My brain goes into problem-solving mode, trying to figure out my next move. I could just leave Wild Vista. I’m a lot more relaxed than I was coming right off tour. I can go to Nash’s andhang out in his guest house a little early. But when I picture leaving Dark & Prickly, my stomach bottoms out.
“Okay. That’s nothing to worry about, right?”
“Not on its own. But one of the lifeguards noticed the similarities while we were washing off the canoes.”
“It makes sense, I guess.” I scrubmy hand over my beard. “Thanks for telling me.”
“There’s an extra room over the saloon that’s not in use. We can move you there. I can also put you on fence duty only and keep you away from people.”
I duck my head, pressing my lips together for a moment. “I appreciate it, Luce, but that wasn’t why I did this. I wanted to return to my roots, and this is really helping with that.” I look down at my hands, the calluses forming at the base of my fingers from the fencing wire, a blister healing on my right palm. Back on tour, my hands had calluses on the tips of my fingers. Out here, they feel earned. My grandpa would recognize these hands. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay, as long as you’re fine with things.”
She walks over to me and pulls me in for a hug. “You are always welcome here, Cameron. Anyone who causes trouble will have to leave the ranch. Why don’t you head over to the glamping tents for a couple of hours? The area is being rented out tomorrow by a bridal party. It’s empty for now.”
She pats my cheek before leaving me in the office to think about my changing motivation for staying at Wild Vista Ranch. And now it has everything to do with a prickly pear of a woman. With incredible talent. And the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. I grab my guitar and pop it in the UTV before driving over to the glamping section.
Lucinda and her husband, have done a great job building out the different sections of the ranch over the years. The glamping tents are along the Wild Ridge River, kind of set away from thecabins. It’s popular to rent out because they have heat and AC plus their own restrooms and showers. My mom and Lucinda book those tents once a year for a girls’ getaway in the fall. And I can see why.
I walk over to a tent close to the river and sit on the porch, strumming the opening notes to my new song. I can’t quite get the bridge right, but I’m close. I haven’t had much time to play my guitar since there’s really nowhere to do it without other people watching.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen.
Nash: Bro. Bree says she’s on vacation with you? WTF?
Cam: Not even funny. Against your contract.
Nash: That’s not a clause. Read the fine print.
Cam: I hear Cage Winters over at Magnum Records needs a new artist. He’s easier to deal with than your cocky ass.
Nash: Fair.
Cam: Bree and Izzy just happened to show up here. All is well.
Nash: Declan says to keep your hands to yourself.
Cam: Tell Declan I’m too afraid of her.
Nash: He says there’s room at the table for you when you get back to town.
I pocket my phone, still grinning, and grab my guitar.
I’m about ten minutes in when a pair of black Chucks appear in front of me as I’m looking at the ground. I look up and can’t help the wide grin that spreads across my face.
“Prickly pear. You like to go glamping?” I wink.
She rolls her eyes and sits beside me on the wood slats, her shoulder bumping into mine. “The cabin is as close to glamping as I will ever get.”
I squint my eyes and cock my head. “I don’t believe that for a second. Why is that? Because you’re here and you like it.” I shoulder-bump her back. And she laughs. A real laugh this time.
“Someday I’m going to bring my sons here. They’re too young right now.” She watches my face for a reaction. And I give her one. My eyes go wide, my eyebrows shoot up, and I lean back in surprise and a little confusion.
Before I can say anything, she says, “I’m single. My boys are eighteen months old. And their father is that in name only.”
My face drops. “That’s terrible.” I think about how supportive my step dad has been, and knowing the boys’ dad is out there somewhere and not even interested? What an ass.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She shrugs, tapping her sneakers together. “They’ll know who he is, but I don’t want them spending time with someone who doesn’t want to be in their life. That can’t be good for them.”
“True.” Something shifts and settles in my chest, quick and quiet, like a key finding the right lock. “You sound like a great mom.”
