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Austin shook his head. “I’m sure he’s a good man, but after this long, he’s not gonna find anything. Whatever trails were left behind are nothing more than dust in the wind now.”

“I don’t want to go,” Loree insisted.

Austin sighed heavily. “Dee says you need to get out of the house—”

“I got out of the house last Sunday when you went to help Houston with his corral,” she pointed out.

She watched him work his jaw back and forth. She knew what she needed to do. She needed to tell him the truth and ask him for forgiveness. But what if he were unable to forgive her?

He held the tickets toward her. “This is a special performance. They’re only going to be in the theater tonight. Amelia offered to watch Grant—”

“And what if someone attacks you—”

Sympathy filled his eyes and he cradled her face. “Is that what’s worrying you? Now that you understand why I was attacked, you’re afraid I’ll get hurt?”

She nodded briskly. “Let’s just stay here, Austin.”

“Sugar, don’t you see? If we hide out here, then whoever attacked me has won. Whoever killed Boyd has won. And I’m not gonna let either of those bastards run my life.”

She turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t go.”

She expected further protests, but instead she only heard the echo of his boot heels as he left the room.

She could stop people from staring at him.

She could stop people from whispering about him.

She could stop people from attacking him.

But she couldn’t give him back the five years she had unknowingly stolen from him.

And without that, what good were the others?

She heard the sharp brief whine of the violin and spun around. Austin stood in the doorway, instrument in hand.

“Please?” He gave three quick strokes to the strings. “Please? Please? Please?”

She bit back her smile. “No.”

Three more quick strokes as he stepped into the room. “I’ll have to play something sad.” A forlorn sound filled the room. “And I’d rather play something happy.” He played a quick fast tune. “Give me a reason to play something happy.”

For him, she forced herself to set her fears aside. “All right.”

He whooped, tossed the violin onto the bed, clamped his hands on her waist, and lifted her toward the ceiling. “You’ll be glad, Sugar.”

She looked into his beloved face, his shining blue eyes, and wished to God that she’d never fallen in love with him.

The lobby was nearly empty when they arrived, and Loree couldn’t have been more grateful as Austin took her hand and rushed up the sweeping staircase to the balcony level.

He drew back the drapes and she stepped into the dark alcove. She barely made out Dee’s silhouette as the woman turned, smiled, and motioned them over. Loree eased down to the chair beside Dee.

Dee squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you could come. This is a special performance.”

Austin leaned forward. “What play is it anyway?”

Dee’s smile grew. “It’s not a play.”

The stage curtains parted to reveal a group of people sitting in a half circle, instruments poised. Loree’s breath caught as Austin wrapped his hand around hers and shifted up in his chair.

A man walked onto the stage, bowed sharply from the waist, then stepped onto a box. He lifted a long thin stick, swept it through the air, and music reached up to the rafters.

Austin’s hand closed more tightly around hers, and she knew he had spoken the truth. She was glad that she came, glad that she’d given him the opportunity to hear a symphony. She eased up in the chair, tears stinging her eyes at the sight of awe and wonder revealed on his face.

“Look at all those violins,” he whispered. “They’re all moving the same, like a herd of cattle heading to pasture.”

“They’re following the same music.”

“Reading those little black bugs. How long do you think it took them to learn to play together like that?”

“Years.”

“It’s mighty fine sounding, ain’t it?” he asked.

She brushed her fingers through his hair and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Mighty fine.”

They arrived home with no mishaps. Loree wished she could believe that Austin was safe. It had been a year since his release, six months since someone had slammed him into a building. If only she knew for certain that no harm would come to him, she could keep her secret buried deep within her soul.

Grant released a tiny mewling sound. She sat on the bed, unbuttoned her bodice, and smiled as he rooted at her nipple, his mouth working feverishly. “Got hungry, did you?” she asked as she brushed her fingers over his black hair.

“When you get bigger, you can help your pa put the horses away after we go to town.” Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m gonna get better, Grant. I’m gonna stop worrying.

I can’t change the past, but I can be a good wife and make everything up to your pa that way.

I realized that watching him tonight. Oh, you should have seen his face—”

She heard the front door close and shifted Grant within her arms. Austin walked into the room, dropped onto the bed, and tossed the sheets of music toward her hips.

“Teach me, Loree.”

She blinked her eyes. “What?”

“Teach me. I won’t complain. I’ll play the same song over and over and over—just like you wanted me to. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“It takes time—”

“Which is the one thing I haven’t got so just for tonight, teach me one song, one fancy song.”

She shifted Grant to her shoulder and began to rub his back. “You want me to teach you tonight?”

He rolled off the bed and began to pace.

“All my life, Loree, I’ve been searching for something, wondering where I belonged.

Dallas always knew that he belonged with cattle and Houston …

hell, he practically becomes a horse when he’s working with them.

But I never knew what I should do. Not until tonight.

“There was a time when I thought if I could make a violin I could find a way to live on forever. It never occurred to me that I could stand on a stage and fill people’s hearts with music.”

