She stopped talking then and just looked at Will. When he realized she was waiting for him to say something, he said, “I . . . appreciate your being so forthcoming with me.” He sounded sincere, and there was a surprising thickness underlying his words. He paused and cleared his throat. “I can relate, as I suspect you’re aware, to some of the issues you’re going through, only mine weren’t so much physical.”
It was all Pippa could do not to get up and hug the man. He looked genuinely miserable now, and she felt awful for pushing his own memories on him by talking about hers. But she let him take his time to find his words, as he’d done for her.
“I guess what I’m not sure about, is what, exactly, you’re asking of me.”
“For me? Nothing. You’ve made your choices, about your gifts, both in playing and in making your instruments, and those choices are only yours to make. If you’re at peace with them, then that’s all that matters.” She took a slow breath, and forged her way into the hardest part. “How you reacted to Jake borrowing your fiddle—and you know him, so you know he’d never harm it—suggests you’re not really at peace with any of it. And maybe peace is too big a thing to ask for, given the losses you’ve suffered. That is something I have no experience with, so I would never presume to say I understand, or know how you feel, or even what I’d do in your shoes, because I don’t know.”
“Pray to God you never do,” he said quietly, perhaps a bit forcefully, but not angrily. And her heart broke even more for him.
“So, I’m here not so much with a request, but an offer,” she said. “If I could ask for anything, I’d ask that you consider—just consider—going on this path with me. Me to get back to composing and singing, you to playing. Maybe creating.” She lifted a hand to stall his immediate response. “I said if I could ask anything. It’s my wish, that’s all. I thought it might make it easier, or at least be helpful, to both of us, to have the support of someone who is also facing such a monumental task, trying to get back a part of themselves they thought was forever lost, or forever closed off. Maybe we could do it together.”
She’d been looking at her lap, at the fingers she was twisting together, subconsciously rubbing at the spots that used to have calluses. She looked up at him now, not expectantly—she didn’t think she’d get an answer—but just to connect with him.
He didn’t say anything at all, and eventually ducked his chin and broke eye contact.
She let out a shaky sigh. I laid my heart down on the table. I can’t do more for him, or myself, than that. “Thank you for listening,” she said. “For agreeing to meet with me.”
He nodded, but didn’t look up as yet. She had no idea what was going through his mind, but his shoulders weren’t so rigidly set now. She suspected he was just trying to hold himself together.
She stood up, knowing she’d intruded enough. She turned toward the door to the kitchen, then stopped and looked back. “I might not have been entirely truthful about one thing.”
He looked up, his expression as bleak as she’d ever seen on anyone, save herself, and it was like a sucker punch to the gut.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words out because she couldn’t not say them. “I am.”
He nodded, then took a breath. “What untruthful thing?” he asked, and his voice was like gravel now.
“I do have one request. It’s a big ask, but it is one I truly hope you’ll consider.”
“What, you want to use my fiddle for your big comeback?”
She started, and her mouth dropped open, she was so surprised that that was the mental leap he’d made.
“I appreciate what you’re doing. I don’t know why you’re doing it, but I know you’re sincere,” he said. “But the way to get to me will not be through that fiddle. That I can guarantee.”
“I appreciate that. I wasn’t . . . trying to be tricky. I’m a direct person. I think we can both agree on that.” He nodded and she went on. “I wasn’t asking for the fiddle. Not because I wouldn’t be honored to play it. But this isn’t about getting to you. I’ve said all I can say on that.”
That seemed to surprise him.
“I have my own fiddle,” she told him. “One I’ve played since I was a little girl. It’s special to me, as I know you can well imagine. If—when—I get back up on stage and sing again, she’ll be with me.”
He nodded, as if he did indeed understand that much. A frown furrowed his brows. “Then what is the ‘big ask’?”
“You’ve made your choice, about creating instruments, about not playing anymore.” She softened her voice. “Shouldn’t Jake get to make his own choices, too?” She immediately put her hand up to stall his response. “I’m not asking for him to get to play your fiddle, either. I would never do that. Just as I’d hope no one would ever assume I’d lend mine out.” She held his gaze. “Even to someone I love very much.” She worked up a smile, a gentle one. “Jake wants to play. Or he wants to learn to play. I don’t know if this is because he wants to connect to you or his family history. Or if he simply has that desire in him, like you did, like I do. Like his mum did.”
“What are you asking?” Will said, jaw flexed again, but his tone was surprisingly quiet.
