. Great even. Since his co-write of Sadie Stone's latest album, which reached number one, the offers have been pouring in.

This deal, though, is different. This deal is Tupelo Creek wanting to help him launch his solo career. After he'd blown his chance ten years ago, he'd thought such an opportunity would never come again.

He sighs as he looks at the contract for the hundredth time.

He shouldn't hesitate.

He grabs a pen and sits at the kitchen table. He clicks the pen, flips through the pages until he gets to the one with a yellow arrow sticker on it when... there's a knock on the door.

As he puts the pen back down, he tries not to interpret this as a sign.

—

There's a brown-haired girl standing on his porch. He's not good at estimating ages, but he guesses she must be around 9 or 10. He doesn't remember having seen her in the neighborhood before. She's wearing what looks like a dark blue school uniform which contrasts with her bright-colored backpack.

"Can I help you?"

"I think..." she starts, but she stops. She keeps staring at him.

"What is it?"

"I think that you might be my father."

Deacon remains speechless for a few seconds. His immediate thought is that it's a prank. It has to be. He almost expects to see Vince jump from behind a bush and laugh his ass off.

"Listen, I don't know who—"

"You're Deacon Claybourne, right?" she interrupts.

"Yeah."

"Then you're my father," she insists, and before he has time to stop her, she makes her way past him into his living room.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he protests. "Listen, kid, I don't know who told you I'm your father, but I'm no one's father."

"I'm Maddie Jaymes," she says.

Jaymes. Deacon's heart drops. "You're—"

"Rayna Jaymes' daughter."

For a moment, he can't breathe. A buzzing starts in his ears. He's not sure what a panic attack is supposed to feel like, but he believes it's what he's having right now. He closes the door behind him before he goes to sit on the couch.

The girl is still standing, staring at him. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, I... How old are you?"

"Ten years and three days," she announces proudly.

Deacon does some quick calculation in his head, and the result does nothing to ease his panic. Technically, it's possible. But it was one night, for God's sake. And they were barely eighteen. And it was one night. And, and, and.

The girl takes off her backpack and gets a CD out of it. As she removes the booklet from the plastic case and flips through the pages, Deacon makes out the cover of Sadie Stone's latest album. Maddie goes to sit next to him. "Here," she says, her finger pointing at his name in the credits, like it's supposed to explain everything.

He's even more confused. "How has this anything to do with me being your father?"

"I heard my mom and Uncle Watty talk in the kitchen after my birthday party." She pauses. "I wasn't spying, I swear!"

This makes Deacon smile. As much as he can smile in his current state. "Okay... and they said I was your father?"

"No, but they were talking about you. My mom was telling Uncle Watty I was asking a lot of questions about you lately. They didn't say your name or anything, but Uncle Watty said you were the most sought-after writer in town since you'd worked on Sadie Stone's album."

"So you looked in the CD's booklet."

"Yeah."

"How did you find my address?"

She shrugs like it's obvious. "The phonebook. And I took the bus."

This kid, who could very well be his kid, is resourceful. Deacon rubs a hand over his face. He's going to need a minute here. Way more than a minute.

"It's because of my wish, you know," Maddie says.

"Your wish?"

"Every year on the morning of my birthday, my mom wakes me up with a cupcake and a candle on it, and I make a wish. This year, I wished I could find you." She brightens up. "And I found you."

—

TBC