Lavender Blue Page 14

  So why didn’t it feel so damn easy?

  A tap on the driver side window jerked him from his thoughts, startling him back into awareness. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been sitting there. He turned to find Bailey standing beside his truck, an implacable look on her young face. Will glanced around the parking area but didn’t see anyone else. He assumed Addie Pearl must have dropped her off but he’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed.

  He lowered the window. “Yes, Miss Bailey,” he said politely enough, as if they’d just bumped into each other on the street. “What can I do for you?”

  “Jake asked me to come listen to him play. He wants honest feedback and knows I’ll give it to him. You coming in?”

  It was clear from the very direct look she was giving him that she was well aware Jake had probably already asked him, and that Will wasn’t sitting there in his truck because he’d said yes. It was also clear she wasn’t going to be as acquiescent in accepting his lame excuses as his son had been.

  Shamed into manning up by an eleven-year-old.

  He let out a little sigh and looked back at the amphitheater. What are you waiting for? Your son’s life is passing right before you and you’re out here sitting on the sidelines. What are you so afraid of?

  He had an answer for that now, at least. He was afraid he’d fall apart like Hannah had out in the stable. Like he had the night Jake had first played. He was afraid it would always be like that. That he wouldn’t find a way through it, as Hannah had. That he’d be giving up control of his life, of himself.

  “Here,” Bailey said, and she handed him a big, white, linen hankie. “This belonged to someone I cared about.” She shook it until he took it. “He took care of me for a few years, but he had some problems from when he was in the army. He was special forces like Sawyer and Seth, and I guess he did things that he didn’t know how to deal with when he came back home. Eventually, he had to go somewhere they could take care of him all the time and I had to go back to a group home.”

  Will just sat there, totally unprepared for the fusillade of information Bailey was directing at him. In the two years he’d known her, since she and Jake had become good friends, he’d never known her to talk about her past.

  “I stole that from his nightstand before they came to get me,” she said, utterly unrepentant. “His wife—I never knew her—she stitched his initials in it. I wanted something to remember him by. It’s clean,” she added, as if that mattered.

  “Why are you giving this to me?” Will asked, his throat so tight he barely got the words out. His eyes were burning, too, just a little.

  “Because I’d like you to come inside and sit with me while we listen to Jake play his fiddle. It’s an awful fiddle, by the way. He needs a new one, a much better one, and he won’t tell you this, but I know he’s hoping you’ll get past whatever it is that’s keeping you from being able to come and share his music with him, and maybe make him one of his very own like you did for his mom.” She eyed him. “He’d kill me for telling you that, by the way, so it would be great if you wouldn’t mention it to him. Our secret.” She nodded to the linen. “Like the hankie. You can give it back whenever you’re done with it.” She eyed him flatly. “Clean, please.”

  That surprised a hoarse bark of laughter from Will and he nodded. There might have been something in his eye, too, that needed brushing away. Good thing he had a hankie now.

  “No one is going to care if you cry,” Bailey told him, quite matter-of-factly. “I mean, the way Jake plays, what he can do with that fiddle? It would bring a tear to any music lover’s eye.” She paused, as if considering her next words. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but then I probably shouldn’t say a lot of things. It’s just, I don’t think you need more folks tiptoeing around you, you know? If anyone understands what it’s like not to have family, it’s me, so that maybe gives me a different perspective on what is important in life, and what’s not. So, I think maybe it’s okay if I’m the one who doesn’t tiptoe around you and just puts it out there.”

  Will’s eyebrows lifted a bit at that, but he didn’t stop her.

  “What’s not important is worrying about what other folks think about you. Besides, I think folks here all know why you don’t make fiddles anymore, why you don’t play, so even if you do the big, ugly cry, they’ll just be happy you’re there for Jake. It’s just a few of us here today anyway. Friends and family.” She gave him another pointed look. “I didn’t have either of those things before, but I’m lucky enough to have them both now. So I know that supporting them, being there for them, no matter what my personal deal is? That’s what is important.”

  If he thought he couldn’t be any more humbled than he had been by observing Hannah’s courage in the face of what would seem to be insurmountable grief, he’d been wrong. Out of the mouths of babes.

  “Even if you never play again, or you don’t make another fiddle, that won’t matter so much if you can at least share Jake’s part in it. Might be a shame for everyone else, though, because from what I hear, Jake comes by his crazy talent with that thing honestly.” She shrugged. “But that’s your thing.”

  He could tell pretty much anyone else that they didn’t understand, that he appreciated the kind words and the intent to help him and his son and be sincerely grateful for the effort. Pretty much anyone except Hannah. And now Bailey. He looked past her again, wondering if Addie Pearl had had a hand in this little talk somehow. Will wouldn’t be surprised, but he also knew that assumption didn’t give Bailey enough credit.

  “Jake is very fortunate to call you a friend,” he told her.

  “He’d do the same for me,” she said, seriously and quite deliberately.

  Will thought his son probably would. He let out a slow breath.

  “We can sit all the way in the back,” she told him. “Jake wants a sound check from the cheap seats anyway.” She stepped back as if assuming Will was just going to get out of the truck and go with her.