He dropped to his knees by the bed and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I want to go see Mr. Cowan—the conductor—tomorrow. I wanna play for him. I wanna ask him to take me with him, to let me be part of his orchestra.”

“What about us?”

“You and Grant will come with me. We might have to leave Two-bits with Rawley, but the boy loves him. He’ll give him a good home. And I’ll show you the world.”

The world. She would miss Two-bits, but she saw Austin’s dream reflected so clearly in his eyes of blue—burning brighter and hotter than any flame in the center of a fire, and she knew deep within her heart that every dream he had ever lost had been because of her.

This one last dream he had found was hers to give.

She laid Grant, asleep, on the bed beside her and combed her fingers through Austin’s dark, curling locks. “No,” she said quietly.

“No?” Confusion mired his eyes.

“No, I won’t teach you to play a song. If you’re going to impress Mr. Cowan, you’re going to have to play from your heart, and you’ll only be able to do that if you play the songs that are within you.”

She watched him swallow. “What if he doesn’t like what I play?”

“How can he not like it? You have a rare gift. Your heart isn’t in any of the songs I gave you for Christmas. You need to play one of your songs.”

“Which one?”

“The one that means the most to you.”

He gave a slow hesitant nod. “How can I convince him that I’ll be able to play with the others?”

“You just play for him, and he’ll find a way to make it work.”

“Will you iron my Sunday-go-to-meetin’ shirt?”

She smiled. “And I’ll cut your hair and trim your nails.”

He chuckled. “You probably ought to shave me, too.” He lifted his hands. “Look at how much I’m shaking.”

She wrapped her hands around his. “Just play from your heart.”

“I want this, Loree, like I’ve never wanted anything.”

She saw him off at dawn, his violin safely housed in the wooden case she’d given him for Christmas, tucked beneath his arm. Then she sat on the top step, Grant in her arms, and waited.

She gauged the distance into town, the time it would take him to play, and figured he’d ride home at a gallop. It was late morning before he returned, and she’d never been so glad to see anyone.

He dismounted, set the violin case on the porch, and sat beside her.

“Brought these for you,” he said, holding out a handful of red and yellow flowers.

“They’re beautiful,” she said as she took them.

“I couldn’t find you any that were blue.”

“That’s all right. I like these.”

He touched Grant’s tiny fist. The boy’s fingers un- furled and wrapped around the larger finger that was waiting for him.

“He’s got a strong grip,” Austin said quietly. “It won’t be much longer, and he’ll be able to hold a bow.”

“I didn’t think it’d take you this long,” Loree said, anxious to know all that had transpired. “I guess you had a lot of details to work out, traveling to arrange—”

“He can’t use me, Loree.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d told her the sun was going to start setting in the east. “Is he deaf?”

He gave her a sad smile. “No.”

“Why didn’t he want you?”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob. “He didn’t think the people in his company would be comfortable traveling with a murderer.”

“But you’re not a murderer!”

“The law says I am and that’s all that matters.” He unfolded his body. “I need to change clothes and repair some fence for Dallas on the east side.”

She watched him disappear into the house, and even without the aid of his violin, she heard his heart breaking.

Loree drew the wagon to a halt and studied her husband, standing with one leg straight, one leg bent, his elbow resting on the gnarled and crooked fence post, the barbed wire curling on the ground like a ribbon recently removed from a girl’s hair.

His hat shadowed his face, but she knew he was staring in the distance, toward the railroad tracks that he couldn’t see, but knew existed. She heard the lonesome train whistle rent the afternoon air.

Austin stepped back, turned, slid his hat up off his brow with his thumb, and gave her a warm lazy smile. “Hey, Sugar, wasn’t expecting to see you out here.”

He ambled to the wagon and Loree’s throat grew tight. “I brought you some lunch.”

“I sure could use some.”

He put his hands on her waist and lifted her off the bench seat. “Could use a little sugar, too,” he said, his gaze holding hers.

She raised up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him as she hadn’t in weeks.

“Mmm, I’ve missed that.” Reaching around her, he grabbed the picnic basket while she picked up Grant.

She sat on the quilt Austin had spread over the ground and laid Grant near her hip. Austin stretched out beside her.

“You caught me daydreaming,” he said, his voice low.

“What were you dreaming?”

“Different things. I ran into Houston on my way back from town this morning, and we got to talking.”

“About what?” she asked, handing him a hunk of cheese. She’d thrown the picnic together as hastily as they’d thrown their marriage together.

He set the cheese aside as though it really held no interest for him.

“He’s gaining a wides-pread reputation for having the best horse flesh this side of the Rio Grande.

He’s needing some help so I offered to start working for him on my off-day.

I thought we could set the money aside until we have enough to go somewhere on a little trip. ”

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever you want.” He leaned toward her and cupped her chin. “I’m gonna give you a good life, Loree. You’ll see. It might never be filled with any of the things you dreamed of, but it’ll be good.”

“If they found the person who killed Boyd McQueen—everything would change for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Damn sure would. But that’s not gonna happen, Loree. It’s been six years. The fact of the matter is that man got lucky, and I didn’t.”