Page 23 of Whispers of Sweetwater

‘Break a leg,’ she said, tilting her head, her tone light despite the butterflies flitting wildly in her chest. ‘But don’t sing anything by Nickelback.’

He grinned, eyes catching hers with that same disarming ease. ‘Now that’s a dealbreaker.’

And then he was gone, weaving through the crowd towards the stage with that slow, grounded stride that didn’t ask for attention but drew it all the same.

Brianna sat back down beside Molly, trying not to look as expectant as she felt. The band quietened. A few last laughs were hushed. Then Hayden stepped forwards, guitar in hand, and adjusted the mic with the practised ease of someone who didn’t mind being seen.

He didn’t say much. Just, ‘Evening,’ and a nod to the crowd.

And then he started to play.

The first notes were clean and slow, a fingerpicked melody that melted into the evening air like smoke curling from a campfire. His voice followed – low, textured, warm with just enough gravel to make it feel honest. Like everything else about him. And that was what undid her. She sat very still, one hand resting on Sherlock’s head, the other curled loosely around her wine glass. The lyrics, old and poetic and tender, wrapped around her chest like an invisible thread, pulling tight in all the places she hadn’t expected.

She didn’t want to feel this.

She didn’t want it to feel so real.

But damn it, this man, this horse trainer with quiet eyes and callused hands, was peeling her open, one song, one glance, one moment at a time.

And tonight, she had no idea how to stop it.

CHAPTER 7

Hayden walked alongside the fence line, the creak of taut wire under his gloved hands a comfortingly familiar sound. And today, after weighing up this damn bet with Gavin for half the bloody night when he should have been sleeping, he needed home comforts. Beside him, Gavin was shouldering a coil of fencing wire, his usual swagger muted by the quiet rhythm of hard work. The two of them moved in unison, boots crunching over the gravelly track that lined the south paddock of Sweetwater Acres. Strong, hulking Jacko – the young gelding Hayden had been working with the last couple of months for an outback cattleman who wanted a reliable mustering horse – watched them with intelligent, alert eyes from the nearby yard. His ears flicked with curiosity, his dark bay coat shimmering after a recent brush. In the paddock alongside him, Duchess pranced up and down the rustic timber barrier, clearly trying to woo her neighbour with her striking grace and sassy strut. Hayden chuckled to himself as he crouched to assess the bottom of a post. Then he glanced at Gavin, wondering when he’d feel it was the right moment to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on him. The conversation between them had been light up until now. The usual things like weather patterns, broken irrigation, a new feed mix they were planning for the horses. But as he straightened and leant against the post, surveying the wide expanse of land stretching beyond the fences, the weight in his chest, the one he’d been trying to ignore, settled deeper.

And with that irrefutable sensation, he glanced over at Gavin. ‘I’m out.’

Gavin, tightening the fencing wire with his pliers, didn’t look up. ‘Out of what?’

‘The dare, the bet, whatever it is you want to call it.’ Hayden’s voice was quiet but resolute.

That got Gavin’s attention. He dropped the pliers into the metal bucket at his boots with a clang and turned, brows lifting. ‘You serious?’

‘Deadly.’ Hayden met his gaze. ‘I don’t want to be part of something like this. Not with her.’

Gavin folded his arms, expression unreadable. ‘Didn’t think you still cared about dares and bets at our age. I mean, you’re the one who agreed to do it; I didn’t force you, mate.’

Hayden didn’t flinch. ‘Yeah, and I was a bloody idiot for doing it. I don’t even know why I said yes.’ He let out a slow breath, scraping a gloved hand through his already mussed hair. ‘She’s not some challenge, Gav. Not a game. I don’t want her to be diminished to something as shallow as that.’

Gavin’s posture relaxed slightly, and he reached down to retrieve the pliers. ‘I know.’

‘You know?’ Hayden echoed, frowning.

Gavin nodded and crouched beside the post again, fixing the wire in place. ‘That was the point, mate. Me and the wife came up with the plan the day I wagered it.’

‘What bloody plan?’ Hayden’s tone was short, snappy.

Gavin just shrugged as he kept on working. ‘You’ve been walking around like a ghost for four years. You haven’t let anyone in. Not really. Not since Casey, well, you know …. He tightened the wire and gave it a sharp pull. ‘Tilly and I figured if I poked the bear a little, got you thinking about someone other than your horses, maybe you’d finally feel something again.’

Heck, even Tilly was involved – maybe on the sidelines, but involved all the same. Considering this, Hayden was silent for a long moment as he stared out and over the property.

‘We didn’t mean for you to hurt her,’ Gavin added quietly. ‘Or yourself. But come on, man. You’ve been existing, not living.’

Tilly had been Casey’s best friend. Hayden’s jaw clenched. ‘That’s a shitty way to go about it.’

‘Maybe,’ Gavin said, standing again. ‘But hey, sounds like it worked.’

‘Not really, Gav. I still don’t want a relationship with her.’ Hayden rubbed the back of his neck, shame flickering across his face. ‘Brianna’s smart. Kind. Real. I don’t want to be the guy who screws that up because I’m so screwed up.’