Second Chance Ranch: a Hope Springs novel (Entangled Bliss) by Cindi Madsen Page A

like the barriers were coming down, and the song had her thinking about taking chances before they slipped away. “I’m just going to see if he needs help.”
    Sadie had underestimated the walk back—not the distance, but she kept wobbling on the uneven ground and tripping across rocks she didn’t see. Royce’s place was dark, a black outline against a sky almost as black.
    If I fall and break something, he’ll probably scold me for not having a flashlight. Not like he was using one. The lights in his house snapped on, sending enough of a glow for her to see by. Her booted footsteps on the wooden steps sounded loud in the silence.
    She almost smacked into him as he came out balancing a couple of six-packs of Coke in his arms. “Whoa, sorry. I thought you might need some help.” Her words came out all together, one big blur she hoped made sense.
    His eyebrows lowered. “With soda?”
    “Well…yeah? I guess?” Great, now I’m talking in all questions.
    “I got it.”
    She scratched the side of her forehead, which had suddenly become uncontrollably itchy. Now that she was face-to-face with him, she was rethinking everything, unsure what she’d been doing following after him. As if things would magically be all good between them because of a water fight, a conversation about Second Chance Ranch, and one song around a campfire. “I guess I’ll just…” She gestured at the fire burning in the distance. She headed down the stairs, holding the rail so she wouldn’t fall and turn this moment from awkward to embarrassing.
    “Sadie.”
    She spun around, and Royce came down a step, still one above her. “About what I said that first night in the grocery store about you not being on the radio…I should’ve never said it. For what it’s worth, I always thought you’d make it. And when you sang tonight?” His dark eyes locked onto hers. “Well, it blows my mind that you didn’t.”
    Sadie ran her hand up and down the polished wood railing, her heart expanding at his words. But then she remembered all those years ago, when she’d told him what she wanted to do and he hadn’t said a word, simply stared at her like she was speaking another language. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I left?” I desperately needed to hear that all those years ago.
    “Why do you think?” He took another step down, but because of his height and the uneven ground she was standing on, he was still looming over her enough that she had to crane her neck. His fingers trailed down her arm, and even with the layers of fabric between them, she felt his touch in her core. “I was in love with you, and I thought that was enough. I thought I could make you happy.”
    “Royce.”
    He squeezed her hand once, firm and quick, and then continued toward the campfire. If he thought he could say something like that and just walk away, he had another thing coming.
    …
    Damn it, why had he admitted all that? It must’ve been the singing—he remembered learning about sirens in school, how they’d sing and make men lose their minds. He’d thought it was stupid, but now he got it.
    “Royce, slow down.” Sadie caught up to him, but he didn’t dare look at her. She grabbed onto his elbow and he reluctantly stopped.
    “You can’t just walk away.”
    “Why? Because that’s your thing?”
    “That’s not fair. You know I loved you, too. You think it was easy making that choice?”
    He stared over at the flickering flames of the fire. “Look, I’m over it—glad, actually, that things worked out the way they did. All I was trying to say was that you should’ve made it. Let’s not make a big deal of it.”
    “But it is a big deal. I had to try.” Sadie stepped in front of him. Her eyes shone in a way that let him know she was holding back tears. “I knew I’d always wonder. Always regret not giving the singing thing my best shot. In the end, it would’ve driven us apart.”
    He shook his head, tamping down the flood of emotions