by Duncan Leigh
“Yeah.” Bradley retrieved his shovel.
“There’s a great band in town.” Their old grade school friend, Sammy, sang lead in the country western group that set toes tapping every time they appeared at the Mill Town Corral. “They’re playing tomorrow night, if you want to go see them.”
“That’d be great.”
She took a fortifying sip of coffee while she chewed on the realization that, no matter how much things had changed for Bradley, he was still marrying Catherine Mann. For both their sakes, she needed to put some distance between them. A crowded bar sounded just like what the doctor would order. She’d ask Adam to join them, and the three musketeers would have a few laughs, dance to some music, relive the carefree days of their youth. Best of all, surrounded by friends and neighbors, there’d be no chance of repeating yesterday’s warm embrace.
Chapter Eleven
Night birds called from their nests as Bradley cut across the field to Sarah’s house. The tall grass brushed his boots with every step. He aimed a promise at the gate in her picket fence when it swung open with a squeak. Tomorrow. He’d oil the hinges tomorrow. Tonight, there’d be no backbreaking work mending fences, no chores to tackle. Tonight was for music and good times, something that was long overdue. If this were Nashville or L.A., he’d have been out on the town every night, dropping in for a performance at the Bluebird, swinging by the Cowboy Palace to listen to an up-and-coming band. But in the two weeks that had passed since he’d come to Mill Town, he’d lived like a hermit while he worked on the new songs for an album that was coming together very nicely, even if he did say so himself. Still, it’d be good to get out, visit with friends, take a spin across the dance floor. The thought added a little pep to his step as he trotted up the stairs to rap on Sarah’s front door.
“Evenin’,” he said when she answered.
Stepping onto the porch, Sarah tossed a soft “Hi” over her shoulder while she locked up.
“You all set?” It felt odd, just the two of them heading out for a night on the town. Whenever he and Catherine ventured out together, her entourage of assistants and makeup artists usually accompanied them. To say nothing of the paparazzi who dogged their every step.
“Mm-hum.”
He suppressed a low whistle when, trailing a light floral scent in her wake, Sarah’s slight figure brushed past him and headed down the stairs. The slicked-back hair she normally wore in a ponytail had been set free to trail in curls around her shoulders. Beneath a snug-fitting denim jacket, her dress pinched in at her waist before falling in soft folds that ended above her knees. Something was off, though. He could feel it. Her answers were too subdued, too cool. Determined to get a rise out of her, he summoned a teasing grin. “You know, you clean up real good for a cowgirl.”
“Well, thank you, kind sir.” Sarah motioned toward her feet. “These are my Saturday go-to-town boots.”
He smiled in return. That was better. That was the Sarah he knew. “Well, let’s git.” He settled his hat on his head and escorted her to her truck for the short ride into town.
They snagged a parking space just beyond the swinging doors of the Mill Town Corral, where music spilled onto the street. He paused to listen. The cover band Sammy had mentioned when he’d first arrived in town was in full swing…and they weren’t half bad. In fact, they were every bit as good as many of the bands whose music filled the airways. The drummer measured out an up-tempo beat that had a fair-sized crowd on its feet. On the dance floor, couples two-stepped while fiddles sawed and guitars twanged. Following Sarah’s lead, he headed inside, where he nodded hello to the band leader on bass, then followed quickly on the heels of Sarah’s boots when she cut a path through the crowded bar to the spot where Adam had saved seats for them.
“Hey! How are ya?”
His stomach gave an unexpected shimmy when Sarah stepped into Adam’s welcoming embrace. Surprised by how difficult it became to keep his trademark smile in place, he extended his hand as Sarah stepped aside. “How ya doin’, Adam?”
“You two going to twirl around the floor?” Taking Sarah’s jacket and purse, Adam set them on one of the stools he’d reserved.
“Maybe after a few.” For now, he just wanted to soak in the atmosphere and listen to music from the band that would probably play at his wedding. Around them, people clapped and cheered when a rocking instrumental drew to a close.
“Thank you!” Sammy called while waitresses wove between tables taking orders and delivering drinks. He strummed the opening bars of their next number, a slow ballad guaranteed to put even the most stalwart cowboy in the mood.
Over Adam’s shoulder, Bradley swept a glance through the crowd. A bearded fellow cupped his hands over his wife’s swollen belly and drew the expectant mom toward him. They swayed in time with the music. Around the room, couples paired off while Sammy crooned a love song.
“It’s good—the slow music.” Sarah spoke above the sawing fiddle, the rattle of glassware, the sound of boots and shoes shuffling against the wooden floor. “’Cause you’re gonna need romantic dancin’ music, too.”
She was right, as usual. He’d never been to a wedding where the DJ didn’t spin at least a half-dozen slow songs. He glanced down at Sarah. After a full day of mucking stalls, mending fences, and handling a thousand other tasks, she’d taken pains with her clothes and hair and driven into town, just so he could choose a band to play at his wedding. After all that, she deserved a swing or two around the dance floor. Hoping Adam might offer, he searched for their friend. But Adam had slid onto a bar stool where he sat, lost in the music while he nursed a tall glass of ice tea. Which, he supposed, left him to do the honors.
