Chapter 18
Colt, Jenna, and Willow held out their flashlights to illuminate the trail that led from the Meadow Valley guest ranch out to the property’s bonfire site where this morning—because technically 2:00 a.m. was morning, even if no one had actually slept yet—Colt was on duty with the ranch patrons who trailed behind them, all with flashlights of their own.
“I still can’t believe this is your job,” Willow told her brother as she glanced in his direction. His free hand was clasped in Jenna’s, and she smiled wistfully at her brother for this life he’d created for himself. “You get to spend every waking moment doing exactly what you love,” she added.
Colt smiled at his sister and then planted a kiss on top of his wife’s head as they continued toward their destination. “Isn’t it the same for you?” he asked.
Willow paused to think, which didn’t feel like the right response. Shouldn’t she have immediately replied with “Yes!” or “Of course!” Instead she found herself taking mental stock of the career she’d built over the past five years, the weight of the guitar case in her free hand.
“Wills?” Colt asked when she’d seemingly gotten lost in her head.
“How y’all doing?” Jenna called over her shoulder, letting go of Colt’s hand and dropping back toward the trail of guests several feet behind them.
“She’s not subtle, is she?” Willow asked with a laugh as her brother closed the gap between them so they were now walking side by side.
Colt laughed too. “Not even a little. Just one of the many, many , MANY things I love about her.”
“I get it. You’re in love, and your life is perfect, and the rest of us are all just here to cheer you on from the sidelines.” Willow let out a breath “Sorry. That was a bit of an extreme reaction to you simply acknowledging that Jenna is amazing, which she is.”
“She is,” Colt agreed. “But our life isn’t perfect, Wills. We have our good days and not-so-good days just like everyone else. Before you got here, we had a three-day stint of giving each other the silent treatment and me sleeping on the couch.”
Willow’s mouth fell open. “What? Why? What were you two fighting about?”
Her brother shrugged. Like…actually shrugged . “Whatever it was doesn’t seem so important now.”
“You forgot to clean the coop when I was gone all day picking up Biscuit with Delaney, drank too much at the bonfire, and then I had to do it at midnight after I got home!” Jenna called up to them.
Willow snorted. “Seems like it was a little important,” she told him. “Also, who’s Biscuit?”
“A hedgehog Delaney took in at the animal rescue.” Colt sighed. “Love you, Babe!” He called back to Jenna.
“Love you too!” she singsonged in response.
Colt cleared his throat. “The point is, we’re not perfect. I’m not perfect. We just tend to keep the not-so-good days behind closed doors. On the couch. Until she misses me enough to forgive me. I guess living life behind closed doors is a luxury you don’t always have these days, huh?”
Willow shook her head. “I mean, I’ve been really good at keeping a low profile since…you know. But it’s not that…” She let her voice trail off, thinking again. “When I first started this, like, before I got signed, I was making music on my own timeline, on my own terms.” She laughed. “’Course, I wasn’t getting paid a living wage, but the band and I almost always broke even after we had a gig and moved on to the next one. It was hard and simple at the same time. Does that make sense?”
Her brother glanced her way and nodded, then turned back to the trail. “Sorry, Wills,” he told her, pushing through a small thicket of bushes. “Can we pick the chat up again once we get everyone situated?”
“I’m fine,” she told him, which was mostly the truth. Nothing was actually wrong . She simply felt off .
They broke into a clearing containing a few picnic tables and a bonfire circle framed by thick logs that Willow assumed doubled as benches when everyone huddled around the fire. Tonight, however, there would be no fire other than in the sky.
“Welcome, everyone. Grab as comfortable a spot as you can find.” Colt called out to the fifteen or so guests who signed up for the late-night pilgrimage to catch a meteor shower where there promised to be zero light pollution getting in the way of their view.
The men, women, and even a few school-aged kids spread out on the logs and at the picnic tables, one by one powering down their flashlights.
