Page 34 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

Every question Sadie asked earned a real answer instead of polite tolerance. Every interruption got a smile.

Everyone seems to notice Arizona’s looks first. The copper hair and golden-brown eyes. The fact that half the male population of Dusty Spur suddenly forgets where they’re walking when she passes by.

What gets me is different.

It’s the kindness.

But I’ve already learned what happens when you start building a future around somebody who doesn’t plan on staying.

Tori taught me that lesson thoroughly.

Arizona isn’t making promises she can’t keep. If anything, she’s been honest from the start. Her life revolves around moving forward.

New towns and stages, new roads to travel.

Leaving isn’t a possibility for her. It’s practically part of the job description.

Which means I should stop replaying memories of her smile every time Sadie brings her up.

I just don’t know how.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Arizona

The Silver Bit is so crowded tonight I have to turn sideways to make it through the door. Every table is full, people line the walls with drinks in hand, and conversations bounce off the wood-paneled walls in a way that makes the whole place feel twice its size.

Balancing my guitar case against my hip, I weave through the crowd toward the stage.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

Riley’s grin stretches from one end of the bar to the other.

A wave of cheers follows his announcement.

I stop short and stare at the room. “Y’all are being ridiculous.”

“That’s exactly what famous people say,” Betty Lou calls from her table.

A few people clap. Somebody whistles.

I laugh despite myself and continue toward the stage. The small platform sits beside the fireplace, familiar enough now that I don’t have to think about where to put my feet.

Still, as I settle onto the stool and rest my guitar across my lap, a knot forms in my stomach.

I adjust the microphone and glance across the room while the conversations gradually fade.

That’s when I spot Red.

He’s leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, looking entirely too comfortable for a man who seems to spend half his life glaring at people. The sight of him sends an unexpected flutter through my chest.

Near the front, Emmett catches my eye and offers an easy smile that somehow manages to be both warm and a little shy.

I smile back.

Then I find Willy. He’s sitting backward on a barstool, hugging the backrest and grinning like he’s already heard every song I’m about to play.

The fool catches my eye and winks. I have to bite back a laugh.