After Nicole left, Bryce poured himself a draft and carried it over to a table in front of the stage. He turned one of the chairs sideways to face the raised platform, sat down and stretched out his legs. She might as well be perched up on that stool, because he could see her, hear her and even breathe her flowery scent.

He sipped his beer and listened to the concert in his head. He might have coaxed her to stay longer tonight, but he’d decided not to try. She’d been a little flirty with him and she might have changed her mind about going home. But letting her go was the right thing to do.

Good for him. He’d stepped away from temptation so that she’d have plenty of space in which to heal. He’d have a seat reserved in heaven for that noble gesture. At least he hoped so, because he’d devised a hell for himself down here.

Twice a week he’d be sweetly tortured by her mellow voice and her enviable talent with a guitar. Every note she sang, every string she plucked, aroused him as an artist and a man. But she had doubts about her judgment and only she could resolve them.

What he needed was a powerful distraction to take him through the next several weeks and only one possibility occurred to him. Might be a huge mistake, though. Setting down his beer, he walked over to the stairway, unhooked the velvet rope across the bottom step and went up to his apartment.

He flipped on a light. His trusty Martin sat in a corner, right next to a desk piled with boxes of hastily packed recording equipment. Fishing a t-shirt out of the laundry hamper, he wiped the dust off the case before laying it on the small table in his kitchen nook.

The snap of the latches sounded loud in the stillness. He used to love that snap because it meant one of two things—he was about to play the instrument he loved or he was tucking it away because he’d entered a state of exhausted satisfaction from hours of making music.

Anticipation skittered down his spine. But the little shiver meant nothing if it turned out the music was gone. He’d abandoned it, so it might have abandoned him.

Opening the case, he gazed at the light grain of the polished wood body and the graceful shape of the neck with its fretboard worn from the constant press of his fingertips. His throat tightened with longing and he reached for it.

Then he pulled back, unsure. What if he’d lost the connection? That would make things worse. He started to close the lid, but an image of Nicole on that stool made him pause. It was no coincidence that he’d chosen to fetch his guitar tonight. Her enthusiasm was contagious. She’d reminded him that playing could be a source of joy.

Okay, he’d take it downstairs and see what happened. He couldn’t truly play it but he’d just…see. Moments later he was back in the chair, the familiar weight of the guitar on his thighs. His hands trembled a bit as he tuned it but gradually he calmed down. And began to hum a little.

No surprise, his humming was also out of tune. He hadn’t sung for eleven months, either. He stopped to drink more beer before trying an actual song. He chose Flowers on the Wall. And he was terrible. Terrible. He was so bad he started laughing at himself. His fingers hurt like hell, too.

What did you expect, doofus? He laid the guitar on the table and finished his beer. Getting back in shape so he could produce a decent sound would take forever. If he’d expected some mystical experience when he touched those strings, it hadn’t happened. He wouldn’t know if he had any music left in him until he could play like he used to.

He wouldn’t call the experiment a success or a failure. Something in between the two extremes. He’d give himself a C. As for Nicole, she was still very much on his mind. He should talk to Lou about hiring another bartender for Sunday and Monday nights. Nicole would likely bring in enough to pay for one and then he could remove himself from the equation. There was the rub. Torturous though it might be for him, he wanted to be there when she played.

It was late by the time he headed upstairs, but that was normal. Climbing out of bed before sunrise was not. The next morning, he staggered into his kitchen nook to make coffee and discovered he was out. Hell. He could borrow some from the bar’s supply but fetching it would use time he didn’t have.

His body clock had always been the opposite of his brothers, who were early-to-bed and early-to-rise types who usually greeted the new day with enthusiasm. They were perfectly suited for the lives they’d chosen. He was happier with a different routine. This wasn’t it.

He made it to Wild Creek Ranch on time, but barely. He hadn’t been out there in a week or so and since then the second barn had been framed and partially roofed. Expanding the boarding and trail ride operation had been Cody’s idea and most of the stalls were already spoken for.

But the trip to pick up wedding duds took precedence over working on the barn. His brothers had been waiting for him, a fact made obvious by the way they stood in a loose circle in the parking area next to the house, arms folded as they caught up on everyone’s news. They all shared their late father’s broad-shouldered, lean-hipped build and their mother’s coloring.

But no one would mix them up. Ryker had the most imposing physique and the fiercest expression. Zane ran a close second for sheer muscle mass, but he was a lover, not a fighter. Cody took the prize for most handsome and charming. Nobody could resist the guy’s smile.

