A press conference. Serious faces. Wet eyes.
Clicking on a video link, Sal leans in close. It’s Luke. Being interviewed from his hospital bed. He’s in pain, agonized, his voice cracking and breaking in all the wrong places. “We have to keep looking for Sal. We have to find her. Please. My wife—”
Sal’s heart takes a dip. She turns off the video. Unable to handle Luke’s sadness. It feels wrong to be a voyeur to his grief without first asking him about it.
Now, Sal types, the Brothers Kincaid.
Her eyes scan articles, quotes, photos.
Childhood friends Luke and Seth Kincaid and Jace Taylor have been playing together for longer than they can remember ...
The Brothers Kincaid are drawn to country and rock influences with a bluegrass foundation ...
Even after his band, the Brothers Kincaid, became one of the most popular country bands of today, Luke Kincaid keeps a steady head ...
Twenty minutes later, the sun has shifted and Sal’s still reading.
Noticing the quiet of the house, she pauses, lowers the phone. Glancing down, she traces the tattoo on her palm. Runs a thumb over her bare ring finger, closing her eyes at the absence of her wedding ring.
She thinks of Roy.
Of Luke.
Taking a breath, she stands.
She hasn’t lived her life in so long. Today, she starts.
Six a.m. and Luke carries a cup of hot coffee out onto the back porch. From here, he can see everything special about Wild Antler Farm. The sunrise painting the rolling hills. The sparkle of the river in the distance. The tree line of the silver-green forest. Dandelion fluff floating on the breeze.
This view—he’s seen it a thousand times, and yet, it’s still a scene he can’t get enough of.
Unfurling the paper, scooped from the front porch, he scowls at the headline—Country Superstar Luke Kincaid Brings ‘Dead’ Wife Home!—and trashes it.
Fucking vultures.
The crack of the door has Luke turning, expecting to see Seth. Instead, he finds Sal. Barefoot, her dark hair kinked from sleep, wearing his T-shirt and sweats. “Hey, good mornin’,” he says, facing her, his back braced by the porch railing.
“Mornin’.”
Luke smiles, amused to see his wife up this early. Sal was always a voracious sleeper.
“You sleep okay?”
“I did.”
Sal moves closer to Luke, her light footsteps whisking across the deck. She barely turns her head. Her delicate features resolute and absolutely steady. There’s no mention of the nightmare. Any trace of the vulnerable woman he had held in his arms last night has been chased away by the morning sun. In her place is a grimly determined Sal who will face the day.
A soft gasp comes from Sal. She’s gazing out at the river.
As she takes in the view, a finger of golden sunlight falls across her face. Her luminous green eyes shine like sea glass, her full lips pulled into a sunny smile.
Luke can’t tear his gaze away. She’s so damn beautiful.
A tilt of her head and Sal’s asking, “What is it?”
Luke shakes himself awake.
Shit. She’s caught him staring.