He extended a hand. “You want to dance?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Sarah’s curls shimmied when she nodded her head. “You dance?” she asked, gliding into his arms.
“I try.” Their shared laughter floated in the space between them. “Okay, are you ready?” he asked when they’d taken a couple of turns. “’Cause I’m gonna spin you.”
“Oh?” A look that was more challenge than doubt filled Sarah’s eyes. “You have moves?”
Determined to prove himself, he put a little extra flair into twirling her about the dance floor. Her hand in his felt soft and especially feminine as he reeled her back into his arms.
“Oh, that was a surprise,” she said, when her head once more rested on his shoulder.
Her body melded to his and, without a single hesitant step, they glided among the other couples. Unable to believe how well they fit together, he drew in a deep breath. The sweet, clean scent of roses and flowers picked fresh from the garden filled his nose. He leaned closer, searching for the source. For one brief moment, he let himself drink in the smell he’d always associate with Sarah and home. A smell he’d miss when he left here.
Suddenly, he didn’t want to leave it all behind. Not his parents’ house. His friends, new and old. Or Sarah, either.
When she tipped her head to his, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to press his lips to hers. A heady mix of surprise and thankfulness filled him when she rose on tiptoe to kiss him back. For the long moment while they clung together, her heart beat in sync with his. Wishing that the moment could last forever, he pulled away just as the last few bars of the song came to a close. A camera flashed nearby while they lingered, their lips mere inches apart. Around them, people clapped. Bradley started.
Oh man, what have I done?
Drunk on a kiss that should never have taken place, he couldn’t string two thoughts together. He stepped away from Sarah while he did his best to pretend that nothing had happened between them. But in spite of his efforts, something inside him argued that kissing Sarah was the smartest move he’d ever made. At the same time, shame heated the back of his neck. He was an engaged man, for goodness sake. He’d be a married one in a few days.
He turned to Sarah
, intending to beg her forgiveness, to explain. But he had no words, because there was no explanation good enough to excuse what he’d done. What was he supposed to say—that he’d had no business taking her out on the dance floor, much less kissing her? That he’d given in to the heat of the moment?
Whatever he came up with, he wouldn’t say he regretted it. Because he didn’t. For as long as he lived, he’d judge every other kiss against that one, and he was pretty sure they’d all fall short. But he couldn’t say that, either. Not here. Not now. The irony of being a Grammy-award-winning songwriter who couldn’t find the right words struck home, and he groaned.
The last few bars of the slow dance ended. Her heart in her throat, Sarah stared up at Bradley. What had just happened? One minute, she and Bradley had been laughing and dancing. The next, they’d been kissing. And not just any old kiss. He’d kissed her like he meant it and, heaven help her, she’d kissed him right back. So, now what? Was this the moment when he’d sweep her into his arms, declare his love for her, and promise her forever?
Well, that was a foolish thought if she’d ever heard one. She dug it out by the roots and tossed it away, the same as she’d do for any weed that sprouted in her garden. She didn’t love Bradley Suttons any more than he loved her. He was engaged to Catherine. Their kiss had been nothing more than a huge mistake. Wanting, needing to apologize before one moment of weakness ruined their friendship, she turned to face him.
“Evening, ya’ll.” Up on the stage, Sammy spoke into the microphone. “Now, we’ve got a very special treat for ya’ll tonight. We have country superstar and Mill Town’s own Bradley Suttons in the house.”
Aware that every eye in the bar had zeroed in on them, Sarah edged a few steps out of the limelight. She’d bide her time. In a minute or two, Sammy would kick off the next number. Once everyone started dancing again, she and Bradley could talk about what had just happened and would never, ever, be repeated. Till then, she’d wait and pretend that everything was right as rain. While he waved to the crowd, she forced a fake smile to her lips and added her own applause to everyone else’s.
“I’d like to invite him up to join the band for a song.” Sammy threw in a pleading look that no one in their right mind would refuse.
She sighed as, suddenly, a half-dozen fans mobbed Bradley. One of them gave him his hat. Another slipped a guitar into his hands. Surrounding him, they escorted him to the stage while she stood and…just watched.
“Howdy, ya’ll.” As if being called upon to perform with an unfamiliar instrument in a band he didn’t know was something that happened to him every day of the week and twice on Sunday, Bradley leaned into the mic. “It’s, uh, it’s good to be home.”
Sarah clasped her hands together. Tears stung her eyes when Bradley strummed the opening bars of “Love Don’t Die Easy,” the song that had won him a Grammy and catapulted him to the top of the charts. Was the song about them? Was it remotely possible that the feelings they’d shared as kids, the ones that had led them to promise to love and honor and, yes, even obey, still existed?
A voice at her elbow cut through the melody “What are you doing, Sarah?”
She struggled to compose herself. Hiding her emotions required more effort and time than she liked, but as soon as she could, she glanced up at Adam. “What are you talking about?”
“Come on. I’ve known you a long time.” Other than her parents, no one knew her better. She and Adam had spent Sunday church services toddling around the nursery together. From first through twelfth grades, they’d attended the same schools, joined the same clubs. Their friendship had only strengthened once they’d both returned home after college. “You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you?”