Bryce and Trev were slightly leaner than the other three, but Trev’s volunteer firefighting and his construction work had added some bulk. Trev was a builder at heart and he fought fires because of its power to destroy what he loved.

Prior to last October, Bryce’s ability as a musician had been his defining characteristic. Although he could ride and rope, he hadn’t used those talents much until he and Trev had recently spent five months in Texas wrangling cattle. He’d returned tanned and fit, but he was no closer to deciding what to do with his life. He knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t a cowpuncher. Hauling out of bed at dawn was ridiculous.

He parked his truck next to Ryker’s.

Ryker came over to greet him. “I was about to call.”

“I said I’d be here.”

Ryker frowned. “Listen, if you—”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to snap your head off. Late night.” It was a lame excuse and he regretted making it the second it came out of his mouth.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.” He drew in a steadying breath. “Looks like we’re ready to go.”

“We are.” Ryker gave him a searching glance. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Absolutely. You know me. I don’t come alive until I’ve had coffee and I didn’t have time to make any.”

“We have a couple of minutes. Go get a sippy cup from Mom.”

“Just because you called it a sippy cup, I will, smartass.” He turned and cut across to the walkway leading up to the one-story log ranch house. Taking the porch steps in two bounds, he crossed to the front door. “Hey, Mom!” he called out as he opened it. “Got a travel mug of coffee I can take along?”

“Hey, Bryce!” She walked out of the kitchen with the bright smile she wore every time she greeted one of her boys. “I thought I heard boots on the porch.”

“Just me.”

“I have one you can use, but I’m surprised you don’t have your own by now.”

“Don’t need it.” He gave her a quick hug. “I make it a policy not to go anywhere before noon.”

She went back into the kitchen and opened a cupboard. “Your brothers wanted to get this out of the way early.”

“You mean Ryker wanted to get it out of the way early. Here, let me fill it. I’m sure you were in the middle of something.”

She let him take over the job. “I was planning the menu for the rehearsal dinner. I’m having it here.”

“Are you sure you want to go to all that trouble? I can get you a discount if you want to use the Guzzling Grizzly.” He poured coffee into the travel mug and screwed on the lid.

“Yeah?” She gazed at him.

“You could have music and a dance floor, too.”

“That’s tempting, but we wouldn’t have the place to ourselves.”

“Let me talk to Lou. Now that he can count on extra revenue from Sunday and Monday nights, he might be willing to let us reserve it.”

“I heard that Nicole was a hit.”

“She was. I—” Ryker’s voice calling his name cut off further discussion. “He’s in drill sergeant mode. If I don’t get out there he’ll order me to drop and give him fifty.”

She laughed. “No, he won’t.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it and I’m not in the mood for pushups. Call me this afternoon.”

“I will.”

“Bye, Mom.” He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek before heading out the door and down to the van where everyone stood waiting for him.

Cody gestured to the nine-passenger vehicle that was their mother’s pride and joy. “Who’s driving?”

Ryker pulled the keys out of his pocket. “I am.”

“Told you.” Zane gave Cody a look. “It was never up for debate.”

“Yeah, but you and I are the ones who drive it all time, so why should Ryker get to—”

“Because I’m the best man, bozo,” Ryker said. “Now get in, and if I hear any squabbling about who sits where, I’m leaving you by the side of the road.”

Laughing, Bryce climbed into the back of the van. “Just like old times.”

His mom’s strong coffee improved his mood considerably. If he thought this sort of circumstance would repeat itself, he’d invest in a travel mug. But he couldn’t imagine morning shopping trips to Bozeman would become a regular thing.

Zane rode shotgun with Ryker. Bryce and Trev took the middle seat and Cody lounged in the back. Bryce got a charge out of it. They were sitting in their birth order.

Zane turned around in his seat. “Has everyone heard about Nicole’s performance last night?”

Cody spoke up. “I think the whole town’s heard about it. If the place was full last night, it’ll be packed tonight.”

“That’s my point,” Zane said. “I’m hoping we can all go because Ryker and Bryce think she’d be great for a solo during the ceremony. I’d appreciate having everyone’s opinion.”

“I’ve checked with April.” Ryker pulled onto the main road. “We can make it.”

“I’m on call at the station, but I’ll plan to go,” Trev said.

“Faith and I will be there.” Cody chuckled. “But she made me promise she wouldn’t have to dance.”

“Nobody has to dance unless they want to,” Zane said. “This is about listening and evaluating whether she’d fit into the ceremony.”

“She would.” Bryce’s protective streak surfaced. She wouldn’t know she was being auditioned and in his opinion she didn’t need to be.

