“Why do you have hair sticking out of your nose?”

Ash twitched and struggled not to laugh. Sarah’s tone was too serious not to answer with a straight face. “That happens when you get to be an old man like me. I’ll do my best to trim them back before next week.”

“You can’t help being old, I guess, but I hope that doesn’t happen to me. I don’t want hairs in my nose.”

He refrained from pointing out that she already had hairs in her nose and instead finished tying the six-year-old’s shoe before sending her back to the swings where she would hopefully not ask Ms. Frieda about the hair coming out of her ears. Not that anything ever offended Ms. Frieda, but Ash didn’t trust what the woman might say in response. The elderly volunteer had once told him that she’d have tickled his pickle if only she were forty years younger. Thankfully, no children had been around to overhear.

When Ash wasn’t in a writing session or the recording studio, he most enjoyed his time at Sunshine Academy, which wasn’t an academy in the traditional sense, but a recreation center in one of the more downtrodden neighborhoods in the city. As a child who never knew his father, Ash related to the kids who were navigating the world much as he had—predominantly alone and with little guidance.

Kathleen Shepherd had done her best, but supporting herself and her son had required holding down multiple jobs at a time that led to long working hours. By the age of nine, Ash had learned to cook, clean, and take care of himself with little adult supervision. Lucky for him, they’d moved to Eton that year, and he’d found the Rheingold family, who’d welcomed him with open arms.

Until the accident.

Checking his watch, Ash wondered if Jesse was going to show. She was already ten minutes late when he spotted a burgundy Jeep, much like the one he’d parked behind the night before, pull into the center parking lot. When Jesse stepped from the vehicle, anger ignited like a flash-fire.

“What are you doing driving a Jeep?” he asked as she approached. “And you’re late.”

Sunlight turned her swaying ponytail a fiery red while dark shades covered her eyes. Ignoring his question, she said, “Why are these kids out here so early?”

“Because their parents have to work and they need someplace to go.” Still annoyed, he repeated the first question. “The Jeep. What the hell, Jesse?”

She slid the glasses onto the top of her head. “What? You used to own one.”

“And I won’t own one again.”

Confusion clouded her blue eyes until the memory returned. “You cannot be serious. That was a random accident that would have happened no matter what vehicle we were in. Let it go, Ash.” It wasn’t that easy. “You said you have some friends for me to meet?”

Dropping the Jeep issue—for now—Ash said, “Follow me.”

They were headed for the back of the rec center when Millie Hopewell stepped into the morning light with a child Ash didn’t recognize.

“There you are,” said the center director, cheeks pinker than usual.

Millie had been running the center for sixteen years and had never missed a Saturday as long as Ash had been volunteering. Loose strands of her shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair flew out in all directions as if she’d styled it by rubbing a balloon on her head, and her neutral-toned, oversized clothes contained as many wrinkles as tattered threads. Despite her appearance, Millie was the most calm, organized person Ash had ever met, and she lived for the children she served.

Always happy to lend a hand, Ash said, “How can I help?”

“We have a new attendee, and I thought maybe you could help her meet the other children.” Noticing the woman beside him, she added, “I see you also brought us a new face today.”

“I did. Millie Hopewell, meet Jesse Gold.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jess said, shaking the older woman’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Beside Millie stood a pixie of a child. Small, with fiery hair, discerning blue eyes, and freckles scattered across her button nose, she bore a striking resemblance to a younger version of Jesse.

Lowering her voice, Millie whispered, “I’m hoping you can work your magic for this one.”

“I’d be happy to.” Ash had a knack for pairing up the newcomers with another child already in the program. Dropping to one knee in order to greet the little girl, he said, “What’s your name?”

“Grimelda,” the redhead replied.

Ash glanced up to Millie, who shook her head. “Her name is Jane, but she prefers Grimelda.”

“Grimelda is a witch’s name,” the little one informed him. “I like witches.”

Interesting kid. “Okay, then, Grimelda it is. Are you ready to make some friends?”

Pink lips puckered as she shook her head in the negative.

“Smart kid,” Jesse muttered. Ash shot her a not-helping look, and she dropped the sunglasses back to her own freckle-covered nose.

Pointing to an empty bench on the side of the playground, he said, “How about we go sit over there and talk? I bet you have some good stories to tell.”