Colt shook out a big flannel blanket for Jenna, Willow, and himself, and Willow couldn’t stop herself from smiling. It had only been a day since she and Ash had returned from the campsite, yet little things kept triggering memories of a day and night that still didn’t feel real.
“You know what?” she told her brother and sister-in-law. “I think I’m going to grab a spot on that log over there.” She nodded toward the bonfire circle and a still-unoccupied tree log that served as a bench. “I feel like this is something you two should do alone.”
Jenna thrust her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. “Darlin’, we get plenty of time with just the two of us. Tonight is for family.” She held her arms out to include all the ranch guests who were apparently extended family for the night. “And I will not have family lying around on a fallen tree all by herself watching the sky produce the kind of magic that’s meant to be shared.”
Willow’s cheeks warmed, and she was grateful for the dark.
Colt leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “She’s pretty smart. I’d listen to her.”
Willow sighed. “Okay, but the second I feel like a third wheel, I’m taking up residence on the first empty log I find.” She winced. “I didn’t hear how that sounded until it came out of my mouth, and I’d like to strike ‘take up residence on a log’ from the record for the rest of time.”
Jenna dropped down onto one side of the blanket and patted the spot beside her. “Not a chance, honey. Now park your log-loving ass next to your sister so we can catch some shooting stars.”
Willow did as she was told, and after Colt took a survey of the small clearing to make sure the guests were situated and ready for the event, he stretched out on his sister’s other side.
“What if we don’t see anything,” Willow whispered.
Jenna nudged her with her shoulder and pointed up toward the sky. “Open your eyes and look,” she whispered.
Willow stared up at the vastness above, at the pinprick speckle of the 100 billion stars in the galaxy, beautiful and ordinary all at the same time.
“If you keep waiting for the good part,” Jenna continued, “you’ll miss what’s right in front of you, which is pretty great too.”
Willow sighed. Was that what she’d been doing for the better part of her adult life, still waiting around for it to start?
Colt threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed. “See?” he told her. “ Smart .”
“Yeah, yeah,” Willow admitted. “I guess what’s going on up there is pretty damned spectacular all on its—” She gasped, and seeing as she wasn’t alone with countless others doing the same, she already knew the answer to her question. “Did you see that?”
Jenna grabbed Willow’s other hand and held tight as the late night/early morning sky went from pretty damned spectacular to complete and utter magic in seconds flat as streaks of light rained across the sky.
Willow had missed years with her brother. She’d experienced so many firsts without him. First days of middle and later high school. First time she sang for an audience. First crush and later her first heartbreak. So many took family for granted, assuming the ones they loved would always be there simply because that was how it had always been. But Willow knew better, and because of that, she knew how special this moment was, even if all she was doing was lying on the ground staring up at the sky.
“I’ve never seen one before,” she told Jenna and Colt.
Jenna responded by tilting her head to lean it on Willow’s shoulder.
Colt cleared his throat and replied, “It’s a first for me too, Wills.”
Willow’s throat tightened, and everything inside her seemed to bloom. Maybe this was it. Maybe every little moment like this was the good part amid the beautiful, the sometimes not so beautiful, and the ordinary. She just had to open her eyes and look.
The meteor shower culminated in a predawn bonfire and sing-along, the song list consisting of a little John Denver, a little Neil Diamond, and even a few Willow Morgan originals. When Willow returned home to find the guesthouse still empty, she strode straight into the bathroom, tore another sticky note from the pad someone had left on the counter, and next to the one that simply said, I’m all in , she added a second.
I am too.
Willow could wait for the other shoe to drop, for some sign that this—whatever she and Ash were doing—was right , or she could open her eyes and look at what was right in front of her. Or what would be right in front of her in the next day or two when Ash returned.
She crawled into bed just as the sun began to peek above the horizon, exhaustion covering her like a weighted blanket so that despite the light creeping in through the shades, she sank into the mattress and, soon after, the oblivion of sleep.
