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Out past the paddock gate, I turned Blue, lining him up with the other fourteen riders and their mounts, so we could all wave and call out goodbyes. Mama waved and tossed me a smile, but I didn’t bother waving back. I still hadn’t forgiven her. I wasn’t so sure I ever would.

My uncle Red and Devo’s mama hooted and hollered from the sidelines, and I nodded to them and tipped my hat.

The mountains behind us were calling, and like so many times in the past, I wanted to get lost out there. I wanted to forget the last month had ever happened.

My legs flexed of their own accord, ready to squeeze Blue right into a run. My back tensed, jaw clenched, and I pushed up in my stirrups. Opening my reins to my right, I turned… but something called me back to the crowd. A whisper floating high on the lazy summer breeze.

The cattle bayed and lowed in their pens, waiting for the gates to be opened at last, so hearing much over that ruckus wasn’t likely.

The person I wanted to see wasn’t there anyhow.

Age and our different experiences, the juxtaposition of Aubrey and me kept her from throwing off her inhibitions and giving herself fully to me. Our families hadn’t helped, but it all came down to Aubrey.

She had to let herself need me.

She had to let herself love me, but her absence today made it clear she’d never be mine. Somehow, I’d have to figure out how to get over her.

I’d loved Aubrey my whole life. Would I mourn the loss of her for the rest?

I clicked my tongue twice, ready for Blue to carry me away from all this goddamn heartache.

He nodded, shook out his mane, and took two steps, but I heard that impossible whisper again, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw a rose-gold halo bobbing through the crowd, weaving in and out between everyone back by the barn.

And I could’ve sworn I’d heard the angel wearing that halo call my name.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

AUBREY

Who knewa last-minute wardrobe malfunction would almost ruin the rest of my life?

I’d almost missed him! But there Rye sat atop the most beautiful horse I’d ever seen, the blueish-gray color of his coat separating Rye and Blue at the end of a line of cowboys on their horses.

This was it, the last goodbye before their drive. I recognized Grady Sr. at the opposite end of the line, looking stoic and like Kevin Costner in his black felt hat, and I realized then that I had more in common with Calla Graves than I wanted to admit.

God, my man was a vision, his hair curling beneath his tan hat and his strong thighs holding him steady on his steed. His arms were bare; he wasn’t wearing his usual denim button down, but I didn’t mind one bit. His hands holding his horse’s reins, covered by riding gloves, looked strong and sure.

My book-club friends had convinced me to wear the pink dress Rye loved when I told them at our emergency meeting all the beautiful things he’d said to me, and how no matter how much I’d tried, I couldn’t stop loving him.

Was it too soon? They’d all agreed, yes.

Did we care? Not a one of us.

And when I tried on the dress in the library’s bathroom and couldn’t get it zipped up the back, Phil had rushed out to her truck. She returned with a travel sewing kit, ripped that zipper right out, added fabric from a similarly colored pink T-shirt Sam happened to have had in her bag, and then Phil hand sewed inserts on either side of the zipper so I could fit my forty-seven-year-old ass into the dress. Man, that woman had fast fingers.

She said she’d mend it properly later, but for now, it would have to do, and then Roxi drove me to G&S Ranch in her cruiser, lights on and speed limits ignored. Our friends followed in their cars, and as soon as we’d parked, Daisy went on a walkabout to find Rye’s mama. She wasn’t planning to let Calla ruin things for Rye and me.

As I took off in search of my destiny, I realized the Graveses’ property looked like the freaking county fair with all the people, shade tents, and picnic tables. I smelled massive amounts of barbecue sauce and strawberries, but I didn’t see any of it because the only thing I could focus on was Rye in the distance.

Somewhere behind me, my friends cheered me on as I weaved in and out of all the people congregating in the pasture next to the biggest rust-red-colored barn.

The other riders’ friends and families called out their goodbyes. There were wishes of “good luck,” and I heard lots of “I love you”s, but I wasn’t going to say it until I knew for sure Rye would hear it.

Raising my hand above my head while I held the dress out of the dirt with the other, I shouted his name.

People had started to notice my desperate sprint toward the man I loved. Women moved out of my path, tugging their little kids out of the way by their shirts and dirty hands. One little boy dropped his popsicle when his mama pulled him out of my way, and he wailed his disappointment. Normally, I would’ve stopped and found him a new popsicle, but not today.

Today, the title “Mom” was the last thing on my mind.