Somehow Dean managed to keep the rest of the curious onlookers away. Blue and April herded Nita toward her car. Dean nudged Riley toward her father and then disappeared, leaving her no choice but to approach. She looked so anxious that Jack’s heart ached. What if he was wrong about this? But he had no time for second-guessing. He gave her a quick peck on top of her head. She smelled like birthday cake. “You were great up there,” he said. “But I want a daughter, not some teenybopper rock star.”

Her head shot up. He held his breath. Her eyes turned into puddles of disbelief. “Really?” she said on a single long exhalation.

He’d come so far with her this summer, and the slightest misstep could wipe all that out. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to sing—that’s entirely up to you—but you need to keep a clear head about it. You have an amazing voice, but your real friends are the people who’d love you even if you couldn’t sing a note.” He paused. “Like me.”

Her dark brown eyes, so much like his, widened.

“Dean and April, too,” he said. “Blue. Even Mrs. Garrison.” He was laying it on thick, but he needed to make sure she was clear. “You don’t have to sing to earn anybody’s friendship. Or their love.”

“You know,” she whispered.

He pretended to misunderstand. “I’ve been in the business a lot of years. I’ve pretty much seen it all.”

Now she was getting worried. “But I can still sing for people, can’t I? After I don’t suck so much at the guitar.”

“Only if you want to. And only if you don’t let anybody judge who you are just by that voice of yours.”

“I promise.”

He wrapped his arm around her and drew her close. “I love you, Riley.”

Her cheek fell against his chest. “I love you, too, Dad.”

It was the first time she’d said the words.

They walked toward the car with their arms around each other. Just before they got there, she said, “Could we talk about my future? Not the singing, but school and where I’m going to live and all that.”

Right then, he knew exactly how he was going to handle this. “Too late,” he said. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

The old guarded look sprang back into her eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m the dad, and I make the decisions. I hate to be the one to break the bad news, star baby, but you’re not getting anywhere near Aunt Gayle and Trinity no matter how much you beg.”

“Really?” The word came out as a soft gasp.