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I still did the same thing. My jaw had literally dropped the first time I met one of the country music legends I looked up to. That was a few years ago, and I still remembered the way Ville had snickered behind me.

We were sitting a little separate from the guests, so we could have a conversation as a group without being overheard.

“So, Wren,” Carter said, putting his coffee mug down. “Ville mentioned that you know Milton Wilkins?”

I nodded and wiped my mouth with my napkin. “Yeah, he’s a friend. I used his recording studio for the last album.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Carter smiled slightly. “This is all very convoluted, but his wife’s brother used to work at my company.”

I chuckled. “So you’re almost a celebrity yourself?”

Hawk guffawed and even Bodhi grinned.

“No, I’m just saying that the world is very small.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that clearly made Hawk swoon a little.

“I have some ideas about my property. I’m gonna pick your brain while we ride back to the ranch about something. But Milton and his family might come over at some point. His kids are excited about the animals, even though they have some of their own in Nashville.”

Hawk laughed. “Yeah, but these aren’t their animals. There’s a difference.”

Bodhi nodded, smiling. “Oh yeah. As a kid, it’s always more exciting when it’s animals you don't have to shovel shit for.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw one of the riders, a tall young woman with a long black braid hanging over her shoulder, get up from her seat. She seemed to steel herself in the way that was ever familiar to me.

As I’d suspected, she hesitantly approached our table. “Uh, Mr. Paxton?”

“Yes?” I asked, smiling at her in a friendly way. I hated it when people were nervous to approach me in a casual setting like this.

“I was wondering, uh… could I maybe talk to you for a moment? It’s… personal to me.” Her gaze flitted from the men around our table back over her shoulder to her friend group.

“Of course. Let’s go on the porch.” I got up and gestured for her to go ahead.

I could tell Bodhi wasn’t liking this, but I wasn’t worried. She wasn’t going to do anything weird. I could tell she had something to say and I rarely got to interact with people like this.

Once we were on the porch, she walked to the other end, away from the doors. The kitchen window was cracked open nearby, and I could hear Nick humming as he worked on something.

“What’s your name?” I asked, and she blushed as she turned around.

“Uh, Leticia, but everyone calls me Letty.” Her gaze snapped to the window.

“Nick won’t care. He sticks to himself, mostly.” I didn’t know the man that well, but I’d dealt with enough private chefs that I knew they kept their heads down and never saw or heard anything whatsoever.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath as she leaned against the railing and then let it out. “I just…. You saved my life.”

Ah. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard a similar sentiment from a fan. Every time it made me feel sad, and joyous, and oddly, like a fraud.

I propped my hip on the post nearby and nodded. “How did that come to be?”

She took another breath, then smiled tremulously. “I was in an abusive relationship. It got really bad.” She pulled her long sleeve back and I saw scars that looked like maybe she’d… been restrained? Jesus.

“I’m sorry.”

“Then you released Dislocated Heart and something about it….” She shook her head and wiped a tear that rolled down her cheek. “I know it’s not a song about… that. But….”

“Hey, everyone relates to song lyrics and poetry in different ways. That’s the beauty of it. We all hear different things.” She looked so sad I wanted to hug her, but that was crossing a line I wouldn’t.

“It was—” She paused to find a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose, then balled it up. “Gods. Sorry. Anyway, I realized that the lines ‘every time you walk into the room my heart dislocates, and every time I leave again it slots back into place’ fit me, too. Except you’re singing about this… this deep unrequited love, right?”

Well fucking ouch. “Yeah.”