Bluestone & Vine by Donna Kauffman (13)

Chapter Thirteen

She was standing in a classroom, surrounded by music stands, folding chairs, and a small, makeshift stage. But Pippa might as well have been standing on the edge of a cliff, with one foot slipping perilously close to the edge. Her heart was thundering that hard.

“And when you leave?” he asked, his eyes dark with the kind of want that made her toes curl inside her boots and every pleasure point in her body tighten to the point of pain.

“Then we’ll either come up with a plan . . . or we’ll be idiots and say our good-byes, deserving whatever heartbreak we get.”

He surprised her by smiling. “You Irish are a rather maudlin lot.”

She let out a watery laugh. “For all we know, we’ll have parted ways long before I hie myself out of here. It’s quite possible we’ll wonder what on earth we were thinking, getting tangled up with one another.”

“Speak for yerself, lass,” he said, then pulled her into his arms, folding her up close as he tipped her head back and closed his mouth over hers as surely, as rightly, as any man ever could.

It was as romantic as any windswept romance she’d ever read, and everything she’d wanted him to do that day standing beside Big Stone Creek. They’d wasted so much time. With that thought, she gripped his shoulders and gave herself fully to his kiss.

This wasn’t the teasing exploration of their sunset dance on the porch, nor was it the emotional, exhaustion-fueled tempest that had erupted the day of Mabry’s accident. This was the pure, unvarnished mating of two souls with like wants, like desires, absolutely intent on letting things progress as they would. No more caution flags, no more wondering what he meant, or she wanted. This felt like ... well, like a proper beginning.

“One of these days, I’m going to kiss you somewhere private,” he said, as he finally lifted his head.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “Promises, promises.”

When he realized the double entendre, he laughed and this time he kissed her hard and fast. “Yes, well,” he said, dropping another kiss on the corner of her mouth, then moving along her chin, then nipping the curve of her neck. “That, too.”

She shivered in utter delight. “It’s good to have goals,” she said, then let out a little squeal of laughter when he scooped her up as if planning to carry her off right then and there. “I’m sure you’ve something important you should be doing,” she said, giggling and swatting at his shoulders.

He let her feet slide back to the floor, but held her against him a moment longer. “I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather be doing at the moment. Well ... maybe one thing.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said, playing prim to his bold, then giggling when he just winked. “Perhaps a nice meal, a little conversation, a dance or two. I’ve been wanting to try Bo’s. Bailey keeps raving about the breakfasts she and Sawyer have there.”

His grin went from bold to full-on Viking. “Breakfast it is then.” He started to scoop her up again, but she laughed and batted his shoulders.

“Quite sure of yourself, aren’t you then?” she teased. “I’ll have you know I’m not a breakfast-on-the-first-date kind of girl, Mr. Brogan.”

“I’m not sure of much,” he told her, still smiling, but with a serious note in his gaze as well. “But I’m certain I’ll be wanting to share as many meals with you as you’ll allow me to.”

Her heart simply melted. Every time she thought he’d tease her, he’d go the other way and say something unbearably sweet. “Why don’t we begin with dinner. Tomorrow evening, perhaps?” she asked. “If Bo’s suits you, that would serve the purpose of putting the town on notice that we’ve succumbed to their demands and have forced ourselves to pursue this romance they all seem so certain we should be having.”

“Well, when you put it like that, how’s a bloke to resist?”

She reached up on her toes and brushed a kiss against his mouth. “It’s a date, then.” She smiled up into his face. “I rather like the man bun on you, by the way.”

She was charmed further when she saw a bit of heat climb into his cheeks. Surely, given his looks, and his stature, he’d had women tossing much more lascivious comments his way. It made teasing him that much more fun. “Although, to be honest, it makes me want to reach up and yank it all down again.”

He reached out and tugged at the end of one of the braided ponytails she’d taken to wearing back when she was out in his barn every day. “Well,” he said, the corner of his mouth curved in a wry grin, “if dinner goes well, maybe we’ll both let our hair down. I’ll do yours if you’ll do mine.” He gave an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle that made her laugh all over again.

A buzzing sound went off in his pocket and he abruptly pulled his cell phone out, then swore under his breath. He punched the button to answer it. “Mr. Denton, I’m sorry. I got unavoidably detained. A friend in need. I’m on my way. I appreciate your patience.” He hung up. “Meeting with my potential distributor. I was on my way there when the whole Will thing blew up.”