  So why don’t you?

  “Why don’t I indeed,” he murmured. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs, clearing his head, then let it go, and tried to let everything else go with it. Then he rolled up the window and took his keys from the ignition. And got out of the truck.

  Chapter Ten

  Hannah tugged at the edge of her wide-brimmed hat to help block out the June sunshine. She’d already slid over one tail of the scarf she’d tied around the brim and spread it out a bit, so the draped material created a further shield from the glare. That was why she hadn’t seen him until just that moment, when she’d turned to squeeze a little more paint onto her palette.

  Will was sitting at the very back of the amphitheater. With . . . was that Bailey?

  Hannah squinted and shielded her eyes. She shouldn’t stare; it was just so unexpected. Not that he would see her anyway. She had positioned her easel and canvas east of the stage, so she could capture the sweep of the broad-beamed awning that extended outward from over the stage toward the seats that had been built into the slope of the hill, amphitheater style. The top of the hill leveled off, providing lawn seating, but the way the pavilion-style stage had been built, down in the hollow, provided wonderful, natural acoustics. The venue was rustic and seemed to fit organically into the lay of the land, as if it was meant to be there, had always been there.

  The mill was not quite a quarter mile away, through a copse of pine, cedar, and sycamore trees that dotted the edge of Big Stone Creek. Cars were parked in a cleared stretch between the two venues for those who wanted to drive in. Natural footpaths and trails that connected the mill and the music venue had been cleared of fallen limbs and leaves, widened where necessary, and clearly marked, so guests could wander from one location to the other. A series of hand-hewn benches created by a few of the mill artisans had been added in several spots near the water. A small number of picnic tables, grills, and fire pits would eventually be added along the riverside trails as well, hopefully before summer’s e
nd.

  Hannah had wandered the footpaths several times with her sketch pad and pencils, doing some rough drafts of scenes that had caught her attention. The venue itself was beautiful, rich with color, and now with the music filling the warm, late afternoon air, she’d given in to the urge and gone and gotten her paints and supplies from her Jeep, thankful she’d had a small, blank canvas tucked in her large tote along with her watercolor pads. Just in case. She didn’t work with oils often, preferring the soft wash of watercolors, but she’d given in to the urge to dabble, and was pleased with her results so far.

  At the moment though, her painting was forgotten, as she tried not to watch Will, watching his son play the fiddle . . . and failed miserably. Jake had been onstage several times over the past two hours, playing and singing both, sometimes pairing with Seth’s wife, Pippa, other times with various other musicians, and a few times he’d taken that big stage by himself. He was a remarkable talent both singing and playing, and Hannah simply couldn’t believe he’d only picked up a bow just a year before. Jake was an amazing musician, and watching him, it was clear his passion for the instrument matched his talent. She remembered his excitement about growing grapes and wondered which passion would win out when it came time to pursue a career path.

  Hannah had no idea how long Will had been there, but it filled her heart to see he’d come. She and Jake hadn’t spoken much since her talk with Will in Vivi’s bedroom, just enough to give her a chance to make sure Jake knew she wasn’t put out with him for any reason. Hannah knew, however, that Will didn’t involve himself in Jake’s musical ventures, and that it apparently had something to do with Jake’s mom.

  It was funny, Hannah mused, as she watched Bailey talking animatedly to Will after they finished applauding the song that Jake and the other musicians had just finished playing. When she’d been trying to find ways to learn more about Will McCall without coming out and asking, she’d been stymied at every turn.

  Now that he had finished the work on the fireplaces and chimneys out at the farmhouse, and hadn’t yet begun the other stonework Vivi had discussed with him, Hannah didn’t see him regularly anymore. Or at all, actually. Yet, it seemed that all anyone did when they were around her was talk about Will and Jake McCall.

  Hannah had told herself it was for the best that he wasn’t in her daily orbit, that she’d had the chance to make sure Jake knew she wasn’t upset with him in any way, but that he, too, was off doing other things and they no longer crossed paths with any regularity. Will was still dealing with his past, and had his hands full raising a smart, energetic, brilliantly talented young man. Hannah had her hands full, too: Lavender Blue’s welcome party was all but upon them; the learning curve of getting the farm up and producing was still an overwhelming factor; and she was painting again, producing work that she, as a full member of the Bluebird Crafters Guild now, would be making available for sale, both at the mill and out at the farmhouse.

  Better for the two of them to pursue their own paths forward. That not-kiss-that-had-totally-been-a-kiss was a pleasant memory. Okay, maybe a thrilling memory in many ways. Nothing wrong with that. A good piece of information to know about herself as she moved onward with her life here in her new home. She could feel things again, things a woman felt, separate and apart from being a mother or a businesswoman. That was good to know. Some future time, maybe she’d be fortunate enough to meet someone, and who knew . . . maybe she’d open herself up to that part of her life again. Once the farm was going, and she was more settled into her new routine with the mill and her work. Maybe.

  So why does just looking at Will McCall make your heart pound and your mood brighten right up? She was going to stop staring at him, go back to her painting. Any second now.

