Epilogue
Pippa cleared her throat and leaned closer to the mike. “Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight.” She looked out across the sea of smiling faces that had crowded into Sawyer’s pub. The whole mill was jammed full as well, as were the grounds outside, where people were enjoying the warm, late July evening. They’d be able to see and hear her, thanks to the big screens and speakers that Seth and Sawyer had set up both inside and outside the mill, with the help of her crew.
She knew it felt like a big crowd to them, but to her, it was intimate and personal. Just how she wanted it. She knew every single face she could see.
Everyone in Blue Hollow Falls was present. Except for Mabry, though Maggie and her husband were there. The twins were with Mabry, helping to live stream the event for him, via their parents. Pippa hoped he could hear her okay, as she planned to debut his song that night.
“Now, we’re going to be recording this,” she told everyone, “so you have to be on your best behavior.”
There were some hoots and hollers, including some from Drake and several of her own bandmates, who were seated on stage with her. “I can see already that I’m going to need to hire a really good sound editor,” she said, and the audience chuckled. “As you all know, I’ve said yes to this handsome bloke when he asked for my hand.” She wiggled her hand with the engagement ring, which had, of course, fit her perfectly. Fate was like that, she believed. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and she looked down at Seth, who winked at her while accepting hearty pats on the back. “I think we might need to expand the space for our wedding reception,” she told him, and the resounding roar from both inside and outside the mill fair to shook the walls.
“But tonight,” she said, when they’d settled back down, “it’s about the music. The songs you’ll be hearing were inspired by these beautiful mountains you live in, and by some of you personally as well. So many of you have become good friends, and all of you have welcomed me with open arms, and open minds”—she glanced to Seth once more—“and some of the most amazing wine I’ve ever tasted.”
A mix of laughter and cheers filled the air and she paused to sip from the water bottle she’d set on her stool. She took a deep breath then and let the tension release from her neck, then across her shoulders, and on down her spine. She felt ... good. Better than good. She felt bloody brilliant. All the familiar vibes were rushing through her, the energy was amazing, and she knew from their rehearsals that the music was going to be fantastic. She wanted to hold on to this feeling forever—she was so grateful that she was having the chance to feel it again.
She didn’t have to belt it to the rafters tonight, or go on jamming for hours. Here, all she had to do was sit on her stool, pull the microphone close, let the music come, and enjoy the ride. Here, in Blue Hollow Falls, she was safe.
She introduced her three bandmates one by one, then thanked Drake and the two other local musicians who were also onstage, who’d be sitting in with them that night. When the cheers and whistling died down, she turned back to the crowd. “I have someone else who’ll be joining us tonight. This is his first time performing in public, so give him a warm welcome. Come on out here, Jake. Jacob McCall, everyone.”
There was a moment of silence and maybe a gasp or two, and folks craned their necks, looking around. She knew they were looking for Will. Then Jake stepped up on the back of the stage, squinting at the bright lights, and gave his bow and a little wave. The thunderous applause, she knew, was for him, and it was for his father.
Pippa knew that Will was back in Sawyer’s office, where he could watch the whole thing on Sawyer’s computer monitor, and hear it live perfectly well, given he was only a dozen or so yards away. Will had told her that he hadn’t wanted to take anything away from Jake’s debut. And Pippa knew he simply wasn’t up to being among people, especially people he knew, when he heard Jake play for the first time.
Will had come to her about a week after Seth had proposed, well over a month since they’d first talked. They’d sat on the tiny porch in front of her cabin, and Will had told her he wanted Jake to have the chance to pursue playing the fiddle if he truly wanted to. He’d also informed her he’d be paying her for the lessons, and wouldn’t take a no on that.
Pippa had been perfectly fine with all of that. In fact, she’d been downright thrilled.
Will had gone on to tell her he’d be keeping the fiddle he’d made for his wife, explaining it had been designed for a woman’s hand, and he’d rather Jake begin with an instrument that he could continue playing as he got older, if he was so inclined.
Pippa hadn’t been sure if that was his real reason, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t anyone’s business but Will’s what he did with that fiddle. He’d also asked Pippa if she or Drake could take Jake down to Turtle Springs and help him pick out a secondhand fiddle and bow from the music store down there. If music turned out to be something Jake was good at, Will would see that he got a better one eventually.
That was when Pippa realized that while Will was giving his okay, he was still far from comfortable with any part of this. It was only his love for his son that was making him step outside the walls he’d built around himself, around his heart. She admired him greatly for that, and felt only sorrow that he couldn’t find a way out from under his past pain for himself.
As it turned out, Jake was his father’s son. He’d taken to the fiddle like a fish to water. She knew everyone would be astounded by his performance tonight. What they didn’t know, what even Will didn’t know, was that Jake was his mother’s son as well.
Other than herself, only Will, Seth, Drake, and Bailey had known anything about Jake’s lessons. Well, and Addie Pearl, because Pippa had learned early on she knew pretty much everything that was worth knowing. Jake had been the one to request their keeping quiet about his lessons. If it turned out it wasn’t for him, or he just wasn’t any good at it, he didn’t want the added pressure of the whole town knowing about it. Jake had already put enough pressure on himself, because he knew his father wasn’t thrilled that Jake was playing, and Jake didn’t want to let him down.
Still unwilling to give up on the father, Pippa said a silent prayer that when Will heard his son play, maybe, just maybe, it would unlock something inside of him, and set some part of him free.
