A Song For Rory. Cerella Sechrist

he’d broken things off with her at the diner beside the Motel 8 in Little Rock, Arkansas. All because he’d been offered a recording contract, on the condition that he was a solo act with no Rory in tow.

      She still remembered the words he’d spoken when he sat her down to end their relationship...

      “I’m sorry, Rory, but it’s the opportunity of a lifetime. I can’t just pass it up for...” He’d trailed off, looking sheepish.

      “For me,” she’d said, finishing the sentence for him. “For us.”

      He’d sighed, the sound a huff of impatience. “They think I have a real shot, Rory—that I could be the next country music superstar. Only...it would be better if I was unattached, both musically and personally.”

      “So I’m excess baggage, is that it?”

      He’d made a gesture of dismissal. “You know it’s not like that. But sometimes, a person has to make sacrifices to go after what they want. And you and I have been together for so long. It’s probably about time we go our separate ways. You understand, right?”

      She shuddered at the memory. Oh, she’d understood him all too well. It had been easy for him to toss her aside when something better came along. She had been his sacrifice, but she’d felt more like an old shoe, thrown out when no longer useful.

      Because just like that, he’d severed thirteen years of love, friendship and collaboration. He’d drawn a line between who he was and who he wanted to be. He had never even checked in to see if she’d found her way safely back home to Findlay Roads.

      Recalling that low point in her life, she managed to shake off her guilt at leading him on.

      “Tomorrow,” she repeated, forcing her tongue around the lie. “I’ll see you then.”

       CHAPTER THREE

      SAWYER SHOWED UP at Callahan’s the next afternoon with a bouquet of flowers—purple freesias, Rory’s favorite—and a stack of autographed CDs for the restaurant staff. He felt a tingle of anticipation as he stepped toward the restaurant door, catching a brief reflection of himself in the windows. He’d chosen a casual, white button-down shirt, rolled up to his elbows, and he was wearing a faded pair of jeans. He’d ditched the baseball hat from yesterday, but he did wear a pair of sunglasses, both to combat the late-afternoon light and to hopefully stem any recognition as he walked into Connor’s establishment.

      Fortunately for him, business was apparently slow this time of day, and he only glimpsed a few tables with patrons. He saw several servers moving around, though, probably preparing for the dinner rush. He approached the hostess stand and found the same young woman from the day before. She was speaking with another woman, petite and curvaceous with blond hair. She held a stack of menus in her hand, and he couldn’t help noticing the ring she wore. A claddagh ring, on her left hand. The two women turned as he stepped up to the podium.

      Even with the sunglasses, the younger one from yesterday recognized him.

      “Oh! It’s you!”

      He smiled for her as he removed his shades. “It’s me,” he agreed.

      The second woman cocked her head, as though trying to place him. He’d seen that look before, on the streets and at airports or at coffee shops, and even the grocery store. It was the look people got when they thought he was familiar but couldn’t quite believe he was someone famous.

      “I’m Vanessa.” The younger woman held out a hand.

      He shifted the CDs and flowers into one arm to respond to her handshake. “Nice to officially meet you, Vanessa. I’m—”

      “Sawyer Landry. Of course you are.” She let her hand linger in his until he withdrew.

      He slid a glance in the other woman’s direction and caught her frowning at him.

      “Vanessa, can you take these into the back?” She shifted the stack of menus neatly into Vanessa’s arms.

      “Oh, but Harper...can’t I stay here?” She looked from the blonde to him, and back again, obviously conveying some sort of coded message.

      The one named Harper shook her head. “No, I think I’d better handle this.”

      Sawyer steeled himself. Harper may have looked sweet and pleasant, but he had the feeling she was a formidable gatekeeper. He wondered if Rory had actually put her in place to keep him away. But why invite him back to the restaurant if she didn’t want to see him? Maybe just to get him off her back temporarily. The thought filled him with dismay. He’d been looking forward to this for the last twenty-four hours.

      As Vanessa walked away with the menus in hand, Harper turned to face him.

      “We haven’t met,” she began. “I’m Harper Worth, Connor’s fiancée.”

      Sawyer’s eyebrows lifted. “Connor’s fiancée? Sorry, I didn’t realize he was engaged.”

      She smiled, and he had the sense she couldn’t help it. She seemed excited about her role as Connor’s bride-to-be.

      “I’m Sawyer Landry,” he belatedly offered.

      “I know. Even if I didn’t recognize you from your music, I’ve seen photos from when you grew up around here.”

      “Oh.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Just how much did Harper know about him? How much had Rory shared?

      He held up the CDs. “I brought these for some of the staff. One of the servers—I think her name was Dani—asked for an autograph yesterday. I promised I’d bring some albums by. Can you make sure she gets one of them?”

      “Of course.” Harper took the CDs from his hand, her gaze darting to the flowers though she didn’t comment on them. “That’s very nice of you. You have several fans here, so I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

      He dipped his head in acknowledgment, and then the two of them fell into an awkward silence.

      “Um, did Rory tell you I was coming?”

      Harper cocked her head. “No. Was she supposed to?”

      He didn’t know how to answer that. There wasn’t a reason for her to inform Harper he’d be stopping by. After all, she’d said they could talk on her break since it wouldn’t interrupt her work. But then, this woman was going to be her sister-in-law. Wasn’t that the kind of thing sisters shared with each other? He’d only ever had a brother, so he’d never had a chance to observe a lot of sisterly interactions. And he supposed it was different between sisters and sisters-in-law anyway. He cleared his throat.

      “Rory and I made plans. She said to stop by around this time—that she’d probably be getting a break before the dinner rush. Is she available?” He shifted the freesias from one hand to the other, feeling increasingly awkward under Harper’s steady scrutiny. He could only imagine how Connor had railed about him to her. He doubted Rory’s brother had given the best impression. He again wondered what, if anything, Rory had said to her.

      Harper hesitated, and he had the sense bad news was coming.

      “I’m sorry, but Rory isn’t working today.”

      He frowned in confusion. “Was there a last-minute schedule change or something?”

      She shook her head. “No, there have been no changes to the schedule, at least none involving Rory, this week.”

      Had she forgotten he was dropping by? Or had she simply gotten her schedule confused? Maybe she didn’t have his number anymore, to let him know plans had changed.

      “In fact, she never works on Fridays,” Harper went on. “She has a standing gig at the Lighthouse Café on Friday nights, so she’s always off those days.”

      Sawyer’s