  And then it was too late. He turned his head, and despite the great distance between them, she felt the moment he laid eyes on her as surely as if he’d reached out and touched her. Feeling pinned to the spot by the weight of his gaze, she floundered. Should I wave? Nod? Acknowledge that we’re staring at each other?

  “Should you stop being a complete and utter ninny about the man?” she muttered under her breath, feeling ridiculous and all pent up, all at the same time.

  But she didn’t look back at her painting. And he didn’t look away.

  Then Bailey glanced her way, too. They were too far away for Hannah to see clearly any nuances in their expressions, but Bailey lifted her hand and waved. Hannah started to wave back, realizing too late that she still had the brush in her hand, and flung bits of sierra orange onto her shirt and face.

  Hannah spluttered and laughed, immediately reaching for her rag to wipe the paint from where it had splattered across her mouth. Bailey clapped a hand over her own mouth, clearly not so far away that she hadn’t figured out what had happened. Hannah turned to clean up as best she could, thankful she’d donned her apron and an old cotton shirt before starting. Fortunately, she hadn’t splattered the painting itself. When she’d set things right, she turned back toward the duo in the farthermost reaches of the amphitheater, only to discover their seats were now empty.

  She scanned the area and finally saw Bailey talking to Jake, who was seated at the edge of the stage, his legs dangling over the edge, fiddle propped in his lap. Hannah scanned the area again, wondering if Will had taken off now that rehearsal was apparently over, wondering why he, too, hadn’t stopped to talk to Jake first.

  “Hannah.”

  She spun around, thankfully with no loaded paintbrush in her hand this time, to find Will standing just a few yards behind her. “Will.” Beaming at the mere sight of him, her expression faltered as she caught sight of his face. He looked . . . gutted. She immediately walked toward him, her determination to put him in her rearview window instantly forgotten—again—concern for him now the only thing on her mind. “Are you okay? What’s happened?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your painting,” he said, his voice a bit rougher, a bit deeper than usual.

  “No, I’m just dabbling,” she said, waving off her work.

  He looked past her at the canvas. “That’s more than dabbling.” He cleared his throat, kept his gaze on her work. “You’re capturing the exact essence of the place.”

  “Thank you,” she said, still looking at Will, trying to figure out what was really going on. “I don’t usually work with oil paints,” she added as he continued to look at the painting. “But it’s something that’s been in my mind for a while.”

  “With good reason, it looks like. What will you do with it when you’re finished?”

  She started to brush away his polite comments in order to turn the focus back to him, then thought maybe the small talk was helping him work his way to whatever it was he’d sought her out to say. She turned to look at the piece, which was only partly done. “Addie Pearl and the guild have accepted me as a fellow Bluebird. I’ll be selling my work from my own spot in the mill. Eventually,” she added. She turned back to the painting, which still held his attention. “I’m not sure I’ll finish this one, though. I just needed to start it to get the image of it out of my mind and onto canvas.” She shifted her gaze back to his. “I know, sounds like a big waste of time and paint, but it’s sort of like bookmarking an idea for me. If it pulls me in, I’ll keep going. If not . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ll move on to something else.”

  That earned a brief smile as he looked from the painting to her, though his eyes still looked hollow. “How many unfinished canvases do you have?”

  Her expression turned a shade wry. “I might have had one or two or thirty stacked up against walls in my studio before I moved out here. I did manage to part with them when I packed up.” She gestured to the canvas on the easel. “This might be the beginning of my new unfinished collection.”

  His lips curved briefly again, nodded, but that haunted look remained.

  Hannah was at a loss as to what to say that would help. Should she mention Jake’s amazing talent or how wonderful it had been to hear him
play and sing? Or be more direct, and ask what had made Will decide to attend the rehearsal? It wasn’t something they’d spoken about directly before, so that seemed perhaps a bit too forward.

  The silence drew out, but before she could decide on the best path to take, Will finally spoke and made the decision for her.

  “I know you have a great many things to do before the welcome party out at the farm,” he began. “And now with your guild membership. Congratulations on that, by the way. They don’t just accept anyone, though with your obvious talent and career as an illustrator, they’re lucky to have you.”

  “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say,” she said, briefly ducking her chin. “And I’m not so busy I couldn’t find time to waste on a new canvas. What do you need? Is it about Jake? Does he need a ride up to Seth’s?” She suspected it was about far more than that, but didn’t know how else to help him into a conversation he was clearly struggling to find a way to start.

  He shook his head. “Pippa is driving him and Bailey on up. Addie Pearl will get them later and take them both to her place.”

  “I got here just before Pippa rehearsed. She’s amazing.”

  Will nodded and an even bleaker look flashed across his face. “She is that.”

  “I understand she donated the proceeds of her last album to help build this entire venue. That’s incredible. Jake has spoken of her many times, and all she’s done. He’s so fortunate to have her as a teacher,” Hannah went on, keeping the conversation steady, when what she wanted to do was walk up to Will, wrap her arms around him, and hold on. Let him hold on to her. “I confess I wasn’t familiar with her music before. I never listened to much folk music before moving here, but I can understand why she’s the big deal she is in the music world.”