A Song For Rory. Cerella Sechrist

      There was the clicking and scuffing of shoes along the tile as the other shower attendees made a dash from their private reception room to commence the hunt.

      “Meet you back here once I have all my items,” Erin offered, and then Rory was on her own.

      * * *

      RORY REGRETTED ERIN splitting their list by the time she reached the second item. Paige had obviously increased the difficulty with each sequential object. While she doubted Erin had had much trouble locating the penny, paper clip, or candy, Rory had gotten creative in tracking down a fork, newspaper, postage stamp and piece of hotel stationery.

      But the final item on her list was the oddest.

      An umbrella.

      Rory stared at it for a full thirty seconds, wondering how in the world Paige had come up with these items. She stood in the hotel lobby, a gift bag—compliments of the resort gift shop—filled with her scavenger items hanging from her fingers. Where to find an umbrella?

      She looked around, wondering if Paige meant for her to steal it from the coatrack. No way was she taking it that far. It was just a stupid game, after all. This is what came from letting Paige take charge. Rory sighed and tapped her foot then winced as the straps of her sandal pinched the side of her ankle. She was tempted to just take off her shoes and walk around barefoot, but Paige would probably be scandalized at the sight.

      She moved toward the other side of the lobby and leaned against a column, which was hidden behind the large fronds of a potted palm, and rubbed at the offending sandal strap. She supposed she could always ask at the front desk for help. She knew some hotels kept umbrellas on hand for the convenience of their guests. But then her attention fastened on the placard sign standing nearby, advertising happy hour in the hotel lounge.

      She grinned. Ah. Paige didn’t specify what type of umbrella. Surely one of those little cocktail ones would suffice.

      Rory straightened and headed in the direction the sign indicated.

      She couldn’t wait to see the look on Paige’s face when she and Erin showed up with all their items.

      * * *

      RORY ENTERED THE hotel lounge, which was pretty quiet this time of day. She imagined it was a much livelier place during the evening hours. But right now, there were only a few businessmen seated at the bar, and a young couple in a corner. Rory’s eyes drifted to the stage that dominated the room. There was no live entertainment taking place at the moment, but the sight was still a familiar one to Rory. Over the years, she’d played in over a hundred bars and lounges just like this one as she and Sawyer traveled around the country, performing their special blend of country and Irish folk music as they tried to make a go of a musical career.

      She’d given up that life after Sawyer left her, though, and while she may have missed the man, she didn’t miss the smoke and gloom of the bar scene. In some ways, it had been a relief to walk away from it all...even if she did still resent Sawyer for the way he’d abandoned her.

      “Excuse me.” She approached the bartender. “I need an umbrella.”

      He eyed her with a look he must have reserved for customers who’d had too much to drink. She frowned at his reaction. “You know, one of those little ones you put in fancy cocktails?” She held up her torn sheet of the scavenger list. “I’m on a scavenger hunt.”

      The man’s eyes cleared. “Ah, part of the bridal-shower party, are you? I’ve seen a few of you going back and forth.”

      Rory nodded in confirmation. “So, do you have any tiny umbrellas?”

      “I think we have some in the back. Give me a minute to see if I can scrounge one up for you.” He gave her a wink, but she pretended not to see it as she shifted her attention away from the bar.

      She hoped the other shower guests weren’t way ahead of her. She didn’t normally have a very competitive streak, but she didn’t want to end up dead last in this game. She had a feeling Paige would somehow hold it against her. She wouldn’t be surprised if the other woman had a game planned to name the worst bridesmaid in the wedding party. Not that Rory was shirking her bridesmaid duties. It was just that Paige always seemed to expect so much more.

      While Rory waited for the bartender to return, she reached for the bowl of peanuts on the bar. She picked through them, not really all that hungry even though the shower luncheon had consisted of mostly dainty finger foods. She’d probably be starving by the time she punched in for her shift at Callahan’s that night. Maybe she’d try to get there a little early and grab a bite.

      She pushed the peanuts aside, then tapped her fingers restlessly on the smooth plane of the bar. With nothing else to occupy her, she turned her attention to the hi-def televisions mounted behind the counter. An entertainment channel was running—she recognized several of the starlets that flashed across the screen. There was no sound coming from the TV, but the captioning was announcing which of the featured celebs were going to be on the next season of some hit reality show. She leaned against the counter and watched the monitor without any real interest. She was just starting to space out, wondering what was taking the bartender so long and whether Erin had found all the scavenger items on her half of the list, when the entertainment host shifted to the next story on his agenda.

      She stiffened as the familiar face of her ex-boyfriend flashed across the screen.

      “Sawyer,” she breathed.

      The headline ticker across the bottom of the screen announced him as the winner of the coveted Artist of the Year honor at the American Heartland Radio awards show. She experienced a pang of grief and a thrill of pride, both at the same time.

      He’d done it. Not only had he found success as a country music star, but now he also had the most prestigious award in the industry to back it up.

      The image shifted to him on a stage, holding his prize and speaking to the audience. Her heart fluttered as she noted that success had only enhanced his handsomeness. The light brown hair that he’d always kept on the longer side had been trimmed and styled, and the dusting of scruff along his jaw added a layer of cowboy cute that was surely a hit with female fans. She swallowed, peanut crumbs sticking in her throat.

      “You a fan?”

      She jerked, realizing the bartender had returned. He was holding out a miniature yellow drink umbrella, and it appeared as if he’d been standing there waiting for her to take it for some time.

      “No, I’m not,” she replied, her voice clipped.

      “If you say so.” He looked at the television, and Rory tried not to follow his gaze. She didn’t need to see Sawyer again, didn’t need to feel the stab of betrayal and heartbreak once more.

      After nearly two years, she’d thought it wouldn’t hurt so much. Wasn’t that what everyone had told her? It takes time. Wounds heal. You’ll find love again...and all that. But Rory wondered how much more time she’d need? How much longer would her tender heart ache at the mention of his name or the sight of his face on a magazine, website or on TV? When could she finally stop avoiding country radio, afraid to hear his latest hit and wonder if he ever thought of her, if he ever missed her like she missed him?

      “Don’t you need to get back to your party?”

      Rory snapped to attention a second time as the bartender spoke to her. She tried not to bristle. What business was it of his if she wanted to hide out in here, away from the fuss and frills of this wedding business? Every time she turned around these days, she was confronted with reminders of love and happily-ever-after. She was thrilled for her brother and Harper—of course she was. But their impending nuptials were a reminder, every single day, that she was alone. Maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad if she and Sawyer hadn’t been together for so long, if they hadn’t had so many dreams and plans of a life together.

      She shook her head. No use going there. She forced herself to look back at the television. Sawyer still dominated the screen, but it appeared to be a post-awards