CHAPTER ONE
Rhys
Fifteen years ago . . .
June popped out of the cabin when I pulled up. Her jean cutoff shorts framed the top of her curvy legs. She wore an orange Copper Summit T-shirt tied at the waist, and her sandals smacked the floorboards of the porch as she jumped up and down and waved. The long light-brown hair I loved to run my hands through hung loose. The excitement on her face blazed brighter than the summer Montana sun.
I swallowed hard. She was my world, and that world was coming to an end. I’d been through it once before, but I didn’t want to shatter hers.
I’d do anything to make sure June Kerrigan got to live out her dreams, and that wouldn’t happen for her in tiny Bourbon Canyon, Montana.
I got out of my pickup, my limbs heavy with dread. I was dressed for ranch work in my worn jeans, my beat-up boots, and an old T-shirt. Not for the trip June thought we were taking.
“Hey, babe.” She gestured to her car. The back seat was full of boxes and a guitar case. “You can toss your stuff right in. I left you half the trunk space but not as much of the back seat as I promised.”
My heart hung heavy at her grin. “I don’t have anything.”
Her smile dipped. “Oh. Okay. Is your dad dropping your luggage off when he grabs the pickup?”
That would’ve been the plan. We’d drive together to Nashville. June would work on becoming country music’s next rising star. I’d start college at Tennessee State University. We’d live together in a little apartment she’d found and she’d work as a server until someone discovered how fucking amazing she was.
June was my songbird, but she needed the world to hear her songs. She wanted to share her talent, and she should be able to. I wouldn’t be the one to stop her. “I’m not going.”
Her smile vanished. “What?”
“Dad’s leukemia . . .”
She ran down the stairs, her hair streaming behind her. “Oh my god. Did something happen? Did he get worse?”
“No.” Just thinking about Dad’s illness was making my throat close up. I stepped back from June and the comfort she’d offer. I had to stay strong. “It could be five years, it could be ten.” Dad’s leukemia diagnosis was fresh and so was the fear that came with it. He’d been tired for months, and I’d been picking up more ofthe slack. We had answers now, but I wished for sweet ignorance. “They need me. My place is in Bourbon Canyon.”
Relief flared, followed quickly by guilt. I wouldn’t have to move. I wouldn’t have to leave my dad and stepmom to handle a sweeping ranch that had grown to be too much for them too soon. I wouldn’t have to worry about stifling June’s rise.
Confusion played across her expression. “You’re... You’re not coming?”
“I canceled my enrollment at Tennessee State.” I had quit college before I’d even started. I shook my head and stuffed my hands into my jeans before I could capture a strand of her hair and tell her I was kidding, I’d absolutely be there with her every step of the way. If only I wouldn’t trip her up. “Dad needs me. Wren’s so damn stressed about the ranch.”
“He’s hiring someone to help, Rhys. So you can go.”
“He’s hiring me.”
Her expression remained bemused. “Your dadwantsyou to go.”
“He’d never tell me he needed me to stay.” I’d seen Dad’s stark relief. He’d have me to run the ranch. My stepmother would have me as support and to help with Dad if he... I bit back tears. As he got weaker.
“But he said he wanted you to go more than anything. He said he didn’t want to be the one ever holding you back. I was there, Rhys.”
“He was lying.”
“Jonathon Kinkade does not lie.” She folded her arms. “Your daddy wants you to go almost as much as me.”
“June . . . He might be dying.”
She blinked and a big tear rolled down her cheek. “I—I know. I’m sorry.” Another tear.
This time, I didn’t hold back. I captured the second drop with my thumb, wishing I could change it into a diamond. I’d wear it on a chain around my neck. A piece of June would be with me every day.
I rubbed the moisture between my thumb and forefinger. It was best I didn’t have a trinket to remind me of her. The task of forgetting the girl I’d loved since eighth grade would be impossible enough as it was.