“Just that you give him permission to learn. I’ll teach him, if you’d rather Drake didn’t, but we’re both willing. I wasn’t planning on charging him anything, because the selfish side of this is it would help me, too. I enjoy spending time with your son.” She smiled. “He’s a wonderful young man with a great big heart. I can’t think of anyone I’d be happier to have along on my journey back into music.” Her voice got softer still. “Save maybe his dad.” She took a shaky breath. “I guess I’m hoping that maybe by teaching him, I’ll find my way back to it in a way that’s not so . . . terrifying.” She let her smile grow. “One squeaky note at a time.”
Will stood up. “Miss MacMillan—”
“Pippa,” she said, and hurried on before he could end the conversation. “I have it worked out so he doesn’t have to play here, if that’s a concern.” She hitched her purse strap over her shoulder and smoothed her damp palms over her hips. “Jake knows nothing about this,” she told Will. “And I won’t ever say a word unless you give your permission.” She held his gaze more steadily now, pushing for Jake’s sake, if she couldn’t push for Will’s. “I don’t go around tooting my own horn, but if it helps to sway your thinking, your son has the chance to learn how to play the fiddle from one of the better fiddle players in the world. I’ll provide the fiddle and the place for him to learn and play. All you need to do is give him your permission. Your blessing, too, if you find it in your heart. He’s growing up, Mr. McCall, and I think his thirst is real. I know, and you know, how that feels. If he thought you supported him—”
“He’s never once told me,” Will said, somewhat abruptly. “That he wants to learn.”
Surprised by the sudden comment, Pippa looked down for a moment, then back up to him. “I think it’s possible he didn’t think you’d take it well?” She dared to let a hint of a smile curve her lips.
Will closed his eyes at that, but perhaps the tiniest flicker of a smile twitched the corners of his mouth, rueful though it might have been. Then he ducked his chin and shook his head. She thought she might have heard him swear under his breath. She waited for him to look up again and extended her hand.
“I’m really glad we had the chance to meet and talk. I wish things were different, because I’d be all over you about that fiddle Jake brought with him the other day. You do gorgeous work, Mr. McCall. And I’d love to hear you play someday.”
“Will,” he said, a bit gruffly. “And thank you. That part of my life is over, but ... I’ll give some thought to your request.” He looked directly at her then. “I know it wasn’t easy, doing what you did here today. I appreciate it, for my sake and for Jake’s. It was kind of you, as well as generous. And I’m not sure I deserved your kindness, much less your generosity, after the way I behaved the other day.”
>
Pippa had to work to keep her mouth from dropping open at the utter sincerity in his quietly spoken words. The anger was gone now, replaced by resignation, but also by an attempt to make things if not right, at least better. This was the Will McCall she’d been hoping to meet, the one everyone had been telling her about.
He took her hand and shook it, then held on a moment longer. “I don’t know how I feel about Jake playing. It’s mixed up with ... a lot of other stuff. And I won’t lie to you, either. I really wish he wanted to do anything but that.” He let her hand go. “It’s an honor, what you’ve proposed, and I’m grateful. I just . . .” He looked away then, and she could see this was a torment for him, wanting to do what was right for Jake but trying not to torture himself more in the process.
“I do understand that. That’s why I said it was a big ask.” She smiled. “I surely won’t think less of you if you say no.”
He surprised her further by chuckling at that. “I’m not sure you could think any less of me at this point.”
“That’s where you’d be wrong,” she told him. “You’ve served your country, you’ve been a loving husband, and you’ve raised a wonderful young man. I couldn’t hold you in higher regard.” On impulse, she reached up on her toes and shocked them both by giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “And you like my music,” she added with a grin. “So how bad could you be?”
She dashed at the corners of her eyes, thinking one of these days she really had to stop being so leaky, and left the porch, walking through the house and out to the front steps. She turned when she was on the stone pathway, heading to her truck, to find Will standing on the top step of the porch. She lifted her hand in a wave, and felt a sense of relief and rightness when he lifted his in a brief reply. It wasn’t a yes, but she believed he would think about it, and that was more than she’d dared hope for when she pulled up.
She strapped herself in and turned the key, then patted the dashboard. “Well, Bluebell, we’re one step closer than we were before.” She smiled and pulled out of the drive.
Chapter Sixteen
Seth looked up from his monitor when Pippa came walking into the stone barn. He checked the time on the screen, then looked back at her. “That didn’t take too long.” He tried to gauge the success of her mission by the look on her face, but she was already striding over to give Dex some love and check in on Elliott.
He hadn’t seen her since they’d gone their separate ways after dinner at Addie’s the night before, but they’d talked that morning before she left to go talk to Will. He got up and crossed the open area of the barn.
“How did it go?”
