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Wyatt'sforearm was leaning on the steering wheel, his fingers strumming the dash in time with the music. “Yep, eachJulyFourthweekend.It’sthe biggest fundraiser we have here inSummitCounty.”
Theypulled up to theRiverwalkCenter, a large indoor-outdoor facility, surrounded by expansive green lawns.Astage had been set up at one end.TheBlueRiverflowed beneath several flower-laden pedestrian bridges, the soaring mountains in the background.Lilywas struck by the jaw-dropping setting.
Theparking lot was full andWyattmade a spot for his truck on a grassy embankment with hundreds of vendor tents.Everythingfrom fresh-picked produce and homemade jams to personalized dog leashes.
“Thisis a fundraiser?” she asked, marveling.
“Yep, a percentage of all the proceeds goes to charity.Helpingat-risk kids with paid-for after-school activities and special services like nutritious meals and family counseling.”
Wyatthad a hand on her lower back, guiding her to the arts section, a grassy clearing of tents filled with a stunning range of artwork.Jewelry, paintings, photographs, most with a western flair.
Shestopped short in front of one tent, a large, framed photograph facing her.Apanoramic view ofBreckenridgeat night, it was taken in winter.Thesoft lights of the village in the foreground, snow-peaked mountains glistening beneath a full-moon sky. “Wow.”
ShefeltWyatt’sgaze on her. “Readyfor lunch?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Wyattled them to a vendor selling beer-battered chicken wings.
Theytook their meal to a spot on the grass across from the stage.Akeyboard struck a chord and everyone turned to look.Severalmusicians were setting up shop.
“Theyplay every year,”Wyattsaid, licking away a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Bestband in theRockies.”
“Betterthan theRedRockRebels?”
Hesmiled.
Theysat on the grass, listening for a bit.
“Peterbroke it off.”
Wyatt’shead shot up in an instant, his eyes wide, then looked away. “Oh. . . sorry.”
“Areyou?”
Wyattbrushed away a cowlick.Heshifted his gaze back to hers, his eyes intense and serious. “No, not really.”
Goosebumpslined her arms, heat filled her belly.
Helooked like he was about to ask more.
“WyattSomers, come on up!”
Manyeyes turned to him, includingLily’s.
“What’sgoing on?” she asked.
“I’llbe right back.”
Wyattwas on his feet, fist-bumping a few people nearby.Hewalked to the stage.
Lily’smouth dropped open as he climbed the stairs, taking hold of a guitar and approached the mic. “HappyFourth, everyone.Who’sready for someRebelstunes?”
Thecrowd went wild.Themusic started and along with everyone else,Lilywas on her feet, having the time of her life.
ChapterTwenty-Five
MayorCarterBillingsstood in the wings of the makeshift stage, listening to the band play.Thecrowd was going wild, singing their hearts out along withWyattSomers, who was pounding his guitar like aA-list rocker.
