What an asshole, Joy thought as she made her way to Old Town. She drifted from one shop to another, looking at crafts and jewelry, but nothing caught her interest. Did she really want to drive across country with Dylan when he was acting like such a jerk?

Ummm . . . no.

That was a no-brainer.

Didn’t he realize that she was doing him a favor? Why should she drive him if he couldn’t be polite, or treat her with respect? Hopefully he’d apologize soon; otherwise she’d drive him no farther than Amarillo, their next stop. She didn’t want to spend time with someone who treated her rudely.

Joy meandered through a store filled with local arts and handcrafted jewelry. She treated herself to a reasonably priced silver and turquoise bangle, something Judy would have passed over. Perfect, though, for Joy. And it felt good to wear it. She loved the shine, and the single stone had a unique design she knew she’d never tire looking at.

After lunch at a patio café, Joy leisurely walked through the plaza before heading back to the hotel. Music and a lone singer’s voice reached her and her ears pricked at the sound. It was Dylan, his voice immediately recognizable to her. He sang an acoustical version of the nineties punk band Face to Face’s “Disconnected.” He’d sung it the other night at the Blue Room, but it sounded different out here in the open. Sad, almost devastatingly so.

She spun around, looking for him.

Where was he? There must be an outdoor restaurant or bar nearby. She quickly crossed the plaza and stopped short across the street from the church.

Dylan stood on the corner with his guitar. A few people loitered around him, but for the most part he appeared disconnected from them or anything around him. Face down, expression tight, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, and cap pulled low over his brow, Dylan sang.

Joy glanced around. This couldn’t be his gig. What was he doing?

Performing in public, and absolutely hating it, judging by his demeanor.

Why?

Joy’s heart went out to him. Was this why he’d been in a foul mood earlier? Was there a reason he had to do this? He obviously wasn’t acting like he had a choice about playing his guitar on a corner.

Joy immediately regretted her harsh thoughts about him earlier. Whatever had been eating at him had nothing to do with her. How selfish of her to think so.

She settled onto a park bench with her back to him, hoping he wouldn’t notice her. Her presence would surely embarrass him, and she should leave. But curiosity won over, and the sheer pleasure of hearing him sing kept her rooted to her spot.