“We can brainstorm while we play.” Leo’s suggestion was casually made, but his gaze was far from casual. He was worried.
Wouldn’t be helpful to focus on Leo’s concern right now, so he looked away. “Perfect.” He took another swallow from the bottle. Good thing they’d stocked up recently. “Deal me in.”
* * *
He didn’t remember setting his alarm, but evidently he had. Loudest alarm ever. He shut it off, sat up slowly and swung his legs over the edge of the bunk. Today would be no fun. No fun at all.
Somebody had made coffee. He’d go get some. In a minute. First he had to make sure his head wouldn’t explode if he attempted to stand.
“Here, bro.” A hand appeared with a couple of aspirin in the palm.
He squinted up at Nick. “Thanks.” He managed to pick up the tablets, get them in his dry mouth and swallow some of the water from the glass Nick offered him. “Never been that drunk.”
“But you sang on pitch. That was—”
“I sang?”
“You sang.” Rafe approached with a steaming cup of coffee. “We didn’t know you’d learned that one.”
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “She’s My Kind of Rain?”
“That one,” Nick said. “You do a nice job with it. Not as good as Tim McGraw, but close.”
He thanked Rafe for the coffee and inhaled the smell of it. “Can’t believe I sang it.”
“Several times.” Rafe sounded amused.
“Aw, geez. Was Kate still here?” He sipped the coffee, careful not to burn his tongue. It already felt too big. If he scalded it, he might not be able to keep it from hanging out of his mouth like a happy St. Bernard.
“Kate left when the poker game broke up,” Nick said. “You fetched your guitar after that.”
“Glad she was gone, at least.” He drank more coffee. The jackhammer in his head gradually became more like the soft thud of hooves on a dirt path. The guys looked less blurry, too. “Did we brainstorm an Izzy plan?”
Rafe nodded. “We all agree you should sing her that song. You told us it’s your couple song.” He grinned. “You told us that a lot.”
“Look, I’m not standing outside her window like some loser and—”
“No, that would be lame,” Nick said. “You’ll perform it in the gazebo during the celebration tonight. I don’t know which song you’d picked, but do this one, instead.”
“I’m scheduled to play?” The jackhammer returned.
“That’s what Henri said last night. You don’t remember?”
“Not really. It’s possible I agreed to play weeks ago when they were rounding up entertainment. I have a vague memory of it.” Everything was vague, now. Exactly what he’d been going for as he’d downed copious amounts of cider.
“Check with Henri,” Rafe said. “She has a copy of the program.”
“I have a meeting with her at noon for something else.” He’d spaced the reason. It would come to him once the fog cleared. “I’ll ask her then.”
“Good. Let us know when you’ll be performing and we’ll make sure Isabel’s in the vicinity. Sing straight to her.” Rafe smiled. “She’ll love it. Guaranteed.”
“Not convinced of that, but it’s something, anyway. One thing’s for sure. I’ve already logged in rehearsal time on that number.”
Nick laughed. “That you have, bro.”
“Thanks for putting up with me, guys.” He glanced toward the bunkhouse window where the sky was growing lighter by the second. “Are Leo and Garrett gone already?”
“They are,” Nick said. “They had a sunrise ride going out.”
“For some unknown reason I remember that. And I kept them up late. Nice.”
“They’re okay. Better off than you.”
“No doubt. I need to get dressed.”
“I can cover for you,” Nick said.
“Yeah, me and Nick were gonna let you sleep but then your alarm went off.”
CJ craned his neck and peered up at Rafe. It was like standing at the base of the flagpole on the square and gazing at the Stars and Stripes rippling overhead. “You’re so damn tall.”
“Genetics.”
“Your parents were tall?”
He shrugged. “Guess so. Don’t know for sure.”
“Sorry. You mentioned that once. I’m not myself this—”
“Forget it. Listen, you could use a couple more hours of shuteye.”
“You stayed up as late as I did.”
“True,” Nick said. “But we didn’t try to suck up every bottle of cider in the house. Rafe and me, we’ve got this.”
“Nope. Thank you kindly, but I’ll do it.” He set the mug on the floor, clenched his jaw and stood. The jackhammer tortured him while he searched in vain for his shaving kit. Where the hell was it? Oh, yeah. In Izzy’s bathroom.
He didn’t have time to retrieve it now, so he’d go unshaven to the barn and maybe to the meeting with Henri. Getting his razor back would be a hassle. He hit the showers and the hot spray revived him considerably.
The morning went fast, thank God, and he had only five minutes to spare when he parked in front of Henri’s for their noon meeting. He glanced at her rose bushes before climbing the steps to her front porch. Eons had passed since he’d picked roses and gathered petals for Izzy.
Henri was at the screen door before he had a chance to knock. “The word’s out, son.” She pushed open the screen and beckoned him inside.
“That I spent the night drunk and singing a Tim McGraw song over and over?”
“That, too.” Her smile was kind. “You had your reasons.”
“Does Izzy know I did that?” He took off his hat.
“Maybe not. Lucy’s the only one who might tell her. I’m guessing the information went to Matt and no further.”
“I’d prefer she didn’t find out.” He rubbed his chin. “Pardon the scruff, but my shaving kit’s in her cabin and I—”
“Never mind. Makes you look rugged.”
“Especially with my bloodshot eyes.”
She gazed at him. “Charley showed up at my door once looking the way you do. We’d had a nasty fight and I’d…well, he thought I was through with him.”
“Why? What did you say?”
“That our relationship was never going to work.”
He winced. “Did you mean it?”
“At the time. I had
