Page 24 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
Gunner tipped his hat, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Darlin’.”
The endearment, casual as it was, sent a shiver down Aubrey’s spine. She turned to Emily and Sarah, determined to ignore the effect Gunner had on her. “Hi, we didn’t officially meet the other day. I’m Aubrey.”
As introductions were made, Aubrey couldn’t help but steal glances at Gunner. What was his relationship with Sarah? And why did she care so much?
The sound of hooves on packed snow pulled Aubrey from her thoughts. It was time to mount up. As she approached the horse she rode every week, a beautiful chestnut mare named Jester, she paused, taking in the breathtaking landscape before her.
The ranch stretched out in a winter wonderland, snow-capped mountains framing the horizon. Pristine white fields glittered in the sunlight, broken only by the dark silhouettes of pine trees. It was a far cry from the bustling streets of Atlanta, and yet…
“It’s something else, isn’t it?” Gunner’s voice was low, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath.
Aubrey nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She might not love everything small-town living had to offer, but the majestic views were something else.
But then Emily called out to Gunner, breaking the spell. Aubrey turned back to the horse that Decker was holding still for her and pushed away the conflicting emotions swirling within her. She had a ride to focus on, after all. “Thanks,” she told Decker.
He tipped his hat. “Enjoy the ride, ma’am.”
As she swung into the saddle, Aubrey zipped up her coat all the way, bringing her scarf up over her face to keep her warm.
Soon, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on the snow-dusted trail filled the air as the group set off, their breaths puffing out in small clouds in the wintery air. Aubrey found herself relaxing into the gentle sway of Jester’s gait, the tension in her shoulders easing with each step.
“So, Aubrey,” Willow called out from a few paces ahead, “ready to admit that country life isn’t so bad after all?”
Aubrey rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Don’t push it. I still miss decent sushi.”
Laughter rippled through the group, and Aubrey felt a warmth bloom in her chest that had nothing to do with the exertion of riding. For a moment, her worries about the bar, her past in Atlanta and even the confusing presence of Gunner faded into the background.
“We’ve got fish in the lake,” Eli chimed in, atop his black horse. “Slap it on some rice, and voilà! Montana sushi!”
“I’d pay good money to see you try that,” Aubrey shot back, her competitive streak flaring.
As the banter continued, Emily’s mother, Sarah, guided her horse alongside Jester. “Don’t beat yourself up about it too much,” she said with a warm smile. “I remember when I first moved here as a teen. Quite the culture shock.”
Aubrey nodded. “It’s…different. But not in a bad way, I guess.”
Sarah’s gaze drifted to where Gunner was riding ahead, deep in conversation with Emily. “Speaking of different,” she mused, “it’s wild seeing Gunner back in town. Did you know he was quite the rebel back in high school?”
“Oh?” she asked, aiming for nonchalance but knowing she’d missed the mark.
“Oh yeah,” Sarah continued. “He was a couple years behind me, but everyone knew Gunner Woods. Everyone knew he was bigger than this town.”
As Sarah spoke, Aubrey found herself studying Gunner, on his horse next to Emily’s gray pony, and trying to reconcile the man she’d met in Atlanta with this small-town rebel who was brave enough to chase his dreams and catch them.
“I guess it wasn’t a huge surprise when he hit it big,” Sarah added. “Some people are just destined for the spotlight, you know?”
Aubrey hummed noncommittally, her mind whirling. She’d known Gunner was famous, of course, but hearing about his roots stirred something in her. A curiosity, perhaps. Or something deeper she wasn’t quite ready to name.
Sarah leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if I were even remotely interested in men, Gunner would be at the top of my list. That voice, those eyes…” She fanned herself dramatically, then burst into laughter. “But I’ll leave that to someone else. My wife would have my head!”
Aubrey chuckled, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. Sarah’s easy humor was infectious, chipping away at the walls Aubrey had carefully constructed around herself. And now she knew Sarah and Gunner weren’t a thing at all, and that brought more relief than she thought necessary.
“Speaking of,” Sarah continued, her tone softening, “it’s good to see him looking more like himself these days. When he first came back to town…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
Aubrey’s grip on her reins tightened. “What do you mean?”
Sarah’s gaze turned distant, as if looking back through time. “Oh, honey. Everyone could tell he was a shell of himself. Exhausted, lost…like he’d left pieces of himself scattered across every stage in America. It broke my heart to see the guy I remembered looking so…hollow.”
A lump formed in Aubrey’s throat. She swallowed hard, her mind conjuring tormented images of Gunner, not the charming musician she’d met in Atlanta, but a man worn down by the weight of fame and expectations.