Every kid had a story. They just rarely found an adult willing to listen.

The bright-red ponytail swayed as she nodded in agreement, and Ash led her to the bench, ignoring Jesse’s impatient sigh.

Once the three were settled, Grimelda opened with an unexpected question. “Are you two married?”

“No,” Jesse replied a little too quickly, considering they’d once discussed walking down the aisle together.

“You don’t have to make it sound like being married to me would be so bad.”

Jesse eyed him over the little girl’s head. “You’re too pretty. I’d be insecure all the time.”

“You are very pretty,” Grimelda agreed. At least when she said it, the description sounded like a compliment.

“As Ms. Jesse says, no, we aren’t married.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“Once,” he replied. “But not anymore.”

“Did you cheat?” Grimelda asked.

“Good question.” Jesse stretched an arm over the back of the bench.

Why had he invited her here again? “No, I did not cheat.”

“Did she?” Before Ash could answer, the child added, “Or he. I know that boys can marry each other, too.”

A worldly statement for a child her age.

“I like this one,” Jesse said, removing the glasses once more.

“Thank you,” Grimelda replied. Looking back to Ash, she said, “So?”

“My wife didn’t cheat either,” he answered. “We just decided to be friends instead.”

“Are you still friends?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Really?” Jesse asked, appearing genuinely interested.

“Yes. Really.” To Grimelda, he said, “Are you sure you don’t want to make a new friend today?”

Another quick shake of her head. “Kids are mean.”

“Amen to that.”

“Jesse,” Ash warned.

“Come on. They are mean.”

They could be, but there were plenty at Sunshine Academy who weren’t. Running down the list of kids Grimelda’s age, which looked to be about five, Ash remembered that one of the girls had dressed as a witch for Halloween and had given herself a unique nickname much as the redhead had.

“Will you let me introduce you to one little girl? I think you’ll like her.”

The bottom lip puckered again, but she didn’t refuse outright. “Why do you think I’ll like her?”

“Meet her and you’ll see.”

With a sigh well beyond her years, Grimelda agreed, and Ash felt as if he’d won a small victory. Locating the brunette near the giant blocks, he took his neighbor’s hand and said, “Let’s go.”

As they stepped away from the bench, Grimelda slipped her other hand into Jesse’s, who looked as if she’d been handed a live grenade and didn’t know what to do with it. Ash couldn’t help but smile at the picture they must have presented considering how much their small charge looked like the slightly taller version on her right.

Thirty feet later, they stood before a tower of teetering blocks. “Can I interrupt you for a minute?” Ash asked.

Shoving a curtain of black hair from her face, the small girl gave them her full attention. “Sure, Mr. Ash. Do you like my tower? There’s a princess trapped at the top, and I’m going to rescue her.”

“How are you going to do that?” Grimelda asked.

“Knock it down, of course.” As Ash had hoped she would, the brunette added, “Do you want to help?”

The pucker returned. “I’d rather cast a spell to make it fall away instead.”

A tiny finger tapped a dimpled chin. “That could work, too. I’m Belle Pepper. What’s your name?”

“I’m Grimelda O’Riordan.”

Belle took her new friend’s hand and pulled her closer to the tower. “Okay, Grimelda, let’s save Princess Flufferbutt together.”

Mission accomplished, Ash backed away as Jesse whispered, “How did you know that would work?”

“You just find something they have in common. Belle was a witch for Halloween, and she has a great imagination. That seemed like the right fit.”

They stood back and watched Grimelda wave a twig in the air seconds before Belle knocked the tower over.

“Wow,” Jesse mumbled, “you’re a kid whisperer.”

Ash laughed and took her hand. “Come on. It’s time to show you why you’re here.”

Jesse was still processing Ash’s magical friend-finder abilities when he whisked her into the large brick building and down a narrow hall that instantly took her back to grade school. Rudimentary drawings decorated the walls, and a large bulletin board read, If you can dream it, you can do it, with a glittery rainbow arching bold and bright above the motivational saying. As they progressed farther into the building, she picked up the sound of tuning instruments.

So he had brought her here to meet musicians.

Jesse followed Ash into a large classroom to find half a dozen children of various ages and sizes, each with a guitar in hand.