She gave her head an emphatic shake. She didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t love Bradley any more than he loved her. They were just two friends, helping out one another. “He’s helping me on my ranch. I-I’m helping him plan his wedding.”
“Exactly. His wedding.” Adam’s voice firmed. “He’s marrying somebody else. He’s leaving this town.”
“I know that.” Her voice shook. Even though he was leaving, even though she’d known that from the beginning, that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“I care about you, Sarah.” Compassion softened Adam’s tone. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I won’t.
How could she, if she didn’t love Bradley? Oh, he was her friend. She cared for him. But love? No, that was foolish. So, he’d hugged her at the fishing hole yesterday. That didn’t mean anything. Friends, hugged all the time. And yes, he’d kissed her, and she’d kissed him back, but that was a mistake, and as soon as she and Bradley had the chance to talk about it, they’d put it behind them and move on.
Other things weren’t as easy to overlook, though. She let her thoughts drift. Her heart warmed whenever she stepped out onto her porch while the dew still sparkled on the grass and saw the lights shining in the window of his house. Each morning, her pulse leaped at the sight of Bradley as he cut across the field behind her house. They talked constantly while they worked on her fences. She’d told him practically everything about herself, from her deepest fears to her highest hopes, and he’d done the same.
She forced herself to look ahead, to the day after his wedding. Once he and Catherine left for their honeymoon, things around Mill Town would return to normal. She’d get that funding from the Equine Rehabilitation Fund in time to save her ranch and would go about her chores, same as usual. She’d have to make some small adjustments, of course. Instead of packing Bradley’s ham-and-cheese sandwiches in her cooler each day, she’d make only one peanut butter and jelly sandwich for herself. It’d probably take her some time before she got used to pouring only one cup of coffee into the Thermos again. Without Bradley there to help her, it’d be a little harder to get the fences mended. She pictured herself going about her day, caring for the horses, feeding the goats, working in the garden…alone…and missing him every minute of every day.
Her breath hitched. Adam was right. She’d fallen in love with Bradley Suttons. She hadn’t meant to do it. She hadn’t even wanted to do it. But love had snuck up on her when she wasn’t looking.
Adam was right about something else, too. Bradley was marrying someone else. A week from now, he’d be gone, out of her life forever. Her heart shattered at the thought.
She squeezed her eyes tight while the band played. How was she going to face Bradley? She couldn’t look into his eyes and tell him their kiss had meant nothing to her. That would be a lie, and she’d promised she’d always tell him the truth. There might come a day when she’d have to break her word, but not today, not now, not over something as important as this.
Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. Now. She had some tough choices to make, and she couldn’t make them here. Not in the middle of this crowd. Not with Bradley up on stage. She had to put some distance between them, needed time to think about what to do next.
Crossing to the bar where Adam sat, she grabbed her jacket and her purse. She ducked her head below the figures on the dance floor and, using the crowd for cover, she snuck out of the bar. On the sidewalk, she cast one last look behind her. Through the window, she saw Bradley in his element, singing his heart out in front of fans who loved him. His was a future that held no room for her. Certain she was making the right decision, she jumped in her truck and headed for home and a long, sleepless night.
Chapter Twelve
Standing at the kitchen sink, Bradley sipped cold coffee while he stared out the window at the Standor ranch. Where was Sarah? Over the past couple of weeks, the two of them had fallen into a routine. While she fed the horses and farm animals first thing in the mornings, he’d sort through a few more of his parents’ belongings or, if the mood was right, work on one of his new songs. Whenever he refilled his coffee cup, he’d catch little glimpses of her going abo
ut her chores and know that she wasn’t ready for his help yet. But usually by the time the dew dried, she’d start gathering up the tools and equipment they’d need. That was when he’d join her, and they’d work late into the afternoon mending her fences.
But not today.
Today, when he really needed to talk to her, Sarah hadn’t put in a single appearance. Not one of the horses had been turned out into the fields to graze. None of the three dogs that trailed her every step had raced through the front yard. Her truck hadn’t moved from the spot where it’d been parked when Adam had driven him home last night.
She had to be avoiding him. That was the only explanation that made sense. Right now, she was probably standing at her own kitchen sink, drinking a cup of coffee while she shot dagger-filled looks his way. Not that he could blame her. Not after the stunt he’d pulled last night. But he could fix this. If she’d let him, he’d tell her how sorry he was for what he’d done and beg her to forgive him. The only problem was, the longer they went without clearing the air between them, the harder it’d be to go back to being friends again.
He glanced at the clock over the kitchen stove. Ten past nine. He’d give her another twenty minutes. Then, no matter what, he’d head for her place.
At the front door, someone rapped loudly. He swung toward it. “Sarah?” His pulse shifted into a hard, driving beat. “What happened to you last night?” he called on his way down the hall. “I waited—”
His footsteps slowed. Through the glass panes, he spotted the outline of a man. Not Sarah. His shoulders slumped. Propping one arm on the frame, he took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Morning!” Beneath the brim of a cream-colored Stetson that perfectly matched the color of his suit, the president of Mill Town Bank squinted.