“Go, go,” she urged him. “We’ll talk later.”

Nodding, he pocketed his phone and started for the door. “Sorry to ravish you and run,” he said with a grin and a wink, then crossed the room right back to her, framed her face in his broad hands, and kissed her so tenderly, it made her eyes sting. He made her feel desirable just by looking at her. This, however, was what she thought it might feel like to be loved.

“Thank you for being the brave one,” he said, looking down into her eyes. “I’ll try to live up to your example from now on.” He flashed a smile. “But feel free to give me a swift kick if I don’t.” He was gone before she could reply.

* * *

Pippa had been pacing the main room of her cabin for so long she was surprised she hadn’t worn a track in it. It would be easy to be all unicorns and moonbeams over the new turn of events between her and Seth, and to be truthful, she was tempted to smile like a loon, dance a little jig, and revel in the thrill of it all. She wanted to endlessly replay every touch, every kiss, every word, to the exclusion of all else. At least until it was time to see him again, and add new memories to the loop.

And she’d done that pretty much nonstop since she’d left the mill the day before. But now it was a brand-new day, and her thoughts were once again on Jake, and on Will. The excitement, the anticipation, along with the attendant nervousness she felt about seeing Seth again that evening for their first real date, was outweighed at the moment by her concern for a sweet boy and his anguished father. She wanted to do something to help, but everything she came up with held the risk of doing more harm than good. Based on what Will had said, it seemed to her that she had been a large part of the catalyst that had sent him barging into that music room.

She kept replaying that emotion-choked confession he’d started to make, and was fairly sure what he’d meant was that she, Pippa MacMillan, sounded, to him, a lot like his late wife. It had been wrenching to hear that note of raw pain in his voice, and know there was nothing she could do to change the memories her singing apparently brought to the surface.

And yet, on the other hand, Jake had told her that Will listened to her music, that her songs, her fiddle playing, were the only folk music he listened to. She realized now why he did so, but it begged the question, why would Will bludgeon himself like that? And that spurred her to wonder, if she could be the catalyst for painful memories, then couldn’t she also potentially be the catalyst for helping Will get himself to a place where he could begin to deal with the tragic loss he’d suffered?

Pippa couldn’t imagine that if Will was thinking clearly, he’d want to block his son from pursuing a connection to his late mum. That said, she felt awful that she’d somehow been complicit in helping Jake do an end run around his father’s wishes. She should have noticed something wasn’t right, but she’d been so busy trying to sort out how to get Jake the lessons he needed, without having to explain why she wasn’t willing to instruct him herself, she’d chalked up his nerves to the kind you get anytime you try something new. So, that much was on her.

“If you only knew,” she muttered, as Seth’s words echoed through her mind yet again. She’d put herself out there first, said the words first, and it had been terrifying, yes, but at the same time, not. The kiss they’d shared on the steps of her cabin had certainly gone a very long way to putting to rest any remaining questions she had. So she wasn’t sure how brave she’d been, really. But he thought she had been, which meant he might not have been able to make the same leap, had it been left solely up to him.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as the lightbulb moment came to her. By putting herself out there first, she’d helped Seth to get to the place he already wanted to be. Maybe she could find a way to do the same for Will. “But how?” she murmured.

She continued her pacing. Surely Will didn’t want to be conflicted and raw over his wife’s passing for the rest of his life. It had already been a long time, perhaps a decade or more, because Jake was thirteen and had been so young at the time he couldn’t recall his mum at all. And in all that time, Will truly hadn’t moved on. And as she knew all too well, the deeper you went down that well of fear and despair, the harder and harder it became to climb back out of it. But he would want to, wouldn’t he, if he could find a way?

She stopped and sank down on the couch. “Maybe he’ll never do it for himself,” she murmured. So, who else does he care about more than himself? “Jake,” she whispered.

If Will was going to heal himself for his own well-being, he would have done so by now. When Jake was little, Will could control the narrative for his son, too, keep his pain tucked away, unaddressed. “But now Jake is a young man, and he’s only going to grow more independent,” Pippa pondered out loud. She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her curled fingers, then closed her eyes and tried to think. What would open Will’s eyes so he could see that his son needs his father more than his father needs to cling to his pain?

Her eyes blinked open. She simply didn’t know.

