pounding, I realized, and I attempted to slow it, to gather my nerves, to trust and follow.
For a few moments we moved stiffly together, our bodies swaying slowly to the music. All around us, the couples smiled and chatted, looking relaxed and casual, while every atom in my body felt frazzled.
“I like this song,” I said, swallowing. “What is it?”
He brought his head back slightly. “How is it possible you’ve never heard of Nat King Cole?”
I breathed out a laugh. “I don’t know.” Of course I did know. I’d grown up with a mother who didn’t offer a wide exposure to the arts, unless your definition of the arts was a People magazine she’d swiped from the methadone clinic now and again. And why did referring to her in the past tense still hurt so much, even after all this time?
I focused back on the song. It was beautiful and moving, and somehow unbearably sad. I relaxed against Travis, finally getting the hang of trusting and following, and allowing myself to do so.
For a few moments we simply swayed again, a different song starting. “Were things simpler then, do you think?” he asked softly. “These old songs always make love sound so . . . easy.”
I thought about that, listening to the man comparing his love’s face to a flower. “I don’t know if love has ever been simple,” I said. But I knew what he meant. The song alone seemed to convey the idea that love was all you needed.
I knew that wasn’t true.
And the man currently pressed against me had recently learned that lesson too, if he hadn’t known it already.
“My brother left town for a while, eight years ago,” he said.
I looked up at him, surprised at the change in subject. “Your brother?”
“Hmm hmm. Archer owns and runs Pelion. The land it’s on has been in my family since the town’s inception. It passes from one first-born son to the next.”
Wow. I had had no idea families owned entire towns. The Hale’s roots must be very deep. “Why did your brother leave?” I asked.
Travis shrugged, a small lift of his shoulders. “To find himself, I think. Sort of like you, maybe.”
“Did he?” I asked.
Travis was quiet for a moment. His expression was sort of distant and sort of sad and I had the odd feeling that this was a subject he didn’t discuss much. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully as though he’d found himself in a conversation he hadn’t meant to begin. But why would that be? It was his history. His family. His brother.
“He did,” he finally said. “Anyway, there was a party going on right in this very house the night he came back, which is why I thought of it. It’s still a thing of legend here. Bree, his wife now, was on the dance floor with someone or other when Archer arrived. The crowd parted, the earth moved, angels sang, and they’ve been together every day since. They have three kids now—the nephews and niece I mentioned—but they still look at each other the way I imagine they did that night,” he finished, almost as if to himself.
I breathed out a sigh. I felt charmed by the vision and the knowledge that since that moment, the two people he’d told me about had created a beautiful family.
Family. Roots. A rich history. My heart gave a sudden squeeze. What must that feel like?
The song came to a close and we stepped away from each other, gazes lingering. I felt slightly flushed, my emotions disorganized. I gave my head a small shake, fanning myself. “I should get some water.”
We walked to the edge of the dance floor, Gage suddenly appearing before us like a god from the mist.
“Travis. Haven,” Gage said, approaching us with a warm smile. “What a pleasant surprise. Thank you for coming.”
“Gage.” They shook hands.
“Hi,” I said, smiling, feeling better already, more on even footing now that Gage was standing in front of us. “Your family’s home is beautiful.”
“Thank you. Travis has been here a hundred times, but I’d be happy to accompany both of you upstairs where the bar’s set up.”
“I, ah, actually see someone I’d like to say hi to,” Travis said, sweeping his hand somewhere to the right. “But Haven did want a drink. Find me later, Haven?”
“Sure,” I said, feeling a strange twinge in my stomach at his departure. Here I was now, alone with Gage.