Kate laughed. “I suppose you’d look at it from a businesswoman’s point of view. I just loved the feel of the place. I bought yarn even when I don’t knit or crochet, just because I loved going in there.”
“Why?”
“It’s cozy and yet you’re part of things since you can look out on the square.” Kate’s phone pinged. “That’s my alarm. We need to get back.”
“Okay.” She took one last look at the corner shop. Perfect location.
But would she be any happier here than CJ would be in Seattle? Her hormones said yes, but her brain wasn’t convinced.
If she took the leap and lived to regret it, she could turn a difficult situation into an unbearable one.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Izzy was avoiding him. That hurt, but CJ wasn’t about to chase after her. The bleachers were crowded for tonight’s event. Nice to see that so many folks wanted to see the Babes do their thing.
Garrett, Nick and Leo had claimed a spot along the top row and they waved him up. He made the climb and took a seat next to Garrett without checking to see where Izzy had parked herself. When he made a quick survey, he found her three rows down and about ten feet to his left sitting with Kate and Rafe.
Nick must have caught him looking. “Have you talked to her at all?”
“Nope.”
“Her choice or yours?”
“Hers. I’ve caught her eye a few times but she just turns and goes in a different direction.”
“That sucks.”
“Yep.”
Garrett glanced at him. “I’m sorry, buddy. I thought for sure… well, never mind.”
“Yeah, I thought so, too.” He focused on the seven women mounted and waiting near the arena. A large suede-cloth banner hung on the fence with Babes on Buckskins stitched in elegant gold letters. “I’m happy for the large turnout.”
“Me, too,” Garrett said. “Are they any good?”
Nick laughed. “Clearly we’ve neglected your education.”
“Was that the wrong question?”
“Let me put it this way,” CJ said. “Ed is one of the top barrel riders in the country and she’s been teaching the others in her private indoor arena for… how long has it been, guys?”
“Years,” Leo said.
Garrett’s eyes widened. “Ed’s still competing?”
“And winning.” CJ shifted his position so he could keep track of Izzy from the corner of his eye. “She picked up another trophy last month, which is even more impressive since she was on a relatively inexperienced horse.”
“That’s amazing for someone her age.”
“Better not reference her age when you’re talking with her, dude,” Nick said. “She’s liable to challenge you to an arm-wrestling match.”
“Thanks for the tip.” His gaze shifted to the arena. “Looks like they’re ready to start. I was interested before. Now I’m excited.”
“They’re fun to watch.” And a welcome distraction. CJ let himself go, cheering and whistling after each run.
Izzy got into the spirit of the occasion, too, leaping up and clapping wildly for each of the Babes. She went especially crazy when Lucy took her turn on Muffin. Ed’s seasoned gelding gave Lucy an edge and she was clearly thrilled about it.
His phone pinged as the demonstration ended. Izzy? Heart racing, he checked the message. Rafe.
Nick leaned around Garrett. “What’s up?”
“Rafe’s confirming he and Kate will make sure Izzy’s there for my song.”
“Good.”
“I’d better grab my guitar and hotfoot it over there. Not a lot of spare time.”
Nick raised his hand for a fist bump. “Go get her, bro.”
“Thanks.” His gut tightened. Most critical performance of his life.
* * *
The country band that was becoming a regular at the Choosy Moose was packing up as CJ approached the gazebo.
He mounted the steps. “Forgot you guys had the slot in front of me.”
“Yep.” The lead singer glanced up and shoved back his hat. “You’re a solo act?”
“Yeah. I’m not a pro like you guys, but the organizers thought I should do a song, so here I am.”
“Which song?”
“She’s My Kind of Rain.”
The guy squinted at him. “I thought I recognized you. You’re the dude who requested that tune on Tuesday night for a special lady.”
“I am.”
“So now you’re singing it to her on your own?”
“Something like that. Hoping it helps my cause.”
“Usually does.” He turned toward his bandmates, who were disconnecting the speakers. “Hey, hold up a minute.” He swung back around to face CJ. “How’d you like the guys to give you some backup? Obviously, they know this one.”
“I appreciate the offer, but—”
“I’m sure you’d do great on your own, but take it from me, it’s nice having more instruments in the mix. Makes for a richer experience.” He smiled. “Go big or go home, dude.”
CJ laughed. “You have a point. This is my Hail Mary pass. I could use the help.”
“Excellent. I’ll announce it for you, too. What’s your name?”
“CJ Andrews.”
“I’m Drake Cutler. Let me introduce you around, CJ.”
By the time he’d met the band members, established the key and tuned his guitar, it was time.
Izzy was out there, standing with Kate and Rafe about five or six yards from the gazebo. The rest of the Buckskin gang was arranged around them in a loose semi-circle. They likely wouldn’t stop her if she tried to bolt, but the configuration made him smile.
Drake did a bang-up job introducing him and the song, making him sound like a local celebrity.
As the band played the intro, CJ focused on Izzy, stepped up to the mic and began to sing. Onlookers wandered over and the crowd grew, some inching closer to the gazebo, but he could see over them. His vision narrowed until there was only Isabel Marie Ricchetti, the mother of their child, his soul mate, his kind of rain.
Then…magic. Izzy walked slowly toward him, slipping through the crowd until she stood directly in front of him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She stood very still, her gaze locked with his. And those beautiful brown eyes told him all he needed to know.
How he finished the song was a mystery. He must have, because generous applause crashed around him. He lifted the strap over his head and leaned
