Laughing, Sal skirts Seth to join Luke’s side. She’s smiling as she scopes out Jace’s bass, leaning across to plunk a string. She runs a finger along the curve of Luke’s guitar. Takes in her name on the fretboard, the chipped bridge, the scraped-up top. Sal’s utterly fascinated by the instruments, her face aglow with awe.
For a long minute, he takes it all in. Everything he has on his front porch. And he’s damn near toppled by a sudden sense of urgency. Determination. To be the man his band needs. The husband Sal needs. And he wants to tell her that she’s better than anything he deserves.
That this second chance means everything to him.
There’s the swish of her thin cotton dress as Sal sits down. She props her feet up on the cooler, sticks her hands between her knees and leans forward. Her gaze rises to his. “Y’all aren’t packing up, are you?”
Jace’s eyes flick to Luke, then back to Sal. “What do you got in mind?”
“Play me something.” Her eyes grow heavy-lidded as she stares Luke down. The look she’s giving him—stone-cold adoration. And her words ring out, straight to Luke’s heart. “Please. Sing me a song?”
Sal shivers in delight as the Brothers Kincaid raise their voices to sing like a heavenly gospel choir. They sound beautiful. Like ragtag honkytonk angels. The crumbling porch their stage, they sing about bartenders and fistfights and good-loving women.
She’s captivated by them. The way they play with such ease, how in sync they are. Picking each other up, following each other’s lead. Seth’s a maniac on the fiddle, Jace calm and cool with his upright bass.
And Luke. Sal knows she’s staring, maybe gawking, but she can’t help it. He’s beautiful. So in his element. A force of nature. Luke’s lightning hands, the way his fingers move across the guitar strings. The veins in his arms, the ropey muscles in his forearms flexing and bending as he plays.
He’s a changed man. His body loose and limber. No worries, no weight on his shoulders. Playful and energetic. He loves that guitar and his friends and the music. He plays with guts, with love, and Sal finally sees what she’s been missing. Or, better yet, what she’s had all along.
She hasn’t felt this content in ages. Each day she spends on this farm, with Luke and their friends and family, she’s convinced she’s where she needs to be. Everyone has been so patient, standing by her as she acclimates to her new life. She’s so damn grateful for their support.
The song ends on the low, weltering warble of Seth’s fiddle. Laughter and commotion as the boys pound each other on the back. Sal claps, smiling right along with them.
For a second, though, her happiness is sideswiped by sadness. She can’t help but think about her own job as a paramedic and the training she can’t remember. She doesn’t have something like this anymore. A career. An escape. She knew helping people was important to her. She had a life with Luke, but she also had her life.
The squeak of the screen door calls Sal back to the present. Lacey, her brow furrowed, steps onto the porch. “What’re you doing?”
“Listening.” She elbows her sister in the side. “So were you.”
Minutes ago, she had seen Lacey hovering behind the screen door as the Brothers Kincaid played, her face frozen in a kind of regretful awe.
Lacey scoffs as if any enjoyment were beneath her. “Let’s go back inside.” Lacey tugs at Sal’s arm. “I found the photos of Great-Grandma Nance.”
Sal bugs her eyes at Jace, who dips his head to stifle a laugh.
She can’t look at another photo. Ever since she got back from therapy, Lacey’s been following her around, fussing, wondering where she is, where she’s going, if she needs help. Her sister’s sweet, but she can only take so much coddling before she feels like an escaped mental patient.
While Lacey only wants to help, and while it’s all interesting, it’s not the present.
Sal’s gaze lands on Luke.
It’s not her present.
Another tug on Sal’s arm. “We’ll finish out the photos. Then make dinner or do face masks.”
Stone-cold terror slices through Sal.
Dear God, no.
Sal shoots Seth an SOS signal. Help. Me. Please.
Seth raises a brow and instantly, a silent conversation passes between them. He gives a small nod, then snaps shut the latches on his case. “I don’t know ’bout any of y’all, but I could use a drink.”
“We got beers right here,” Luke says easily.
“Not me,” Jace says. “I gotta get—”
“Yeah, yeah, home to Emmy Lou, we got it.” Seth eyes Lacey. “What about you?”