“On the other hand, if you want to share any juicy tidbits about how that man uses his saxophone . . .” Stacia walked backward down the hill, her sequins glittering in the light of the rising sun. “Then call me immediately.”

•   •   •

LJ’s rocking chair creaked lazily, Andra’s squeaking a faster rhythm next to him. The last rays of the day’s sun baked the browning grass in her front yard, bees humming along over the tops of the scattered wildflowers.

“So . . .” She peeked over at him with a tiny smile, the cute one she used when she was about to give him hell. “Is this it?”

“It?” He worked up an imperious glare. “What else could you possibly need than a pretty afternoon and a porch to enjoy it from?”

She tucked her hands under her legs, pushing off the floorboards with one toe to keep herself rocking. “No, it’s nice, the whole porch-sitting thing. I haven’t done much of it even though I bought the chairs. I just wasn’t sure if maybe there was more to it.”

He wasn’t about to admit it, but he didn’t feel as content on the porch up here as he did at home. The view was incredible, steeply pitched hills with the velvety texture of closely packed trees leading up to distant mountains. Horses grazed in Andra’s paddock like a painting of the life he’d been dreaming for himself since he got his first cowboy hat from the dollar store.

But the contentment of it was ruined by the knowledge that he was exposed to the whole horizon line, so all Bill had to do was walk up over the hill, and LJ would lose his job, his future, and any chance he had at being close to Andra. His chest was as tight as an overwound clock. The way she’d looked at him since last night . . . if he had to leave the ranch, would she try to see him again? It was the kind of thing he knew better than to hope for. It seemed like when you reached that high, life always found a way to slap you back down.

He coughed into his fist, hoping it would make his voice sound more normal. “Well, it helps when there are neighbors around on their porches to visit with or a little music to play.” His phone beeped and he jumped, coming to his feet as he dug it out of his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Andra asked, her hand freezing halfway to her glass of lemonade.

He barely heard her over the pounding of his heart. The text was from his friend Ty, but it was only asking for his help with some building-permit paperwork. Nothing about Mama. He picked up his glass and swallowed half of it down without even tasting the sweet burn of the citrus he’d spent half an hour perfecting.