She flopped back on the couch and blew out a long breath. Maybe it wasn’t her problem to solve. “And maybe you need to let Will’s problem go and work on solving your own.” Was that what she was doing? Focusing on Will’s problem, and Jake’s problem, so she could put off dealing with her own? “Probably,” she said dryly, then grabbed a pillow and put it over her face, wanting to vent her frustration into it with a nice, healthy scream. And not daring. She slapped the pillow down in her lap. “Exactly. Who’s the coward now?”

She sat forward on the couch, clutching the pillow against her stomach, her mind racing as the solution started to tumble into place. Her smile came slowly, and was in no way confidant; in fact there was a growing knot in her stomach that wasn’t so much excitement as a big ball of dread. The only way for her to help Jake was to put herself in Will’s shoes. To ask no more of him than she was willing to ask of herself.

Yes, that’s it. That is exactly it! That she finally had a solution, one that would help both her and Will, made her grin. It also made her want to throw up.

* * *

A half hour later Pippa was at the hospital, sitting by Mabry’s bedside. He and Addie Pearl had been in Blue Hollow Falls longer than anyone she personally knew. Addie Pearl was next on her list.

“Aren’t you a pretty sight for sore eyes,” Mabry told her when she’d entered the room moments ago.

Pippa had taken a seat in the chair next to the bed, and scooted it a bit closer when Mabry held out his hand to her. She held it between her own, surprised to find it warm and strong, and not cold and frail, as its pale, bony appearance had led her to think it would be.

Mabry squeezed her fingers. “How are things up at the farm?” he asked her. “Maggie won’t tell me the truth, of course. She’s afraid the stress of any bad news will slow down my recovery.”

Pippa smiled. “To hear the nurses tell it, they’re having to strap you to this bed to keep you from trying to do too much, too soon.”

Mabry made a sour face. “These dang fool bed exercises—horizontal physical therapy, they call it or some such—aren’t getting me on my feet again.”

“You have to let things heal before you start dancing a jig,” she told him.

“My bones are past eight decades old; how long could they take to heal? Can’t be much left to them at this point.” He held out his arms. “Dang hospital food has whittled me down to nothing, so it’s not like they have to support much.”

Pippa tried not to laugh at that. Mabry did look pale, and much older than he had before the accident. He definitely was thinner, too. But his old eyes were on fire as he spoke, his voice was back to being steady, and his mind was as sharp as ever, which counted for far more in her book. “As I understand it, the nurses have confiscated more contraband food from this room than any other on this floor.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Pretty much every one of those occasions has happened right after the twins come to visit. What a coincidence.” She smiled. “There’s talk of strip searches the next time they arrive. Does their mum know about this?”

“It turns out their mother, my sainted only daughter, has been turned to the dark side by those same nurses,” he grumbled. “Co-conspirators, all. My grandsons are my only hope at this point.”

Pippa did laugh then. “And here I thought you were the favorite patient here,” she said.

“Yes, well, I think I’ve long since worn out my welcome. You’d think they’d conspire to get me out of this joint, not keep me in.”

“I think that’s the end goal for everyone,” Pippa said, gently squeezing the back of his hand. “We all want to see you back on the farm, but the best thing is to do what they say, so you get the full benefit of the recovery. Rushing any part of it might compromise you down the road.”

Mabry let out a dry cackle at that. “I don’t think I’ve much road left to travel, if you get my meaning. I’m wasting a good chunk of it stuck in this bed.”

Pippa just squeezed his hand again and smiled. “Well, if being ornery will get you anywhere, I’d say you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

That had him lifting his eyebrows and letting out a raspy hoot. “I’d forgotten why I like you so much. Now I recall.”

Pippa laughed. “Good to hear.”

“So perhaps those memories I’ve been having about you badgering me, none too politely I might add, while I had a jack shaft sticking out of my leg, weren’t hallucinations either?”

Pippa’s eyes widened at that, and her cheeks might have gone a bit pink.

“Quite the little bully,” he said, then slipped his hand from hers, laid it on top of her fingers, and squeezed with more strength than she’d believed he had. “Thank you,” he told her. “I should have said it sooner. But what you and Seth did for me saved my life.”

Her eyes went misty and her throat tightened as she tried not to recall the specifics of that day. “I just did what anyone would do,” she told him. Then, seeking to lighten the mood, she wiggled her eyebrows. “Besides, I really needed that truck. How would it look if I just drove off in it and left you pinned there?”

