“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he says without hesitation.
This time, it’s my cheeks that burn.
“You’re bold with your compliments,” I say, trying to sound teasing.
He tips back the last of his drink and gives a soft shrug. “You never know when you’re getting your only chance. I know we’re of different worlds, but when you passed by me earlier, all I hoped for was to learn your name.”
I’ve never had a man speak to me the way he does, so openly, so easily. It’s like each word is meant just for me. Phillip never looked at me twice, let alone said anything worth remembering. But this man already offers sweet words so soon after meeting him. My eyes linger on his face, trying to make sense of the moment.
His hat is gone now, and a single curl has fallen onto his forehead. I could lose myself in that curl, in the warmth of his gaze, in the way he lingers near enough to stir something inside me without ever crowding the space between us. There is a familiarity in him that I can’t explain, as though we have shared this quiet before in another lifetime.
“Well,” I start, trying to keep my voice steady, “you know my name, Cowboy. What’s your next wish?”
My heart flutters at my own boldness, thumping loud enough I’m sure he must hear it.
He smiles. “How long do you have?”
“Only a minute or two,” I reply, glancing toward the lights beyond the tents. “I really should get back before someone notices I’m gone.”
He takes the cup from my hand and sets it down on the grass beside us, his fingers brushing mine with the barest whisper ofwarmth. Then he rises, his gaze locked to mine, “Can I ask for a dance?”
His voice carries a quiet hopefulness that makes me ache to say yes. The heat beneath my skin is unfamiliar, a spark I’ve never felt. I smile, letting myself slip into the rhythm of this moment, into the softness that seems to exist only between us.
“I’ll dance with you, Cowboy.”
He takes my hand in his, his fingers calloused but achingly careful. His other hand hovers at my waist, light as a feather, almost uncertain. I feel the faintest tremor in his touch, and it sends unexpected butterflies through me.
We begin to move slowly, not in time with the music beyond the tents, but to a rhythm all our own. The sounds of the fiddles drift over us, distant and dreamy, but we don’t pay them any mind.
“Are you in Hawthorn visiting?” he asks, his eyes fixed on the ground between us. There’s a space left deliberately open between our bodies, a small mercy he seems to offer me, a gentle reminder of respect.
“I’m just here for a few weeks,” I say softly. “I’ll head back to Cheyenne in August.”
He lifts his gaze then, and the grin that breaks across his face catches the moonlight like a secret. “City girl, huh?”
“You could say that.” My own smile rises without permission. “What ranch do you work on?”
“Devil’s Ridge, just outside of town. I’m a hand there.” His nod is simple, unadorned, but his eyes never leave mine.
“Well…I’m glad you wanted to know my name,” I whisper, aware of how close his presence feels even with that careful space between us.
His eyes soften, the grin still there, but it’s turned bold. “Want to know my next wish?”
My breath catches, and I lean in just slightly, the world narrowing until there’s only him and the night around us. “Tell me your wish, Cowboy.”
“I hope I can I see you again.”
Soft
Marcel 1986
I stay hidden,breath held, my back pressed against the shelves of the pantry. A coward, that’s what I am. Chicken shit for not walking out there and facing her. But right now, my heart’s thundering too loud for courage. I’ve dreamt of this moment, prayed for it until my voice went raw, but a small, cynical part of me never truly believed I’d see her again. Not like this. Not standing just feet away. I should have rehearsed what I’d say if this ever happened. I should havesomething. But my mind is blank, and the ache in my soul is overwhelming.
“Did you know him? Marcel?” Grace asks Eli, her voice gentle, laced with curiosity.
A warm grin spreads across Eli’s weathered face. “Yes, I did. A good man. You couldn’t find a better hand or a kinder heart.”
His words land heavy in the silence, heavier still in my chest. Men don’t usually speak that way about other men. But what he just said to her wraps around my soul.