“Good morning, everybody,” Ash said, tugging her along behind him. “I brought a special guest with me today.”

“Holy crap,” said a young girl with striking blonde hair. “You’re Jesse Gold.”

Removing her leather jacket, Jesse said, “You know me?”

A smile split the young girl’s face, revealing two rows of metal braces. “Are you kidding? The Honkytonk Daisies are my favorite. I’ve listened to your album, like, a million times.”

Jesse looked to Ash who grinned back in that sexy-smug way. “Virginia is one of my guitar students.”

“After seeing you in concert, I begged my mom for a guitar.” The teen extended her Yamaha acoustic toward Jesse. “Would you sign this?”

“Of course.” She looked around for something to use, and Ash produced a Sharpie from a cup on the small desk in the corner. After scrawling her autograph across the polished surface, Jesse stepped back and replaced the cap on the marker. “There you go.”

As far as surreal moments went, this one was definitely at the top of the list. No one had ever recognized her in public before—a fact Jesse attributed to how different her stage persona looked from her everyday appearance—and she’d certainly never been asked to sign someone’s guitar.

Virginia examined the signature from her upside-down view. “Oh my gosh. Mom is never going to believe this without a picture. Can we take a selfie?”

“After practice,” Ash cut in. “We’re already getting a late start.”

Undeterred, the excited blonde returned to her seat, color high and eyes wide. She showed the boy next to her—an older-looking kid with dark, curly hair and wire-rimmed glasses—her shiny new autograph. If Ash brought Jesse here to boost her ego, he could consider it mission accomplished.

Hands itching to play, she realized she was missing something. “I didn’t bring a guitar,” Jesse whispered to Ash. “Why didn’t you tell me I needed one?”

“I keep a couple here, so I don’t have to carry one in every weekend. Or in case one of the kids forgets theirs.” Whipping a set of keys from his pocket, Ash unlocked a door behind the desk, disappeared inside what she assumed was a storage closet, and then reappeared carrying two hard cases. “Here you go,” he said, handing one to Jesse.

She set the instrument across a couple desks and opened the case, heart nearly stopping when she got a look at what was inside.

“This is a Takamine Pro Series 7.”

“Yep,” Ash replied, clicking open his own case.

Jesse blinked in astonishment. “You keep a three-thousand-dollar guitar locked in that closet? And you let these kids use it?”

Holding a Gibson Hummingbird, he said, “Normally, I’d use that one, but you’re a special guest so you get it today.”

Now he was messing with her. “You keep over five thousand dollars’ worth of guitars here all the time? What do you keep at home?”

With a casual shrug, he withdrew several picks from his jeans pocket and passed one her way. “I have a solid collection. A few more Gibsons. Fender, Epiphone, Martin. Enough to fill out any spontaneous jam sessions that might come about.”

Except for not being on stage, Ash was living the life Jesse wanted. She’d been part of the Nashville music scene for five years but had yet to fully wedge her way in. Granted, Ash had been here longer and had enough number ones to earn his credibility, but dang, she wanted what he had.

While Jesse was still admiring her guitar-for-the-day, Ash settled on a tall stool in front of the gathering and started the class. “Everyone warmed up?”

A collective yes echoed from the students.

“Good. First, let me introduce our guest.” He turned to find Jesse hadn’t lifted the guitar from the case. “What are you doing back there?”

“Working up the courage to pick this baby up.”

Ash lowered his voice. “It’s a guitar, Jesse, not a priceless work of art.”

The heck it wasn’t.

“You’ve been playing since you were younger than these guys,” he reminded her. “Let’s go.”

Jesse did as ordered, loving the feel of the instrument in her hands. After taking the stool beside his, she gave the strings a quick strum and had a musical orgasm. “This is awesome.”

“Keep it together, Rheingold,” he mumbled, the use of her real name shocking her into paying attention. “Let’s show Ms. Jesse what we can do. ‘Brown Eyed Girl.’ Everyone ready?”

After another collective response, Ash dove into the opening riff of the classic Van Morrison song. He’d used the same tune to teach Jesse nearly two decades before, and she remembered the chords well. Eight bars in, the kids joined him, every last one of them singing in harmony. The explosion of sound took her by surprise, but she recovered another bar in and picked up with the ensemble. Three minutes later, after several sha la las, the song ended with one final chord, and Jesse couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun.