He chuckled at that, delighted, then squeezed her hands again before letting them go. “Can you help with my pillows?”

She jumped up and did as he asked and Mabry shifted to sit up straighter.

“So,” he said, as soon as he was settled and she was seated back in her chair. “Seeing as we’re being blunt, have you and Seth managed to figure out what the rest of us who aren’t blind saw from the day you two met?”

Now it was her turn to look surprised and let out a choked laugh. “We’re . . . making inroads in that direction.”

Mabry looked pleasantly surprised, but was shaking his head at the same time. “Inroads? What in the blazes does that mean? Is that the younger generation’s way of saying you’re dating?”

“We’re having dinner this evening, in fact,” Pippa said.

“Have you come to me for dating advice, then?”

She grinned. “What’ve you got?”

“Well,” he said, considering, “I’ve only got one thing to give you on that, but it’s the only thing you need to worry about.”

Pippa leaned closer, truly curious to hear what he had to say. “And what would that be?”

“Be honest about the important things, kind about the hard things, and whatever you do, don’t give worry a leg up.”

“Are we talking dating, or—”

“We’re talking life,” Mabry said.

Pippa nodded. “Okay. What do you mean, ‘don’t give worry a leg up’?”

“Worry gives you nothing, it only takes, and what does it take? It takes the most precious thing you have. Time.” Mabry reached for her hand again, and this time he held hers between his own. “Don’t waste time, Pippa. You young people think you have endless amounts of it, but none of us do. I had more than sixty years with my sweet Annie, and it wasn’t long enough.” He shook her hand slightly, and held her gaze. “Don’t give your time away to worry. Go after life. You hear?”

Pippa hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been that. She felt her eyes water for what seemed the hundredth time that day. This time in gratitude. “I won’t,” she said, her throat full once more.

Mabry nodded, but didn’t let go of her hand. His gaze turned shrewd and he leaned forward a bit when he added, “Will you promise this old man something else?”

Pippa nodded and blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “If I can.”

“Apply that bit of advice to every part of your life. Do you understand my meaning?”

Pippa swallowed past the lump in her throat, feeling more foolish—and more indebted—than possibly at any other time in her life. “I will do my best,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Mabry held her gaze another long moment, then rested his head back on his pillows. “I plan to be around awhile, so I’ll be keeping track,” he said. “Don’t disappoint me.”

She laughed at that, and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “That’s all the motivation I need.”

“Good.” He folded his hands on his lap. “Now, since I’m stuck here with nothing better to do than fill in those endless word-search books and harass the hired help, all while suffering the indignity of allowing other folks to do the work I was put on this earth to accomplish, what other problems of yours can I fix?”

Pippa perched her hip on the side of his bed. “Actually, I was hoping you could give me some help with another situation.” She grinned. “Now that you’ve gotten my life sorted out.”

Mabry lifted his hand, gesturing her to go on, but there was a twinkle in his eyes now.

“It’s actually rather serious,” she said. “I’ve made a muck of things. Not on purpose, mind you, but I want to set things right. It’s about Wilson McCall, and his son, Jake. Do you know them?”

Mabry frowned. “I do. Wilson has helped me on more occasions than I can count. Mason by profession now, former military man, as was my brother. I’ve yet to find a thing Wilson can’t mend. Jack-of-all-trades, I suppose you’d say. Fine fiddle player, I hear, too, once upon a time, though you’d never know it.”

Pippa brightened. “So, it’s common knowledge then, that he played at one time?”

“I don’t know how common it is, but I know it’s true. His mother, Dorothy, grew up here, you see. Everyone called her Dot. She was a bitty thing. She was Dorothy Lankford back then. My Annie and Addison Pearl were both childhood friends of hers, though they were in different grades in school. Not many kids in the Falls back then, so they were close, despite the age difference.”

“That much hasn’t changed,” Pippa told him, charmed by the discovery. “Will’s son, Jake, has become very good friends with Sawyer Hartwell’s stepsister, Bailey Sutton. They’re a few years apart, but they’re two peas in a pod.”

Mabry nodded, looking pleased by that. “Well, Dot met Jack McCall in college, married him and followed him around the globe for years. Military wife. Never met the man, but have heard only good things. They just had the one child, Wilson. Used to come visit Dot’s folks in the summer when he was little. Dot, Annie, and Addison kept in touch, though. Wrote letters, sent postcards. Addison Pearl was most responsible for keeping that going, I think. Dot was gone a long time, but she was always Blue Hollow Falls family, you know.”

