Chapter Seven
Seven
One week later, on a Sunday—the only day the bar was closed—Aubrey found herself gazing out the passenger window while Willow drove, watching the rugged terrain roll by.
The winding road stretched before them, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through the snow-dusted Montana landscape.
The vastness of it all still took her breath away, so different from the crowded cityscape she’d left behind in Atlanta, and that she missed with an ache that just wouldn’t quit.
“Earth to Aubrey.” Willow’s voice cut through her thoughts. “You’ve been awful quiet this morning. You okay?”
Aubrey turned, forcing a smile. “Just taking in the view. It’s beautiful out here, in its own way.”
Willow raised an eyebrow before focusing back on the road. “But?”
“But nothing,” Aubrey said quickly.
Too quickly.
She sighed, relenting under Willow’s knowing look. “It’s just…sometimes I still feel like a fish out of water, you know? Like I don’t quite belong the way you and Charly have settled in here so easily.”
Willow reached over and squeezed her hand. “You belong with us, Aubs. Just give it a little more time.”
Warmth bloomed in Aubrey’s chest. This was why she’d traded skyscrapers for mountains.
The lifelong bonds she’d formed with Charly and Willow weren’t anything she was willing to trade.
Even when she’d moved to Atlanta, the end goal was always to get enough experience and then end up together.
Aubrey just never expected that to be in a place like Timber Falls.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “Besides, I don’t know what I’d do without you and Charly.”
“Probably be bored out of your mind,” Willow quipped, a grin playing on her lips. “Speaking of which, you ready to try a little canter today on our ride? Eli said you’re totally ready to go a little faster.”
Aubrey groaned playfully. “God help me. Remember last time? I think he forgets I can barely trot.”
They dissolved into laughter, recalling Aubrey’s last riding lesson with Eli, where she’d trotted just fine but couldn’t seem to stop. He had way more confidence in her riding ability than she did, but at least she wasn’t falling off.
The ranch soon came into view, a sprawling expanse of weathered wood and open pastures. Even from a distance, Aubrey could make out the flurry of activity—their friends milling about, cowboys leading horses from the stables.
Willow pulled up to the main house, barely putting the car in Park before Aubrey was out the door. The brisk wind nipped at her cheeks as she strode toward the group, drinking in the familiar faces and welcoming smiles.
“There you are!” Eli called out, waving enthusiastically. “We were starting to think you’d both chickened out—bunch of city girls.”
Aubrey rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the grin off her face.
Willow called, “In your dreams. We’re tough cookies and can handle the cold.”
Aubrey slipped her hands into her mitts, not totally sure about that. The day was sunny, but bitterly cold.
A chorus of good-natured jeers and laughter erupted from the group. Aubrey felt herself relax, slipping easily into the warm embrace of friendship. This was her family now, chosen and cherished, and she told herself again that she just had to get used to it.
She would get used to it.
As the cowboys began leading out the horses from the barn for their ride today, with Charly in tow, the crunch of gravel under tires drew Aubrey’s attention.
A sleek black pickup rolled to a stop, and her breath caught as Gunner stepped out, his cowboy hat tipped low over those piercing eyes.
But he wasn’t alone. Emily and her mother emerged from the truck next.
Aubrey’s stomach twisted as she watched Gunner help Sarah down. “Well, isn’t that cozy,” she muttered under her breath, unable to quell the flicker of jealousy that ignited in her chest.
“Did you say something?” Charly asked, appearing at her side.
Aubrey shook her head, forcing a smile. “Just talking to myself.”
As Willow chatted with Charly, Aubrey couldn’t tear her eyes away from Gunner. He was laughing at something Sarah said, looking more relaxed than Aubrey had ever seen him. Ugh. She turned away. She really had to stop looking his way.
“You okay?” Willow asked…again.
Aubrey blinked, realizing she needed to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Great,” Willow said, a knowing smirk on her face. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”
Before Aubrey could protest, they were walking toward the newcomers. Gunner’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was a flash of something in his gaze—tenderness, maybe even longing—before he quickly looked away.
“Gunner,” Aubrey said, proud of how steady her voice sounded.
Gunner tipped his hat, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Darlin’.”
The endearment, casual as it was, sent a shiver down Aubrey’s spine. She turned to Emily and Sarah, determined to ignore the effect Gunner had on her. “Hi, we didn’t officially meet the other day. I’m Aubrey.”