Pippa smiled at Jake and he smiled back, looking a bit more comfortable up there already. She leaned closer to the mike and addressed the crowd. “Before we dive in, I have one last little announcement. I’ll be using some of tonight’s performances, along with others I’ll be recording out at our new little studio, out at Bluestone & Vine, for my next album. We’ll be releasing it sometime around the end of this year, hopefully by the holidays, if everything goes well. I’ll be calling it The Sessions at Blue Hollow Falls.” The crowd erupted in whoops, hollers, stamping feet, and hands drumming on tables, so loudly this time she thought the place might vibrate right to the ground.
Pippa finally made a motion with her hands to quiet the crowd, and they did. Mostly. The murmur of conversation through the crowd would not be silenced. “One last thing, I promise,” she said with a smile. “I wanted to add that what you all are doing here at the mill—the artists, the musicians, the painters, the weavers, the woodworkers, every last one of you—is keeping alive traditions and skills that might otherwise be lost. Being from Ireland, where we have one or two of those, I know a little about how special that is. I can’t tell you how much I admire all of you for what you’re building here.”
Spontaneous applause broke out again, and she took another sip of water. “To that end,” she said, “I’ll be donating the proceeds of The Sessions at Blue Hollow Falls to the guild, for the purpose of creating a music venue here, expanding on what you’ve started with your love of music here at Sawyer’s place, and hopefully bringing your music, and your passion, to any and everyone who wants to come to Blue Hollow Falls and fall in love.” She looked at Seth and smiled. “Like I have.”
If she’d thought the place couldn’t get any louder, she was wrong. She laughed and covered her ears as the thundering response went on for many long minutes. Finally, Drake did a loud whistle, and slowly the room, then the rest of the building, settled down.
“Okay then,” she said. “Let’s play some music.” She turned to pick up her fiddle, and noticed it wasn’t resting by her stool where she’d put it. She looked at Drake, then at her bandmates. Drake nodded toward Jake. A hush fell over the room as Jake stepped off the stage, then climbed back on again.
Pippa knew immediately what he had in his hands. “Oh, Jake—” she began, shocked that he’d do something like this, on tonight of all nights.
Jake smiled and handed her a small folded card. “It’s okay. This is from my dad,” he told her, his voice getting picked up by the mike. “And so is this.” And he handed Pippa the case she knew held his mother’s beautiful fiddle.
Pippa immediately covered her suddenly full throat with her hand, her eyes too blurry to read the words on the card. A moment later, Seth was up on stage beside her, his hand on her back. She covered the mic. “Did you know about this?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“No,” he told her, then slipped the card from her hand and read it to her, and only to her. “‘As I said to you before, this was made for a woman’s hand. And you were right, it was meant to be played. I know your fiddle is special, too, but even if just for one song, Zoey would have been so honored to know her fiddle was being played by you. I admire you, Pippa, and your music, but even more, thank you for being the friend my son needed, when he most needed one. Blessings to you, and play her well. Wilson.’”
“Oh boy,” Pippa said, then fanned her face. Drake stepped over and handed her a napkin so she could dab at her eyes. “How on earth can I sing now?” she said, laughing and sniffling at the same time.
“Like you’ve never sung before,” Seth said, and kissed her, making the crowd erupt in cheers all over again. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear. “Go knock ’em dead.”
Pippa nodded, then tugged Seth back as another thought struck her. “Could you go back and slip a note under Sawyer’s office door—don’t bother Will—but let Will know I want to see him after the show, please? Or whenever he’s up to seeing me? I can’t not thank him for this. Thank you,” she whispered when he nodded and gave her a wink. She reached up, tugged his beard down, and kissed him hard and fast on the mouth.
The crowd broke into hoots and whistles. Grinning, Seth waved to them as he hopped down from the stage.
Pippa opened the case and took out the fiddle. It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship, and Pippa was both humbled and more than a little thrilled that she was going to have the chance to be the one to make her sing.
“It’s all tuned, just like yours,” Jake told her nervously. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding?” she told him. Then she dragged his stool next to hers. “Come on up here.” She settled on her stool, and waited for him to settle on his. She leaned over and whispered to him the name of the song she wanted to play, then turned around and told her band as well. She propped the fiddle on her shoulder and picked up her bow, then looked to Jake, who did the same.
Then she looked at the audience, and at Seth, and she leaned forward, as if she was going to tell them all a secret ... and she sang.
* * *
Back in Sawyer’s office, Will watched on the monitor as Pippa played Zoey’s fiddle as if she’d been born with it in her hands. No one could have honored it, or the memory of his wife, any better. He watched his son play and didn’t even recognize the young man he’d become. Will sat, stunned, at just how good Jake truly was, and felt a rush of shame that he’d ever considered keeping his child from following his dreams, just to hide from his own pain.
Then Pippa rested her bow and leaned into the mike to sing. Her voice was so different now, haunting and rich. She didn’t sound like Zoey anymore, which should have relieved him, but instead, it caught at his gut. As if, somehow, that last tenuous connection he’d had was gone forever.
Then Jake lowered his bow and leaned into the same mike alongside Pippa and shocked Will into utter stillness as his son opened his mouth ... and sang. There Zoey was, only this time, it was an actual flesh-and-blood, living, breathing part of her, singing with a voice so clear, so true, Will felt something break apart inside of him.
And while their bows danced across the strings, and they sang a duet about apples in springtime and the wisdom of the trees, Will laid his head on his arms and did something he hadn’t been able to do since the night his wife died. He cried. Shuddering, wracking, soul-rending sobs. And as he let out eleven long years of pain and anguish and bone-deep loneliness, he could have sworn he felt her hands on his shoulders, and her voice whispering in his ear what she always said when he told her he loved her: “I love you to the moon, my fiddle-playing man, and I always will.”