Maya places her hand over his, and they share a look. Their intimacy and display of affection once again stirs some foreign, painful string in my heart. But when Andy clears his throat, my attention is back on him.

“She’s…shy, not comfortable with crowds and fame. So my mom suggested she use a stage name. All her albums are recorded by my brother Ty at our home studio. My mom’s PA coordinates with the record labels and has signed an NDA. There’s no link between Dreamcatcher and the Brunos…in public.”

“You have gone to great lengths to hide her identity. Is it just because she’s shy, or are the Brunos worried how her association with you will be seen by the public?”

“We don’t give a damn about the paparazzi. Minnie prefers to live a more quiet and protected life, and we respect that.” Andy downs the champagne in one gulp. “Even talking to you right now feels like it’s an intrusion of her privacy. And the only reason I’m sharing this is because you don’t hide anything from doctors, lawyers, and security.”

I nod. Not only because I agree to his last statement but I also understand living a double life. I know, people can have different reasons to hide.

“Don’t worry, Andy,” I assure him. “She’ll be Minnie at your wedding, and since no one knows her by any other name, it shouldn’t be a problem for us to keep her identity under wraps.”

Andy nods in response. His tense shoulders have relaxed a little.

“Dreamcatcher?” I can’t help asking. “That’s a very…strange name.”

“Only until you hear her sing.” Maya smiles and hits a button on her phone.

The soulful voice of a singer fills the space.

Forget your nightmares,

Let me be your dreamcatcher…

* * *

Maddy’s staff arranges our dinner, grilled turkey and veggies, on the patio table. There’s music in the background, though now we have moved from Dreamcatcher to the Bruno Bros.

This whole evening is so…different. Maybe because of the girl sitting next to me. Every time she shifts, her skirt touches my leg. When she moves her hands animatedly, discussing something she’s planned for the wedding, her two bracelets jingle, making a small sound barely audible over the music. I swear I’ve never observed such things before in any woman, but with Autumn, I notice everything.

Even the way her chest rises and falls when she breathes.

They’re discussing the music for the ring bearer when Maya asks, “Is that your wedding ring?” Her eyes focus on the ring on Autumn’s hand before it skids to mine. “It’s a pair. Isn’t it?”

Autumn looks up at me, and I wonder if she remembers that moment, when next to my Harley, just at her inn’s entrance, I’d slid that ring on her finger.