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“Do they treat you like an outsider?”

I lift a shoulder, thinking about Patsy’s invitation to The Rattler. “Not always. But I think people don’t know what to do with me.”

“You’re figuring out your place, Mollie. That’s up to you to decide. It’s like you’re feeling your way through the dark right now. You’ve never done any of this before. I say you try it all on and see what feels right.”

Try it all. The advice circles around my brain.

“I like that idea too.”

“Good. And who knows? Maybe you’ll end up having some fun with that hot cowboy while you’re at it.”

“No thank you.”

But my reply is half-hearted at best.

CHAPTER 13

Mollie

RED FLAGS

The smellof stale beer and cigarettes permeates the air.

The floor is sticky enough that my boots make a crackling sound every time I take a step.

The only light comes from the neon beer signs hung haphazardly across the walls. On the far side of the space, there’s a stage, where Sally, Patsy, and—ha!—Goody’s paralegal, Zach, are setting up for Frisky Whiskey’s show.

The Rattler is, in other words, the perfect dive bar. Stepping through the door, three Rivers boys hot on my heels, the bone-deep exhaustion I’ve felt all day lifts.

I love it.

I also know it somehow. A vague memory takes shape inside my head. I was on the dance floor with Mom and Dad, the three of us lined up together in front of the stage.

“Hey, Wyatt?” I ask.

He turns to look at me. “What’s up?”

“Do they host line-dancing lessons here?”

“As a matter of fact, they do.” He grins. “Every Wednesday, once in the afternoon and once in the early evening.”

That’swhy I recognized The Rattler when I first drove into town. My parents took me here to learn how to line dance.

How cute. My heart somersaults at the idea that Mom and Dad liked each other enough to do something fun together like that. Makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside that they included me too.

I follow Wyatt and the other cowboys to the bar. I wondered where the hell everyone got the energy to go out on a Friday night after a long-ass week on the ranch. But when the bartender, a woman with a shock of bright blonde hair and dancing blue eyes, looks up from emptying a dishwasher and smiles at us, I get it.

The vibe, the band, the sense of anticipation in the air—you just know you’re about to have a good time.

And, yeah, considering the multiple bombs that’ve been dropped on me lately, I could really use a drink. I can’t stop thinking about what Jen said—the stuff about Cash being scared and life becoming more vibrant in a small town in a way she wasn’t expecting.

Is that what’s happening to me?

“Whatcha drinking?” Wyatt settles his elbows on the bar beside me.

He drove Duke, Ryder, and me to town in one of Lucky Ranch’s pickups. Sally and Patsy drove separately so they could get here early to set up. Sawyer’s back at the ranch, putting Ella to bed, and Cash is…I don’t know where.

I tell myself I don’t care.