Page 79 of Her Wild Coast Refuge

The applause and whistles die down, and the band starts dismantling their equipment. Piped-in music blasts from the giant speakers lining the stage to entertain the crowd in the interim. The sun has dipped below the foothills, creating a soft glow that feels like a spell cast to make time slow.

A flutter tickles my insides and I grin at Dawson. He smiles back, his eyes bright.

Jared and his bandmates appear from the back to set up. I hurry through the milling crowd towards the front, the boys right on my heels. We weave to the center, and when Jared looks up, scanning the crowd for me, I wave. He gives me a quick nod and a toothy grin before returning to his task.

“What does Jared play?” Dawson asks.

“Lead guitar,” I say over the noisy crowd. “He started playing when he was seven. His whole family is musical.” I point to a tall man in a flannel with the sleeves rolled up. “That’s his older brother Isaiah, he plays banjo and mandolin. Their younger sister Helen studied at Cornish. She’s touring in Europe with Nickel Creek right now.”

I realize I’m chattering and bust out laughing. “Sorry.”

Jared’s band does a sound check, and they fiddle with their microphones and strings and cords for another few minutes.

The music from the speakers fades, and Sideline’s lead singer Rafael leans into his mic. “Good evening. How’s everybody doin’?”

Applause and cheers rise from the crowd.

If Dawson notices the extra guitar Jared tuned, he doesn’t mention it. Nerves tingle over my skin and flips my tummy.

“Thanks for being here tonight,” Rafael says, then steps back and nods at Jared, then Isaiah. The first song opens with a mandolin solo, Isaiah’s long fingers moving over the strings like magic, filling the air with sweet sound. The small instrument looks at home against his tall frame. Jared and Rafael join, the strumming and vocals adding a zealous energy to the song. The crowd cheers and soon everyone is dancing.

I swish between Dawson and Quinn as the crowd swirls around us. The song ends but a new one quickly begins, this one faster, with Jared’s vocals matching Rafael’s in a powerful duet while Isaiah layers the harmony with his fiddle.

A joyful energy ripples through the crowd, like we’re riding a magic carpet. Dawson pulls me close, our bodies molding together perfectly. The heat from his core radiates into me, stoking the fire between us that much higher. Then Quinn tugs me away, spinning me until I’m breathless and dizzy. Dawson slips his arm around my waist and twirls me back to him.

Joy burbles up from inside me and I laugh in surrender. Maybe this night is some wonderful gift from the universe. A kind of divine intervention. This must be how Cinderella felt, sneaking off to the ball in her glass slippers and pretty silk gown.

The song ends with a final chord from Isaiah’s fiddle, and the crowd erupts with applause.

“We’ve got a little emergency up here,” Rafael says once the ruckus dies down. He locks eyes with me.

My tummy flip-flops so hard my knees wobble.

“There’s a song we’d like to play, but we don’t have permission from the artist who wrote it,” Rafael adds. “It’s called High Wire.”

The crowd cheers.

Dawson makes a sound—half grunt, half gasp. “What the…”

“The good news is he’s here tonight,” Rafael says, grinning. He glances back at Isaiah and the bassist, then Jared. “Whaddya say, guys? Should we ask him?”

By now, the crowd is following Rafael’s gaze. Whispered conversations ripple through the crowd.

Jared leans to his mic and grins at Rafael. “Better yet, maybe he’d play it with us?”

I watch Dawson go completely still.

Quinn raises an eyebrow. “That’d be one helluva thing to turn down.”

Dawson turns to me, and while the crowd pulls back to let him through, he cradles my face and kisses me.

His lips are soft and tender, but there’s a desperate, urgent energy thrumming between us. The warm night air feels charged and potent, like it’s going to erupt. I grip his wrists to steady myself. He pulls back, his hungry eyes blazing. It’s a look of longing and anguish that hits me deep down in my toes.

“How did you do this?” he asks, in awe.

I laugh and wipe my eyes. “Go.”

With a rueful shake of his head, he turns away and hurries to the stage.

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