Wishing for things was dangerous for Wyatt. He knew that. He couldn’t spend his entire life railing at fate because he’d been born deaf. He couldn’t let his heart be crowded with negative emotions simply because he’d been dealt a rotten hand of cards. Until tonight, he’d been pretty happy with the way things were. He’d learned to be thankful for his hearing loss. He’d stopped chasing after false hopes that the latest breakthroughs in ear surgery would cure his deafness. He’d also learned to count all the ways that his disability had made him a better person. More caring and compassionate. More thoughtful. More focused on what really mattered. And at the top of the list, more grateful for all his blessings: his parents and their gift to him of unflagging support; Kennedy, who’d stepped beyond merely being his brother to being his friend; Slade, who’d given him a job and then promoted him to the highest-paid position on the ranch. His life had been filled with gifts, beautiful gifts, and now he found himself wanting more. What did that make him? An ungrateful shithead? His future had been written in stone when he’d still been in his mother’s womb. His auditory nerves had been affected by congenital rubella syndrome, and to date, nothing much could be done to correct that. Maybe someday scientists would be able to grow new auditory nerves for people in test tubes and implant them, but Wyatt wasn’t going to hold his breath. He had to be content right where he was. It was the only way he could be happy and remain balanced.

He fished in his front pocket for his change. All of it. He’d stopped here with some foolish notion of tossing coins and wishing for things he could never have. But he wouldn’t follow through on that impulse. Erin was a beautiful woman, both inside and out, but he didn’t need or want her in his life. Some people went into relationships with a lot of heavy baggage, but he would go into a relationship with the propensity to do harm. He had allowed that propensity to manifest itself into a harsh experience for one woman. He couldn’t let that happen again.

So he wouldn’t wish for things he couldn’t and shouldn’t have. Instead he would throw all his change into the water at once and wish that he could return to being satisfied with his life the way it was.

* * *

The following afternoon, Julie closed her shop and locked the front door at five o’clock. Normally she had cleaning and shelf restocking to do after she counted out her register, but business had been slow that day, allowing her time to do all the after-closing chores between customers. As she strolled through the Mystic Creek Menagerie, an ancient, round building that had once been home to a sawmill, she waved hello to Tony Chavez, who owned and operated Dizzy’s Roundtable, a restaurant that featured a round, revolving platform for unique formal dining. Luckily for Julie, Tony was open for only lunch and dinner, which enabled her to compete with him for customers. His prices were higher, and the food he offered was fancier. Julie had found her own niche with her talents as a barista and baker.