“Because of your dad.”
She stared at River, her eyes wide.
“FromPop Musemagazine. You did that interview a year or so ago. Talked about your mom’s death, and your dad—”
“Okay. Yes. I didn’t realize they were going to print all of that. But ... okay, yes. Having a cop for a dad can be ... well, let’s just say you never want to bring anyone home.” She grinned at River and winked.
Just like she would have done for Jimmy Fallon.
River bought it. “Yeah, I see that. I’m sorry about your mom, though.”
Oh. The words sideswiped her, and she looked away. Breathe.Breathe.Fallon, think Fallon. Showbiz.
She found herself and a smile. “She was my biggest fan. I’m sure she’s still cheering for me in heaven.” Then Keely leaned back on her hands. “But no cop for me. Besides, I don’t have room in my life for romance.”
River frowned. “What? But your songs are so romantic.”
Keely lifted a shoulder. “Romance is ... a distraction.”
“Not true love. It’s the reason. Everything else is second.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“As true love?” River was spinning her ring. “I think so.”
Outside, a light flickered on around the barn, lighting up the snow. The blizzard shone in the glow, like stars in hyperspace, the sense of it almost magical. A postcard snapshot of a winter wonderland.
What was she doing here?
“I think we make choices,” Keely said, reaching for the pillow. “And we live with them. Sometimes it turns out, sometimes it doesn’t.” She sighed, even as River’s mouth opened. “I know thatdoesn’t sound very romantic, and don’t tell anyone else, but not everyone is meant to find ‘The One’ and live happily ever after.” She’d finger quoted The One.
Weirdly, her words sat in her chest, burned.
River sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it is about choices. But...” She looked up. “But I believe that love, and a happy ending, is also a choice. And I think you do too.”
Keely frowned.
“‘We stood on the edge, where the shadows meet the light, promised each other to fight the good fight. Through storms and silence, through wrong and right, we’ll hold our ground, keep our dreams in sight.’” River cocked her head, crossed her arms.
“Fine. You got me.” Keely didn’t have the heart to tell her that she didn’t write that song.
That she hadn’t wanted it on her album.
But Goldie told her it would win hearts, sell millions, and every time she got up to sing it, she put on her showbiz face. And for two minutes and thirty-seven seconds, tried to believe it.
In truth, she hadn’t written her own songs in a couple years.
Four years, two months and six days, to be exact. Maybe she didn’t have any more authentic heart songs in her.
River got up. “I’m glad you’re here. And I promise, I’ll keep our secret.” She headed for the door. “But, if you’re interested, that hot cop that practically carried you here is sort of a big deal. My husband recognized him from our local paper. He brought down a drug dealer and human trafficker in Anchorage a few months ago. Got shot in the process too. So I know you’re leaving in a few days, but not every cop is like your dad.”
The kind that would break your heart? Yeah, no. She wasn’t taking any chances.
“Good night, River. And thanks again.”
“Stay warm. If you need anything, Griffin is on night watch.” She paused at the door. “And your cop is next door.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not my cop.”
