Bryce alerted his mom to the plan, and being his number one groupie, she insisted on packing some food for the campout. She was the only one down at the barn when he drove up and parked beside it. She had Winston standing at the hitching post while she tightened his cinch. The plastic tote nearby meant she’d groomed him first.

“Mom, you’re spoiling me again.”

Turning to him, she dusted off her hands. “I felt like it. I’m so happy I could spit.”

He grinned. “Go ahead.” He’d never seen her do such a thing but there was always a first time.

“I don’t spit. It’s an expression.” She stuck her hands in her hip pockets and rocked back on her heels. “I warned you about getting involved with Nicole, but if this is the result, I’m all for it.”

“How do you know I’m involved with her?”

She peered at him. “How long have you lived here, son?”

“All my life except for that trip to Texas this summer.”

“Then how can you ask me such a question? There’s no way I could not know you’re sleeping with Nicole.”

“Sleeping with her? Who said that? I—”

“You’re blushing.”

“Yeah, well…” He tugged his hat lower.

“I’ve been hearing rumors plus I had my own suspicions after the way she acted at the shower on Sunday.”

“How’d she act?”

“Skittish around me, especially when we played Pin the Penis on the Man.”

“You played what?”

“It’s like Pin the Tail on the Donkey, except—”

“Okay, never mind. I get it. And I get why Nicole might have been a little twitchy.”

“In any case, your trip to the salon on Tuesday and your humungous tip was a dead giveaway.”

“She deserved a good tip.” No point in asking how his mom knew about it. Everyone in the salon had watched him put the money in. A macho move on his part, sure, but fun, too. “She did a great job on my hair.”

“I’m sure she did. I’m happy for both of you.”

Aside from the embarrassment factor, he enjoyed knowing he was responsible for putting that sparkle in her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I have your grub in the tack room. I’ll get it.”

“Appreciate your fixing me something.”

“Like I said, I’m in the mood to help.” She picked up the tote and headed into the barn.

While she fetched his provisions, he pulled his bedroll and guitar case out of the truck and tied both behind Winston’s saddle. The butterscotch Paint was used to hauling his Martin around. They’d been on many such outings together.

His mom came out with a compact bag. “This should hold you until morning. Or mid-morning, in your case.”

“Thanks so much.”

“I know better than to invite you for breakfast.”

He chuckled. “Good call. If you’ll be around, though, I’ll stop by for a cup of coffee after I take care of Winston.”

“I’ll be around.” She gave him an assessing once-over. “You look good.”

“Probably the haircut.”

“It’s more than that, although from what I can see it’s a nice cut. You look relaxed and yet purposeful.”

“I’ll give Nicole credit for that.”

“I will, too. She impressed me at the shower on Sunday.”

“I thought she was skittish?”

“She was, but she demonstrated grace under fire. Oh, and one other fun thing. She taught Faith to dance Thriller.”

“No kidding! I would have loved to see that.”

“You might get to. Just one line dance was enough to light a fire under that woman. When she gets ten or fifteen minutes free, she’s up at the house watching dance videos and practicing. She wants to perfect her moves so she can take part in the dancing during the wedding festivities. I’ve helped her with things like waltzes and whatnot. I always was better at leading than following.”

That made him laugh. “I could say something about that but I won’t.”

“Yeah, better not.”

“Couldn’t Cody help her, too? He used to be Mr. Popularity on the dance floor at the GG.”

“I think she wants to learn on her own and surprise him with how well she does it. Don’t say anything to him.”

“Okay.”

“You know, I am curious about one thing. Have you met Nicole’s crazy cat?”

“He’s not so crazy. In fact, he’s—”

“I knew it! I knew you’d get around the cat situation. That’s good. I admired Nicole’s dedication to the cause, but she doesn’t need to have her entire life ruled by her cat.”

“I’m not saying Jimi’s ready for an open house, yet, but it’s a start.”

His mom stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “It is and I’m thrilled. Now ride off into the sunset, cowboy, and finish writing your song. Your public is waiting.”

“Mom, I don’t have a—”

“I’m not talking about millions. I’m talking about the good people of Eagles Nest, who have loved your music ever since you played for that animal shelter fund raiser.”

“You would bring that up.”

“That girl wasn’t worth your time. But I think this one might be.”

He met his mother’s clear-eyed gaze. “She is, Mom. I won’t make any predictions about where this is going because we’ve both been through some stuff, but she has a good heart.”

She patted his chest. “So do you. I’ll look forward to coffee in the morning, son.”

“You bet.” He swung into the saddle and touched the brim of his hat. “See you then.” A few yards away he turned in the saddle and she was still there, watching him leave. He waved and she waved back.

He hadn’t considered how the debacle with Charity must have affected her. He’d been too mired in his own tragedy to take note of anyone else’s pain. But her reaction to his new lease on life said so much. While he’d hurt, she’d hurt. That truth hadn’t sunk in before.

Her command to ride off into the sunset made him smile. She knew him so well. The trail to his favorite spot took him due west and he’d always timed these trips for sundown. His brothers were all about daylight but he was at his best when darkness arrived.

Riding into the campsite was like coming home. He hadn’t been out here in more than a year, but nothing much had changed. The wide clearing was anchored with one ancient juniper that still managed to put out a few clumps of dark green needles. Dismounting, he placed a hand on the gnarled trunk as if greeting an old friend.

Winston snorted and pawed the ground.

“Oh, right. Your carrots. Hope Mom remembered because I didn’t.” He dug out the food she’d packed and found a bag of carrots. He fed several to the horse as the peace of the clearing seeped into his soul and dusk crept over the landscape. “Well, Winston, we made it back.”

