After the nightmares Francesca and I had abandoned inDC, this place felt too close to utopia to turn our backs on.
Still, I wasn’t an idiot. I had our go-bags packed. Ihad enough cash to last us a while. And Frankie and I had a plan to get out oftown at a second’s notice. If another package showed up, we were gone. Wewouldn’t even open it first.
Feeling on edge, I scanned the people eating, drinkingbeer and watching the band on stage. The lead singer had paused their set totake requests. Currently they were singingPianoManby Billy Joel, which was only slightly awkward since they didn’t have apiano. But it was always a crowd favorite, and this crowd seemed to especiallylove it.
“You promised to take me to the horses,” Julietreminded me. “You said Jesse would let me ride the big ones this time.”
I had said that. But I hadn’t really meant it.
Jesse and I had met at one of street carnivals Friscothrew every couple months. He had been there representing the ranch, in chargeof the ponies for the kids to ride. Juliet had been terrified at first. Whichwas fine with me. I was in no hurry to help her conquer that particular fear.
But then Jesse had come along and somehow appealed tothe courageous, brave, independent little girl inside her. He’d coaxed her ontoone of his gentle ponies and then given her three rides in a row—effectivelypissing off all the other moms and kids and every tourist in Summit County.
Afterward, he’d invited us out to his ranch so Julietcould keep riding. He had claimed that he didn’t want her to regress. She livedin Colorado. It was wholly unacceptable to be afraid of horses.
I knew he’d been flirting with me. But I also knew hisreputation around town. I also knew my indomitable will.
I just hadn’t been anticipating how charming Jessewould be. Or how much I would genuinely like and respect the guy. Ourfriendship had developed naturally.
And so had his relationship withJuliet.
Which usually I appreciated. Just not right now. Notwhen I was trying to get us the hell out of dodge and she was reminding me howstupidly and sentimentally attached to this place I’d gotten.
“You’re too little for the big ones,” I argued.
Her expression turned stubborn in all of one second.Her button nose wrinkled and her chin jutted out. “Jesse said I’m just bigenough.”
“Jesse is not your mother. He doesn’t get to tell youwhat to do. That’s my job.”
“But he can sweet talk your mama into seeing it hisway.”
Juliet and I swiveled at the same time. Jesse wasstanding directly behind us, his hands resting on our chairs. “Jesse!” Julietsqueaked in elation at the same time I hissed, “Holy shit!”
Jesse’s brows furrowed at my curse word in front of mydaughter. I wasn’t a perfect mom, but I did try to keep colorful language at aminimum when she was around. When I was her age, I could cuss with the best ofthem. I was trying to save her from that childhood—the one that lackedinnocence and naivety and wholesomeness.
“You scared me,” I told him by way of an explanation.
He grinned back. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Isaw you two sitting over here and came to say hi, but then you were talkingabout me. So…”
I raised an eyebrow. “You eavesdropped for a while?”
His smile turned guilty. “Just a little bit.”
This man! Unbelievable. “Your penance is to explain tothis darling little girl that she is too small for the big horses.”
“Wh-what?” His big man handsdropped helplessly to his side and he looked totally crushed. “But she’s not—”
“Jesse Hasting…” I warned.
Before he could turn his puppy dog eyes into weaponsof mass destruction, the singer started another request. Juliet started jumpingup and down and squealing, “Mommy! Mommy! It’s your song!”
Jesse lifted his head and stared at the musician,listening while the beginning bars of “Sweet Caroline” came to life over thespeakers.
His low laughter was sincere when he looked back atme. “Sweet Caroline.”
The audience echoed a boisterous, “Ba,ba,baaaa!”
I smiled and it felt surprisingly nostalgic. “Yep. Iwas named after a Neil Diamond song.”