As introductions were made, Aubrey couldn’t help but steal glances at Gunner. What was his relationship with Sarah? And why did she care so much?
The sound of hooves on packed snow pulled Aubrey from her thoughts. It was time to mount up. As she approached the horse she rode every week, a beautiful chestnut mare named Jester, she paused, taking in the breathtaking landscape before her.
The ranch stretched out in a winter wonderland, snow-capped mountains framing the horizon. Pristine white fields glittered in the sunlight, broken only by the dark silhouettes of pine trees. It was a far cry from the bustling streets of Atlanta, and yet…
“It’s something else, isn’t it?” Gunner’s voice was low, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath.
Aubrey nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She might not love everything small-town living had to offer, but the majestic views were something else.
But then Emily called out to Gunner, breaking the spell. Aubrey turned back to the horse that Decker was holding still for her and pushed away the conflicting emotions swirling within her. She had a ride to focus on, after all. “Thanks,” she told Decker.
He tipped his hat. “Enjoy the ride, ma’am.”
As she swung into the saddle, Aubrey zipped up her coat all the way, bringing her scarf up over her face to keep her warm.
Soon, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on the snow-dusted trail filled the air as the group set off, their breaths puffing out in small clouds in the wintery air. Aubrey found herself relaxing into the gentle sway of Jester’s gait, the tension in her shoulders easing with each step.
“So, Aubrey,” Willow called out from a few paces ahead, “ready to admit that country life isn’t so bad after all?”
Aubrey rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Don’t push it. I still miss decent sushi.”
Laughter rippled through the group, and Aubrey felt a warmth bloom in her chest that had nothing to do with the exertion of riding. For a moment, her worries about the bar, her past in Atlanta and even the confusing presence of Gunner faded into the background.
“We’ve got fish in the lake,” Eli chimed in, atop his black horse. “Slap it on some rice, and voilà! Montana sushi!”
“I’d pay good money to see you try that,” Aubrey shot back, her competitive streak flaring.
As the banter continued, Emily’s mother, Sarah, guided her horse alongside Jester. “Don’t beat yourself up about it too much,” she said with a warm smile. “I remember when I first moved here as a teen. Quite the culture shock.”
Aubrey nodded. “It’s…different. But not in a bad way, I guess.”
Sarah’s gaze drifted to where Gunner was riding ahead, deep in conversation with Emily. “Speaking of different,” she mused, “it’s wild seeing Gunner back in town. Did you know he was quite the rebel back in high school?”
“Oh?” she asked, aiming for nonchalance but knowing she’d missed the mark.
“Oh yeah,” Sarah continued. “He was a couple years behind me, but everyone knew Gunner Woods. Everyone knew he was bigger than this town.”
As Sarah spoke, Aubrey found herself studying Gunner, on his horse next to Emily’s gray pony, and trying to reconcile the man she’d met in Atlanta with this small-town rebel who was brave enough to chase his dreams and catch them.
“I guess it wasn’t a huge surprise when he hit it big,” Sarah added. “Some people are just destined for the spotlight, you know?”
Aubrey hummed noncommittally, her mind whirling. She’d known Gunner was famous, of course, but hearing about his roots stirred something in her. A curiosity, perhaps. Or something deeper she wasn’t quite ready to name.
Sarah leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if I were even remotely interested in men, Gunner would be at the top of my list. That voice, those eyes…” She fanned herself dramatically, then burst into laughter. “But I’ll leave that to someone else. My wife would have my head!”
Aubrey chuckled, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. Sarah’s easy humor was infectious, chipping away at the walls Aubrey had carefully constructed around herself. And now she knew Sarah and Gunner weren’t a thing at all, and that brought more relief than she thought necessary.
“Speaking of,” Sarah continued, her tone softening, “it’s good to see him looking more like himself these days. When he first came back to town…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
Aubrey’s grip on her reins tightened. “What do you mean?”
Sarah’s gaze turned distant, as if looking back through time. “Oh, honey. Everyone could tell he was a shell of himself. Exhausted, lost…like he’d left pieces of himself scattered across every stage in America. It broke my heart to see the guy I remembered looking so…hollow.”
A lump formed in Aubrey’s throat. She swallowed hard, her mind conjuring tormented images of Gunner, not the charming musician she’d met in Atlanta, but a man worn down by the weight of fame and expectations.