* * *

By four-thirty in the morning, Bryce had Winston bedded down in his stall. He found some paper and a pencil in the tack room, wrote his mom a quick note and tacked it to Winston’s stall door. He promised to come by for coffee later in the day. Then he hopped in his truck and drove to Nicole’s house.

Damn. It wasn’t even five yet. She needed her sleep. But she’d want to know about this. Okay, he was going in. Grabbing his guitar, he climbed the steps to her porch and crossed to her front door.

He hated to ring the doorbell. That would startle her. Maybe if he tapped on the door, instead, she’d eventually hear that. At least it would give him something to do. He tapped for a while. Nothing. Waited. Tapped some more. Still nothing. Or was that her on the stairs?

She threw open the door and he barreled through it, closing it quickly behind him. “I did it!” Setting his guitar on the floor, he scooped her into his arms and kissed her. His hat fell off, but so what. He just needed to hold her and keep on kissing her because she was the reason, the whole reason…

Eventually he had to come up for air, but he kept a tight hold on her while he dragged in a few quick breaths. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Jimi did.” She was gasping, too, but grinning. “You finished it!”

“I did, and I had to come straight here, but it’s really early, and I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m not.”

“I can see that.” The house was dark but enough light from the porch came through the etched glass in the door that he had a good view of her smiling face. And her pink chin where his beard had scratched her. “I gave you whisker burn.”

“I don’t care! Are you going to play it for me?”

“That was the idea. But I had to kiss you, first, and thank you. I couldn’t have done this if you hadn’t come into my life.”

“Oh, Bryce.” She teared up a little. “It’s been my pleasure.” She glanced around. “Where should we do this?”

“Your living room furniture scares me. I’ll break it for sure. Let’s go in the kitchen.”

“That works.”

He reached for his guitar case and then his hat. It was his black one and hard to see in the dark. When he finally spied the murky outline of the hat and grabbed the brim, he encountered resistance. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

He started laughing. “Jimi’s in my hat.”

“Just dump him out.”

“No, I don’t want to risk agitating him. I’ll worry about it later.”

“You may be sorry.”

“I won’t. It’s only a hat.” He followed her into the kitchen.

“I’ll just turn on the little light over the stove so we don’t blind ourselves.”

“Perfect.” He put his guitar case on the table. “I thought I’d be out there longer, but sometime around three-thirty, it all came together.”

“I’m so excited for you.” She sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

“I’m excited for myself.” He took out his trusty Martin. “I’m lucky I got it nailed down so fast. Saved my fingers a little bit.”

“Let me see.” She held out her hand and he placed his in it, palm up.

“Ouch. Maybe you shouldn’t play it for me.”

“Oh, no, I’m gonna play it. Once through won’t be too bad.” He took a seat and rested the guitar on his thigh.

“Do you have a name for it?”

“I’ve had that for a while. It’s called Whenever I Waltz with You.”

“Bryce!” Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes filled.

“Just listen.” Clearing his throat, he kept his attention on her as he began to sing. He’d put it all in there—the magic, the sensuality, the pleasure, the love—that last one was something they might not be ready to talk about yet, but he couldn’t have finished the song without it.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she swiped them away. She gulped back a sob a time or two, but she never took her gaze from his. When he finished, she swallowed and took a shaky breath. “I love it.”

“I was hoping you would.”

She sniffed and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her pajama top.

“Here.” He pulled a bandanna out of his back pocket.

She took it and smiled through a fresh bout of tears. “That’s…so perfect. You even have a bandanna for when I lose it.”

Happiness filled him to the brim. If he was any happier, he’d pop like a gigantic balloon. “You were supposed to lose it.”

She mopped her face and blew her nose. “No one’s ever written a song for me.” She stood and held out her hand. “If you’ll put down that guitar and come upstairs, I’d like to show my appreciation.”

“What about Jimi?”

“I imagine he’s too busy enjoying his new hat to care about us.”

“Okay, then.” He tucked the Martin back in its case and let her lead him up the stairs and into her bedroom. The cat didn’t follow so he closed the door. So far, so good, but he didn’t waste any time getting out of his clothes.

She was quicker than he was because she had less to take off, but instead of climbing in, she motioned for him to go ahead of her. “Lie down,” she murmured. “And let me love you.”

Heart pounding, he stretched out on the bed. Anticipation had pumped all his blood south, so when she took a condom from the drawer, he reached for it. “I can put that on.”

“So can I. Your only job is to lie there and enjoy yourself.” Smiling, she glanced at him. “Judging from your confused expression you’re not familiar with that concept.”

“I can’t—” His throat didn’t seem to want to work right. “I can’t say that I am.”

“Then it’ll be my pleasure to introduce you to it.” Unwrapped condom in hand, she climbed into bed, straddled his thighs and rolled on the condom.

Watching a beautiful naked woman suit up his bad boy was a treat. But that was nothing compared to the thrill when she braced her palms on his chest, held his gaze and gradually lowered herself, inch by inch.

Her voice was like velvet. “I think you like this.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He ran his hands down the silky expanse of her back and cupped her firm bottom. “I thought I’d only get to play you my song.”

“And then leave?” She eased upward and slid back down.

He sucked in a breath. “There’s Jimi, and work, and…” He moaned softly as she began a slow rhythm.

“And what?”

“I forgot.” He pressed his fingertips into her smooth bottom as she continued to pump. “Damn, that feels good.”

“For me, too.” Leaning forward, she slowed the pace and brushed a kiss over his lips. “I love my song.”

“I loved writing it for you.”

“When you said you were writing one, I never dreamed…” She sighed and kissed him softly. Then she drew back and looked down at him, warmth in her eyes. “Thank you.”

His breath caught. She was falling for him. He was a lucky, lucky man.