He decided on a pair of jeans and one of his old dress shirts and headed back to Copper Mountain.

The town was packed, dusk falling like fairy dust, the place almost magical thanks to the twinkly lights that lit up the shadows. The decks of the local establishments were packed, heaters chugging out blasts of warm air into the night.

The old community center had flung open its doors, the music rolling outside. The Yankee Belles were rocking the house with a song that had everyone on their feet. Locals and tourists, all two-stepping and line dancing, packed the dance floor.

Oh, this would be a disaster.

Dodge pushed his way inside, spotted Malachi dancing with Shasta Starr, and Jude Remington with a cute redhead he didn’t know, and tried to find Echo.

No sign of her.

Dodge stood a moment, searching the crowd, the dance floor.

Huh. She had been acting strange today.

He was about to head toward his truck when he spotted Charlie and Effie. Effie had her hair down, behind her ears, and wore a flowing bohemian dress with cowboy boots. She was laughing at something Charlie said. He sat in a chair, holding court with a few locals, Ace Mulligan, and Ox Remington. Charlie held a glass of lemonade, clear-eyed.

Dodge walked over to them and got Effie’s attention, and she scooted out.

“Have you seen Echo?” he asked.

“She was at the house today when Charlie and I left,” Effie said. She gave him a strange smile.

Weird. Dodge got back in his truck and headed for the homestead. Down the darkened drive, lights lit up the house like a beacon. Granite came off the deck and ran out, barking at his truck.

Dodge got out and crouched, petting the dog. The other dogs rose from the beds inside their massive pen, then came to the fence to stick their noses through. Dodge stuck his fingers into the fencing and petted them. “Hey, guys. Where’s your mama?”

Echo hadn’t come out of the house, so he went to the arctic entry and let himself in. “Echo, are you here?”

No answer, so he went inside to the kitchen, then the great room. A quiet fire simmered in the hearth.

“Echo?”

He spotted her on the porch, overlooking the river, and went outside.

She wore a pretty black dress. That alone stopped him, and as she turned, her golden-blond hair down, her beautiful green eyes on his, he couldn’t move.

“Wow, you’re beautiful.”

She smiled then, something sweet, albeit sad in her expression.

“Hey,” he said, coming close and wrapping his arms around her. “What’s going on? I thought you said you were coming to the dance.”

She nodded, and then, weirdly, her eyes filled.

“Echo—?”

“I did it, Dodge. I . . . I forgave her.”

His mouth opened.

“My mom.”

“Yes, I figured—”

“It was George.”

“Huh?”