“Seriously? No, dummy. But he needs you. He quit the band.”

Her fallen heart flopped around sickly for a second or two. “What did he do that for?”

“He’s pissed at them for bringing Raina to Austin without him knowing, apparently. Said it was the last straw.”

“He just…quit?”

“Is she causing you guys that much trouble? Is that what this is about? God, I can’t stand that bitch.”

“Candace. He quit?”

“Oh my God, are you listening to me right now? He quit. It was ugly. He’s been fighting with Mark for days; even Brian has had words with Mark—that’s the lead singer, in case you didn’t know. It’s been drama central up in here. You’re missing it.”

“I’ve had enough drama to last me a good long time.”

“So has he. Macy, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but he’s seriously talking about moving to Oklahoma. Brian is beside himself.”

Macy’s eyes filled with tears. Instantly, just like that, the thought of those weeks without him turning into something permanent released the flood she’d been holding back ever since getting home from Austin. She sat in silence for so long trying to find her voice that Candace said, “Hello? Mace?”

“I’m here,” she whispered. It was all she could manage.

“Oh God. I’m sorry. But do you see? You’ve got to talk to him.”

“What do I do? Keep him from going? As much as we hate it, what if that’s the best thing for him? All I’ve been thinking about is how lonely he must be. He doesn’t have anyone here.” She knew her friend could hear the sobs threatening to overtake the words.

“He has us! He could have you too, if you weren’t so f**king stubborn. Do you love him, Macy?”

“I do.”

“Then tell him.”

What if he didn’t love her back?

It was the thought that kept her awake, burning in her brain as if it had been branded to the inside of her skull. And she cried. She cried for days, cried rivers, found all the emotions she’d tamped down and buried and never wanted to face again after her accident. If she’d had something to hit in her apartment, she’d have pummeled it.

Jared tried to call her; she told him to leave her alone. He wasn’t really guilty of anything except trying to get her back, but his trying had caused all this shit in the first place. She told him she was in love, and even if it didn’t work out, there would be no going back for them. His anger at her probably meant she’d never get to teach his adorable little girls to ride again, but it wasn’t her place to worry about them. They would find someone else.

But she found herself hanging out at her parents’ place a lot more than usual, enduring Mom’s concerned frown and her dad’s jovial obliviousness. It was the latter she gravitated toward, hoping to work up the courage to ask his advice. While her love life had never been a hot topic between them—she actually shuddered to think of talking to him about that—if there was a person in her life who would give it to her straight, it was good old Dad. He might love Jared, but he loved her more. He wouldn’t push her in that direction if she didn’t want to go, she was sure of it. Now Mom, on the other hand…

Late March was beautiful at the ranch, and she’d just gone out to feed the ducks and enjoy the mild evening air—really missing Ashley and Mia, who loved to help her do this—when her dad yelled at her from the arena.

“Macy-girl! Want to give Pixie a run?”

Grinning, she wiped her hands on her jeans and strolled over. “Sure.”

“I can set up the barrels for you.” His graying eyebrows waggled under his John Deere cap, which he’d taken to wearing constantly now that he was losing his hair. It was a taboo subject around their house.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she stepped through the fence. “Oh…”

“No push,” he said, shrugging as if he didn’t care one way or the other. Dammit, he knew how to get to her.

Mouth dry, she looked toward the barn. The rush of blood in her veins was almost audible as she considered. Her dad’s hand came down gently on her shoulder.

“I’ll just say this. I know how you are. I know the main thing holding you up right now is fear, but it’s not fear of what might happen but that you think you might not be perfect. It’s been years, Mace. Give yourself permission to not be perfect. Life’s too short, but you’re still young. Give up that iron-knuckle grip you have on excellence and just…have fun. For a change.”

Her gaze swung up to meet his. “You always know the right thing to say, Dad.”

He grinned the grin her mom professed still made her heart go pitter-pat. “Could be. Or it could be that I have a stubborn mule of a daughter who takes after her old man.”

It was so much like old times, she could almost imagine her gaggle of rodeo friends hanging out around the fence. Country music blaring from Jared’s truck. Jared beaming at her, cheering her on. He’d usually been the one timing her. Now it was just her and her dad, and there was no admiring crowd. It was somehow far sweeter this way, and she knew she would remember it forever.

She only wished Seth could see her. Wondered if he’d be proud, or if he’d even care.

Pixie, her palomino quarter horse, pranced underneath her, and Macy gave her a consolatory pat. “I know how you feel, girl.”

“Ready?” Her dad didn’t have a stopwatch; he’d told her to take it easy to start, no serious speed. Good advice. Having been out of the game for years, she wasn’t conditioned. Yes, true to her dad’s earlier speech, that irritated the hell out of her, and she vowed to start working on that as soon as she could. At least Pixie could bail her out a bit. The horse’s previous owner had been a racer, and Macy’s dad had bought her only a few months ago. So she knew the cloverleaf pattern well, and Macy had already walked her through it a few times.

Inhale. Blow out slowly. Her horse wasn’t the only thing about to be galloping; her heart was too. She narrowed her gaze on the barrel to her right, her first target. There were no traumatic memories of the event to assail her, at least. As she’d told Seth, she didn’t remember a thing. No flying through the air, no bone-crunching impact. Her dad probably had worse images in his head right now than she did. If he could face those head-on like this, so could she.

“Remember, take her easy, now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go!”

She almost didn’t. Almost dismounted and said, “Some other time.” Knowing she’d be proving right everyone in her life was all that made her shoot ahead. Seth telling her she was afraid. Dad telling her she was too much of a perfectionist. Candace telling her she was a control freak.

She rounded the first barrel. That one’s for you, Candace, you freaking little free spirit, I guess you were right after all.

Then the second, her dad hollering at her to swing a little wider. She made the turn, careful to follow his instruction lest she knock it over. Something she’d done before, because she didn’t like to listen. See, Dad, I’m not that stubborn, not anymore.

She knew the third was where she’d lost it before. Apparently a video existed of the whole thing, but she’d never allowed herself to watch it. Probably for the best. As Pixie kicked up dust whipping her big body around the last barrel, Macy couldn’t help but grin. Her favorite part was the mad dash to the finish. Maybe the anticipation of it had made her sloppy and that was how she’d ended up eating dirt and flirting with lifelong paralysis.