Page 14 of Rebel Moon

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

His laugh rumbled out of him, loud in the silence and startling another bird out of a tree somewhere. Duchess flinched but didn’t bolt. Thank God.

“Please don’t let me die,” I said.

“You’re not going to die.”

“Good, because there are people who need me.” I let that slip before I realized what I’d said. “My clients, I mean.”

He gave me a quick once over, and I could tell he knew that wasn’t who I was thinking of in that moment. I looked away.

“Lead the way, Cash,” I said.

Cash shook his head and then began to walk. Duchess and I followed. Lost in the Montana backcountry with Knox Hartley should have been a disaster, but it was kind of nice. In this setting, I felt safe with him. I might be comfortable in a negotiation with suits, but this seemed to be his domain. He’d taken on the role of protector, and I was surprised to find I didn’t mind. Not at all. Odd and slightly alarming, I thought, before setting it aside to pay attention to what was going on around me.

The trail widened, allowing the horses to walk shoulder to shoulder.

“Why ‘River?’” Knox asked after a minute.

“What?”

“Your song choice last night. Why ‘River?’”

“I don’t know how to explain it exactly,” I said. “Especially to you.”

“Why me?”

My instinct was to deflect, but the fresh air must have been messing with my head. “Because you’re so immensely gifted. So good at your craft. Talking about music with you is intimidating.”

“Pretend it isn’t,” Knox said. “And answer my question.”

“First off, I know it’s not a Christmas song, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“I’m not,” he said.

“The ache of regret in the lyrics and the music speak to me.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Snow caught in Duchess’s mane, each flake holding its shape for a split second before it melted. We continued down the trail, snow falling all around us. For a moment I imagined us in a snow globe, the world outside of our bubble untouchable—just us and Cash and Duchess and this beautiful countryside.

“Why the music industry?” Knox asked. “You could’ve chosen anything. Why this?”

“Country music has been my solace since I was a kid. Listening to the radio was free, so no one could keep it from me. My mother had a record collection she’d inherited from my grandfather. It was massive, with every record you could think of. Waylon. Dolly. Haggard. Charlie and I spent a lot of afternoons that way.”

“Charlie?”

“My little sister. She’s ten years younger than me. My mom worked a lot, so I looked after her a lot. She’s my everything.”

“Yeah?” He peered at me from under his black hat.

“After school, I’d rustle up a snack for us and then we’d put on a record and just sit on the floor to listen before starting homework. Those were some of the best moments of my life.”

“What did your mom do for a living?”

“Worked at the local factory. Dad ran off right after Charlie was born.”

“What’s Charlie up to now?”