“Great job, you guys,” she said, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “Y’all are really good.”

“You want to take lead vocals for one?” Ash asked her.

“What are my options?”

Holding her gaze, he said, “‘Ring of Fire.’”

The song she’d sung in her first public performance ever, and one of Jesse’s favorites. The look in his eyes said he remembered the fifth-grade talent show as well as she did. Jesse had forgotten that though neither of her parents could be bothered to watch, Ash had surprised her after the show, still dressed in his dirty baseball uniform, to congratulate her on the triumphant debut.

He’d been there from the beginning, and Jesse realized he was trying to remind her why she started playing music in the first place. The kids murmured their approval of the song choice, and Ash kicked them off. By the end of the song, Jesse knew without a doubt that this would not be her last visit to the Sunshine Academy.

“I can’t believe how good those kids are,” Jesse said as she returned the guitar to its case.

Ash was proud of his students, but even prouder of Jesse. She’d humored Virginia and posed for a series of pictures, even taking one on her own phone and sharing it to Instagram. The young girl had nearly passed out from excitement.

“They’re a talented bunch,” he replied.

“How long have you been working with them?”

“I’ve been teaching here for about six years, but this group averages around nine months or so.” Of all that Ash had achieved since moving to Nashville, running the music program at Sunshine Academy was one of his most satisfying endeavors. “Butler—the older one with the curly hair—has been with me just over a year. He was falling into the wrong crowd, so his mom was looking for something to keep him out of trouble.”

“And music was that something.”

Ash nodded. “It was. The kid took to it much like you did. Like he was born to play.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said. “I remember the early days when I couldn’t find a chord to save my life.”

“Nobody is great from day one.” He let her close the guitar case, and then carried them both back to the closet. Returning, Ash said, “Once upon a time, Jimmy Page couldn’t play a G-chord.”

Jesse pulled on her leather jacket. “I can’t imagine that.”

“But it’s true.”

“Oh, thank goodness you’re still here.” Millie Hopewell burst into the room, more disheveled than usual. “I just received some wonderful news.”

He’d never seen her so animated. “What is it, Millie?”

She waved the letter in her hand. “We’ve been invited to participate in a Christmas show at the Ryman. Our students are going to be on television!”

“That’s a big deal,” Jesse said with a genuine smile.

“Isn’t it, though? They want both the choir and the musicians. I can’t wait to tell the children.”

Ash headed up both those groups. “How did they hear about the academy?” he asked.

Millie shrugged. “I have no idea, but who cares? This kind of exposure can do wonders for our programs.” She hugged the letter to her chest. “The children are going to be absolutely thrilled. All of the parents are invited to be part of the audience, and you’ll be center stage as their leader.”

“I’ll be what?” Ash didn’t do stages. Not ones the size of the Ryman—which was sacred ground as the previous and still occasional home of the Grand Ole Opry. He definitely didn’t do television. “I doubt they’ll need me on stage.”

“You’re the musical director of Sunshine Academy. The children couldn’t possibly go up there without you.”

“You’re the musical director?” Jesse cut in. “I thought you just a volunteer.”

“Just a volunteer? Ash is an important part of this facility, and I don’t know what we would do without him.” Millie offered Jesse a warm smile. “I’m glad you joined us today, Ms. Gold. And I hope you’ll come back.”

“I plan on it,” Jesse replied, surprising Ash, who was still shell-shocked from the TV news.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She gave a non-committal shrug. “This was fun.”

He’d hoped to put Jesse’s focus back on the music and not all the other distractions that came with trying to make it in this town. He’d never expected her to pay a return visit.

“Wonderful. Just wonderful.” Millie straightened the letter she’d nearly crumpled and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “The taping is the middle of next month, and the producers asked to set up a meeting to discuss expectations and ideas. As soon as I have a date for that, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good,” Ash replied, forcing enthusiasm into his voice.

Millie turned and nearly floated from the room. “We’re going to be on television.”

Jesse turned his way. “You’re going to be on stage at the Ryman. I’d kill to do that.”

Ash nodded and led her from the room with only one thought in mind.

Better you than me.