“I do,” Pippa said softly. “Where I grew up, it’s much the same way. It’s good she always had friends back home.”

Mabry nodded, then sighed, some of the twinkle fading from his eyes. “Jack—Wilson’s father—was killed in combat. Wilson was serving by then, too, I think, but I’m not sure. Dot came back home after Jack died, lived out the rest of her life here. Will married, had Jacob.” Mabry smiled. “Named after his grandfather. Jack was a Jacob, too.” He chuckled. “Dot would go on and on about her only grandchild. Passed photos to anyone who’d look at them.” He sobered then. “Then Wilson’s wife passed. Dot went off for a while to help with the funeral and such, help out with Jacob. When it was said and done, Will was still serving his country, so she brought Jacob here, where she could look after him. He was just a little thing back then, barely out of the crib as I recall.” Mabry sighed and shook his head. “No shortage of tragedy in that family, I suppose.”

“What happened?” Pippa asked. “To Wilson’s wife. If you don’t mind telling me.” She didn’t want to drag Mabry through sad memories, but thought it might help her understand Will better.

“Car accident. Drunk driver.” Mabry shook his head. “Annie knew more about it all than I did. Addison Pearl would, too. And her memory is better.”

Pippa smiled briefly. “I don’t know, you seem to be doing pretty well. I appreciate your sharing this with me. I didn’t mean to dredge up sad memories. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. Can you tell me anything else about her? Will’s wife, I mean.”

Mabry took in a slow breath and took a moment, searching his memory. “Well, though I never met her, word was that girl could sing like an angel.” He looked at Pippa. “Don’t know if she had any ambition to go and make something of it like you did.”

Pippa smiled when he sent her a meaningful look. “So, you’ve heard about that, have you?” Since Mabry had gone into the hospital the day after meeting her, Pippa hadn’t thought he’d have learned that bit of news. Maggie knew, though, so of course she’d probably mentioned it to him.

“Oh, there isn’t much I don’t hear about,” Mabry said, looking pleased.

“Will’s wife just sang locally, from what I know, but made a splash when she did. That’s what she was doing the night she died. Coming home from singing for some Christmas holiday program on base, I believe.”

“Oh, no!” Pippa gasped. “At the holidays? That’s awful.”

“Will was overseas, as I recall, stationed somewhere where families couldn’t go.” He shook his head. “Can’t imagine getting that kind of news at that time of year.”

Pippa shook her head, understanding more and more why Will had been so deeply affected by his loss. “Where was Jacob?”

“No idea. With a sitter, I’m guessing.”

Pippa nodded, feeling heartsick for Will, and for Jake.

“And you know the rest,” Mabry said. “Dot got sick a few years later. Jacob was in school by then, so five or six years later at least. It took a while, but that gave her and Will time to plan. It was sad, but merciful when her time came. Will got out of the service after that, moved here full time.”

“You’re right,” Pippa said quietly. “That’s a lot of grief and loss for one family.”

“Lot of love in that family, too,” Mabry countered. “All in how you want to look at it.”

Pippa looked up then, pulled from her thoughts. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Ask me, I’d much rather someone sum up my life by all the good there was in it, than the sad. Live long enough and loss is unavoidable. You can choose to mourn what you don’t have, or be thankful for what you did.”

Pippa sat back in her chair and let that sink in. Only she wasn’t thinking about Will and Jake. She was thinking about Seth, about the choice they’d just made to be thankful for what they might have. She hoped she’d be strong enough when the time came, to remain positive and thankful, after it was over.

She thought about her future, too, about her voice, and the choices she’d yet to make. Was that what she’d been doing all these months? Mourning what was gone? Instead of focusing on what she still had to be thankful for? She thought about what Mabry had told her earlier, about not giving valuable time away to something as fruitless as worry. She knew he was right, about all of it. You just have to find the strength to do it.

Pippa looked back at Mabry and saw that he was dozing. She hoped dredging up those memories hadn’t tired him out too much. She gathered her purse and stood, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered.

His eyes fluttered open briefly as she turned to leave. “Was that of any help?” he asked, sounding a big groggy now.

“More than you’ll ever know,” she told him with a warm, affectionate smile.

He nodded. “See?” he said, his eyes already drooping closed again. “More to put on that good list.”