.

      “And how is San Francisco?” Samantha asked.

      “Still the same amazing city by the bay.” But even Jenna could hear the sarcasm in her voice.

      “That good?” Samantha asked gently.

      Jenna had promised herself she’d be cheerful for her friend, no matter what was going wrong in her own life. Samantha deserved a supportive, happy maid of honor. “Oh, you know, when is life perfect, anyway?”

      Jenna turned away from the mirror, picked up a five-pound weight from the rack and did a few biceps curls. Glancing at Samantha, who was leaning against the wall watching her with a concerned expression, Jenna lifted the little barbell and pointed to her biceps with her free hand. “Look at those guns!”

      Samantha smiled at the joke but Jenna’s attempt at diversion didn’t work. “Stop pretending everything’s fine. You always do this.”

      “Do what?” Jenna switched the weight to her other hand. “What do I do?”

      “Pretend you’re happy when I can tell from a mile away that you’re not.”

      “I don’t want to bring you down,” Jenna admitted. “This should be a joyful time for you. You’re getting married.”

      “Let me guess. Jeff?”

      “Now known as He Who Cheats with Groupies.”

      Samantha’s hand went to her heart. “You’re kidding.”

      “Nope. Wish I was.” Jenna did a few more curls to distract her from the knots in her stomach—the knots that had been there for a week now.

      “What happened?”

      “I went to his show last weekend. I thought I’d surprise him backstage with a cake for his birthday. But someone had beat me to it—and her gift wasn’t cake.”

      “He didn’t...” Samantha paused, eyes wide. “They weren’t...”

      “Let’s just say her present didn’t involve clothing.” Jenna set the weight back on the rack.

      “No.” Samantha crossed the floor in a few quick steps, pulling Jenna into a hug. “That is so unfair. Awful. I am so sorry, Jen.”

      Jenna’s voice came out muffled against her friend’s shoulder. “I finally talked to him today. He called while I was driving out here. It turns out that wasn’t the only time he’s cheated.” The comfort in the hug was going to make her cry again and she didn’t want to. She stepped back.

      “Unbelievable.” Outrage had Samantha pacing the room. “First my idiot ex, and now yours? What is wrong with these men?”

      “I don’t know. But until I figure it out, I’m going to avoid them.” She couldn’t believe she’d missed so many signs with Jeff. If she’d been paying attention, she might have thought more carefully about what he might be doing all those nights on the road.

      “But if you just avoid them, then you’ll never meet a good one.” Samantha paused, a dreamy expression flitting across her face. Jenna knew she was thinking about Jack. “And some of them are really great.”

      “I’m starting to think you got the only good one.” Jenna hoped her words weren’t actually true, but at this point, post-Jeff, it seemed like a distinct possibility.

      “You’ll find someone.” Samantha put a hand on her arm. “You’re beautiful. Look at you!” She turned Jenna gently until they were facing the mirror again and picked up a lock of her hair. “Long red curls, huge blue eyes, amazing figure. You look like a miniature Rita Hayworth!”

      Jenna laughed. “Emphasis on miniature.” Samantha was about five foot eight. Next to her and four inches shorter, Jenna felt dwarfed.

      “Stop that! It will work out, I promise.”

      “Not until my radar gets better, it won’t. I choose these guys who cheat. Jeff always had other women hanging around after shows, but I just figured it was part of him being a musician. And when Brent and I dated, he didn’t technically cheat, but only because I broke up with him right before he was about to.”

      “And has Brent started circling yet? Now that he knows you’re single?”

      Jenna smiled. “You mean with his ‘I made the biggest mistake of my life letting you go’ speech? Not quite yet, but knowing my luck, he will soon.”

      “What would happen if you ever dated him again? I mean, it was sweet and romantic when you were in love and dance partners....” The dreamy look was back. Now that Samantha was engaged, she wanted everyone to have their own happily-ever-after.

      “He’d probably last about two weeks before he started looking over my shoulder for his next conquest. He just likes the chase. He isn’t and never was in love with me. Maybe I’m his backup plan for when he’s done playing the field.”

      “Well, either way, he’s an idiot, too,” Samantha declared.

      “It’s okay. He’s a good dance partner. And I’m not in love with him, either, anymore.” But she had been—very much so. The decision to keep working with him after he’d broken her heart was one of the hardest she’d ever made, but the smartest for her career. They really were good together and had two national championships to prove it.

      A deep weariness hit Jenna in a crushing wave. She didn’t want to talk about Jeff or Brent or any other guy who’d left her. “Let’s get outside so you can show me this ranch of yours. Can I see your grandmother’s house? Where it all began?” Samantha had inherited her grandparents’ ranch last year, which was how she’d met Jack and fallen in love, leaving San Francisco to be with him.

      Samantha giggled. “Where it all began. I like that. Maybe we should apply to make it a historical landmark.”

      Jenna felt relieved that her subject change had worked. “It should be! The site where the extremely urban Samantha Rylant fell in love with mountains and a cowboy. It is kind of historic!”

      They headed downstairs. Once outside, they walked down a narrow, rocky path that took them to the old ranch house. Its weathered white paint and sagging porch made it the complete opposite of Jack’s stone-and-glass modern home. Samantha took out a key. “We’re using it as my office and a guest house for friends and family.” She showed Jenna through the old rooms with their high ceilings and quaint wainscoting. Her office was so perfectly organized that it looked like one of those catalog photos of a home office, complete with neatly labeled baskets.

      Jenna had never understood how Samantha had been able to live out here in the old, empty farmhouse by herself for days at a time. It seemed spooky to be alone in a house that had been closed up for years and was situated so far from everything. But now she got it. There was a cozy, comfortable feeling in the old home, such an air of happy history that Jenna couldn’t imagine not wanting to stay there.

      Samantha locked the front door behind them and they started back up the path. Maybe the clean alpine air was exactly what Jenna needed. She inhaled huge lungfuls as they wandered through the ranch, trying to take in the purity of it and exhale all her anger. She just didn’t want to feel it anymore. Beyond the barn, they passed a few smaller corrals and started up a gravel road to the upper pastures, closer to the mountains.

      Without a flat tire to worry about, the weathered ranch buildings and quiet pastures inspired serenity. The age-old mountains with their miles and miles of wilderness put her soap-opera troubles into perspective.

      Samantha stopped by the wooden pasture fence. “Maybe we just need to set up some guidelines. You know, parameters to make sure you weed out the bad ones.”

      “When you say weed, you’re not talking about plants, are you?” Jenna quipped.

      “Men, of course!” Samantha had a look in her eye that Jenna recognized. It was her friend’s let-me-organize-your-life look.

      Jenna