“I don’t use the ball. I use cards and your palm, and I’ll tell you whatever it says,” Liz said.

“You really believe all that bull crap?” Becca asked.

“Do you read your horoscope every day?” Liz asked right back.

Becca readjusted her position and claimed a bar stool. “Yep, and it comes true about fifty percent of the time.”

A man dressed like a pirate bellied up to the bar. “Hey, Raylen, are you going to introduce me to your lady?”

Raylen made introductions. “Liz, this is Dalton Riley. He’s Ace’s younger brother. And Dalton, this is my new neighbor, Liz.”

Dalton got to his feet and bowed over Liz’s hand. He brought it to his lips and gently kissed her fingertips. “May I have the next dance, Miz Liz?”

“Of course you can,” Liz said. “But right now, Raylen and I are headed to the food table.”

“I’ll hold you to that dance,” Dalton said.

Becca reached out and touched Raylen on the arm. “Be a sweetheart and get me a plate of nachos. Libby can sit here beside me, and we’ll talk about the stars.”

Raylen tilted his head and looked at Liz. “Her name is Liz, not Libby. You’ll have to get your own nachos. Liz is supposed to start telling fortunes in fifteen minutes, so we’re going to eat right now.”

Becca pouted. “You ain’t no fun and not even a good friend tonight, Raylen.”

Raylen ignored her and steered Liz toward the long food table with a hand on the small of her back. Her body hummed with the excitement of his touch, and she wondered if she’d be able to read the cards or even see a lifeline on a palm.

All the strange people, the party atmosphere, the decorations, and the night air reminded her of opening night at the carnival: new faces eager to win a stuffed animal, little children clamoring to ride the ponies or the Ferris wheel, the smell of funnel cakes and cotton candy, the hawkers drawing in the crowds, and Liz dancing to bring in people to the fortune telling wagon.

She missed it all.

Liz wasn’t a spectator. She was a player. She liked to dance. She liked to be in the midst of the carnival. She liked to tell fortunes and watch the people and children. What in the hell ever made her think that she could settle down and never roam again?

Raylen pulled out a chair for her and sat close enough that he could drape his arm over her shoulders. Liz looked out across the people laughing, talking, milling about from one group to the other. The energy wasn’t as electric as opening night at the carnival, but it was there, and it fed the atmosphere.

“Would you go steal a candle from one of those tables, Raylen? And ask Jasmine if I can have one of her smoky cauldrons, and then I want a handful of dirt in one of those orange paper plates,” she said.