They poured themselves some coffee, got cleaned up again, and started on breakfast prep, knowing the smell of bacon would be enough to rouse the sleepy campers from their tents even if it wasn’t quite enough to lure the sun over the mountaintops.
“So, what’s the plan if we stop doing this?” Nicole asked, redirecting—but not necessarily in a direction Lily preferred. She knew money and the prospect of a future without any weighed heavily on Nicole’s mind; frankly, it was all Lily could think about, too.
“Don’t know yet. We can always work at Archie’s until we figure it out.”
A pat of butter hissed as it hit the hot griddle.
“What about the rodeo?” Nicole asked. “For the ranch. I used to make more barrel racing than a week working at Archie’s. I could enter, just to try?”
“I don’t know if Snoopy has it in him anymore,” Lily told her with a wince. “But I love you for thinking of it.”
Nicole growled, taking her frustrations out on the potatoes in front of her. “This is why people in movies do stupid shit for money. Maybe Cassidy had it right, and we should just rob a bank.”
“Didn’t work out so well for him,” Lily reminded her.
“Because he wasn’t a woman. Men are idiots.”
Lily laughed, dropping a handful of chopped onions into the hot cast-iron skillet. “Even if we have to pour beers and swindle every wannabe cowboy who walks in the place, we’ll figure it out. It’s you and me, remember?” Nicole nodded. “Let’s just get through this week and we’ll go from there.”
The rustle of canvas tent flaps cut through the sound of Nicole humming over the camp stove. When Lily glanced up, her gaze snagged on the shape of a man stepping through time.
The breath was knocked clear out of her.
Lily knew all about mirages in the desert, when light bent and refracted and moved through warmer air, causing the eye to see something that wasn’t there. She’d seen this particular mirage before, so it took her a moment to get her bearings and realize that this time was different. This time, it wasn’t a trick of the light or the air, or even wishful thinking.
This time, Lovesick City Boy was walking right toward her.
Chapter Five
SO, SHE BOLTED.
Without a word of explanation, Lily threw the wooden spoon onto the table and sprinted back over to where Bonnie lazily grazed. Ducking behind the horse, Lily hid from view, resting her forearm on her mare’s soft flank and working to get her pulse under control.
What in the hell?
Leo Grady was here.
Leo—the man who’d made her believe in happily ever after and then vanished without a word—was here?
Needing confirmation, she peeked over Bonnie’s back, and her heart vaulted into her windpipe. It was him, without a doubt.
Tall, lean, smooth honeyed neck visible above the collar of his North Face fleece. She’d know that neck anywhere; she’d recognize that posture and that long stride from half a mile away. The rest of him autofilled in her memory, and Lily squeezed her eyes closed, pushing away another deluge of images. It had taken her years to shove them out and here they were, roaring back like a flash flood, uninvited.
She would pray to a god if she believed in one. She’d take off in her truck if she didn’t mind leaving Nicole on her own. A glance down at her jeans revealed how worn and dusty they were; her shirt was faded blue chambray, with a big bleach stain on one sleeve. Immediately, Lily felt shabby. Her hair was braided for practicality, not style, and she was wearing more sunblock than makeup. She looked young for her age, but not really in the way most people meant when they said that. If her quick glimpse told her anything, it was that Leo had grown into a full-on man. Meanwhile, here she was, looking poor and unpolished and exactly like the girl he’d left behind all those years ago.
That is, if he even remembered her. Five months together had been wiped out in a single morning. One minute he was over her, cocooned in a blanket next to the river—eyes locked on her mouth, his bottom lip trapped tightly between his teeth—and the next they were inside, staring down at the ranch’s old answering machine with a red 29 flashing in insistent, mechanical panic.
The rest of that day unfurled in a blur: His mother had been in an accident. She would be fine, the messages said, but was in the hospital, and Leo needed to come home. Leo’d bolted to the bedroom, throwing things in a suitcase. He only managed to pack half of his things before it was time to go, before he sealed his mouth tightly to hers, promising he’d come back.