“I agree,” Ryker said. “And Bryce is our musical expert, so if he thinks she’d do a good job, she’s probably fine. But I want to make sure. We need everyone there by five, before she starts playing.”

Cody piped up. “What about Aunt Jo and Mom? The wedding mothers should have a say-so.”

“Mandy pointed that out to me last night,” Zane said. “So they’ve both agreed to be there.”

“And that’s not all,” Cody said. “The Whine and Cheese Club is putting in a bunch of time on table favors and place cards for the reception. The least we can do is ask them to come over to the GG and give an opinion about Nicole.”

“I’ll put Mom on it,” Zane said. “But if we’re planning on a large group, we need to get there early.”

“Yes, please.” Bryce envisioned the evening ahead and wondered if he’d need three servers. But he was happy for Nicole. Nothing like an SRO crowd to give a performer an ego boost.

More discussion followed concerning logistics and where the first arrivals should sit to claim a good spot.

As the debate continued, Trev glanced over at Bryce. “Can you and Mike handle this mob or do you want backup?”

“If you can make it, I’d rather have you behind the bar than sitting in the crowd sucking up beer.”

Trev grinned. “I couldn’t suck up beer, anyway. I’m on call. I’ll help with the bartending unless we have a fire. Then I have to go.”

“That’s fine.”

About that time, Cody started telling bad wedding jokes. The more he was booed, the more jokes he told.

“Thank God.” Zane sighed as Ryker pulled the van into the parking lot next to the bridal shop. “What’d you do, look those up online?“

“I did and there’s tons of them. Have you heard the one about the groom who hired a stand-in for the ceremony?”

“No.” Ryker turned off the engine. “And I advise you not to tell it unless you want me to lock you in the van.”

“Not possible.”

“Guess again.” Ryker held up the key fob. “Childproof locks. Let’s go, troops.”

Once they were out of the van, Cody barreled ahead like he used to when they were kids, with Ryker and Zane following as if they still had to make sure he didn’t get into trouble. Bryce was in no hurry to go in and Trevor dropped back, too.

Trev lowered his voice. “Your fingertips look a little raw.”

Bryce was startled, but he shouldn’t have been. They were twins, after all, and they noticed things about each other that nobody else would. “I got out the guitar last night.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” He kept his voice down. “Big surprise, I’m lousy.”

Trev angled his head toward Zane. “Are you thinking you might—”

“No. I’d never be ready in time. I’m just fooling around.”

“Okay.” Trev didn’t ask anything more. He didn’t have to. Over the years they’d developed a form of communication that didn’t require a lot of words.

The bridal shop looked the same as Bryce remembered. He’d prepared himself to walk through the doors, but he wasn’t quite as prepared as he’d hoped.

It didn’t help that the salesclerk was the same woman who’d helped them the last time. Trev had returned everything the day after the wedding that wasn’t. He must not have said anything about the disastrous outcome, because the clerk was all smiles.

She focused on Bryce. “How’s married life?”

As he fumbled around trying to figure out what to say, Ryker clapped him on the shoulder and spoke in an undertone. “I’ve got this.” He smiled at the clerk. “We all want to concentrate on Zane today. Bryce had his moment and now it’s Zane’s turn.”

“Of course, of course!” She fluttered in place like a bird who wasn’t sure which way to fly. “Which one of you is Zane?”

“I am.” Zane stepped forward. “We’ve decided to go with white Western shirts and some kind of vest, no jacket. What can you show us?”

“Lots of things.” She moved toward the racks lining the walls of the shop. “Excellent choice for this time of year. Vests are so manly. You all have impressive…chests. You’ll look amazing.”

Bryce exhaled in relief. He should have known his brothers would come through for him in this situation. He couldn’t blame the clerk for her innocent remark. He hadn’t checked the statistics, but he doubted runaway brides were all that common.

Thanks to Ryker running interference, the subject was off the table. Ryker was good at this maneuver. High school football on Friday nights years ago had been a perfect demonstration of his ability in this area. The state championship had depended on it.

Because they’d be wearing black jeans and only needed shirts and vests, they were out of the shop in short order and back on the road to Eagles Nest.

“One more thing checked off.” Zane seemed very happy about that.

Bryce had experienced a similar weight of responsibility as he’d approached the big day. But he hadn’t minded because he’d imagined that the time after the wedding would be a calm stream after shooting the rapids. He met Ryker’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Thanks for stepping in back there.”

“Anytime.” Ryker gave him a slow smile.

Bryce smiled back. Getting up at dawn might have been worth it, after all.