She woke to the windows still framed in dim light and to solid arms clasped around her torso, her back pressed against a strong, solid chest.
Willow sucked in a sharp breath.
“I hid all the vases,” Ash said groggily. “Just in case.”
She spun to face him, taking in the sight she never imagined she’d be so happy to see.
“Your hair is wet,” she whispered, reaching to trace a line from his forehead to his cheek. And he was doing that no-shirt thing again that made it hard for her to think.
“Showered,” he replied, his closed eyes fluttering open. “Figured if that didn’t wake you that I was fairly safe from ceramic harm.”
Willow winced. “Thank you for your note,” she told him. “I’m sorry I let you leave without saying goodbye.” He was so close that she saw his blue eyes crinkle at the corners before lowering her gaze to confirm that he was smiling.
“You were spooked,” he replied, and she nodded.
“Still am. It’s going to take some time.”
He pulled her to him so that she had no choice but to hook her leg over his hip so she didn’t knee him in the groin.
“Thanks for your note too,” he continued, tracing lazy circles on the small of her back. “But are you sure?” he asked. “Because if it’s too fast, the couch isn’t that bad,” he teased. “I just might have to take you with me.”
It was fast. And being this close to him, feeling him already hard against her, made her want to ignore every rational thought from now until eternity if it meant even an eighth of the pleasure she’d felt the other night. But Willow couldn’t let her libido make the decisions when her heart and both their careers were on the line.
She slowly lowered her leg and placed her knee carefully between his.
“I’m all in, Ash…for the song, first. We have to finish what we started professionally before we officially make it personal again.”
His finger stopped mid-circle on her back, and Willow swore she heard the sound of a record scratch.
“Oh,” he replied, all playfulness vanishing in one simple syllable.
“I almost lost everything before my career even started,” she continued. “And right now, I feel like I’m on a ship that could just as easily hit an iceberg as it could make it safely to port. If I want the freedom—and income—to make music on my terms, I have to give the label what they want for this album.”
Ash swallowed, and she watched a muscle in his jaw tick. “So…” he began with a soft laugh. “I guess while I was out of my mind missing you for two days, you were here drumming up a metaphor that makes you the Titanic…and me the iceberg.” There was no menace in his words, only simple resignation. “Guess that sounds about right.”
Willow shook her head and then cupped his face in her hands. “ We’re the ship,” she explained. “And we just need to steer it in the right direction. But that means one destination at a time.” She stroked her thumbs over his cheeks.
He nodded. “I get it,” he admitted. “Your career is important to me too.”
She furrowed her brows. “And your career. They’re both important.”
“Sure,” Ash replied absently. Then he slid his hands up her back, to her shoulders, and down her arms until he was gently clasping her wrists. “I should let you get your sleep. Heard it was a late night.”
“Wait!” she cried. “This is just a pause, Ash. You know that, right?”
He nodded and gave her a weary smile. “I know,” he replied softly.
Without another thought, she kissed him, a soft brush of her lips against his, and Ash let out a shaky breath.
“Let’s steer the ship, okay?” he whispered, then lowered her hands as he climbed out of the bed. “It’s a little past noon,” he added. “I’m going to head over to the clinic to check in with Eli and see how the dapples are doing. When you’re officially up and ready, why don’t you pop out to the barn and meet the new residents? Then we can get to work.”
Willow sat up in bed and pulled her knees to her chest. “You’re really okay with all of this?”
He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. His bare chest that—pause or no pause—made Willow’s mouth water. “I’m okay with whatever you need to be sure I’m not going to mess up this time.” He nodded toward her with a soft smile. “Go back to bed, Wills. There’s no rush, okay?”
He pivoted away from her and out into the main area of the house, pulling the door closed behind him.
Willow closed her eyes and counted to ten, letting out a long, steady breath as she reminded herself that despite the ticking clock, he was right. They could take their time and do everything right this go-around.