Pippa straightened from leaning over the stall gate, cooing to Elliott and laughing as he butted his head against her hand, and turned to Seth, her expression serious now. “I’m not sure. We sat out on his back porch, with that amazing view, and talked. Well, I talked. A lot. But I think he listened.” She looked up at him. “Actually, I know he did. He seems like a very kind and thoughtful man. I finally got to see that side of him, before I left.”
“He’s one of the most solid men I know. I’d trust him with my life.”
Pippa nodded. “It’s just so sad and awful, that he’s never gotten over losing his wife,” she said quietly. “I wanted to hug him.”
Seth wanted to pull her into his arms, hug her, comfort her, then remembered he didn’t have to resist that urge any longer. “Come here,” he murmured.
She went immediately into his arms, wrapped hers around his waist, and pressed her cheek against his chest. He wrapped her up closer and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. She felt good in his arms. Perfect, actually. “So, I’m guessing it was a no-go on getting him to agree to work with you on the two of you getting your music back?”
“Aye. He was pretty clear about that,” she said, disappointed.
“Do you think he’ll let Jake take lessons?”
“I honestly don’t know,” she said, then lifted her head to look up at him. “I hope so.” She leaned up then and kissed him.
She lowered her heels, but he lifted them right up again, and kissed her slowly and with great attention to detail. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both a little breathless. “Hi,” he told her, smiling.
“Hi, yourself,” she replied, and her eyes were somehow both bright with happiness and dark with desire. “Have I told you, you’re good at this whole not-pretending-anymore thing?”
He grinned. “I have to keep reminding myself I don’t have to.”
She raised her eyebrows at that. “We should probably get more practice then, until it becomes second nature.”
“Have I mentioned I’m a fan of these plans you come up with?”
She shook her head, all innocence, then batted her lashes for good measure. “How big a fan are we talking?”
If he pulled her any closer against him, she’d feel just how big, but that might be a little too much, too soon. “Your biggest,” he said, and instead made a gesture to the difference in their heights, making her giggle.
“So, why did you ask me to come up?” she asked him. “I could have told you how the meeting with Will went over the phone. I know you have a lot to do. Did you see the distributor finally?” she asked. “How did it go?”
“Yes, I saw Denton, and it went very well. Looks like we have a deal.”
“That’s fantastic.” She beamed and gently tugged the bottom of his beard so he’d lower his mouth to hers again, making him chuckle just before taking her mouth in a decidedly no-holds-barred kiss.
“Well then,” she said, quite breathlessly this time when they broke apart. “I’d say practicing is definitely the way to go. You’re making swift improvements on that second-nature thing.”
He grinned. “Full disclosure, I asked you up here mainly because we can’t do that over the phone.” He slipped her arms over his shoulders. “But also because we haven’t had the chance to spend much time alone together.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Have I mentioned how big a fan I am of your plans?”
He chuckled again. “Why, ma’am, I’m not sure what you’re suggesting. I just wanted to go for a little walk. Maybe have some lunch, if you’ve the time.”
She looked surprised and charmed. “Truly? What a lovely idea.”
Seth had been thinking a lot about what Mabry had said to him, about living life. Seth’s to-do list that day was longer than his arm, and both legs, for that matter. But every day was pretty much that way. And it wasn’t like the workload was going to lessen once the winery was actually, well, a winery. If he was going to have a life beyond being a vintner, then now was the time to start establishing a few ground rules and carve out some time for something other than vine and livestock tending. Now that he had a reason for wanting some time.
“I can help with the goats or the sheep later when Bailey gets here.” She smiled. “Assuming my barn privileges have been reinstated now.”
“Bailey won’t be here until tomorrow. But yes, you’re officially welcome to invade any and all parts of my world.”
She batted her eyelashes again at that, and his body reacted like she’d stripped naked. Yeah, you might want to pace yourself there, big guy.
“I can keep busy if you need to finish up,” she said, nodding toward his makeshift office. “It’s a bit early for lunch anyway.”
In response, Seth slid her arms from his shoulders and slipped his fingers through one of her hands. “That’s why I thought we’d walk first. Build up our appetite.”
The irises in her eyes bloomed wide at that, and he realized maybe he wasn’t the only one who needed to rein it in. Which helped his efforts not at all. He slipped his hand free and tucked her arm through his, leading her out the back of the barn toward the vines. Before they both ended up sprawled in the sawdust, ripping each other’s clothes off. “Shall we?” he said with a short bow.
“I believe we shall,” she said, and he finally got his curtsy.
He could ha
ve sworn she was gazing at him a bit meaningfully, but that could just be wishful thinking. “This way, then.”
The unusually high temperatures had returned that morning. The sun climbed slowly in a cloudless sky the same color as the periwinkles that grew alongside the stone path leading away from the barn. He led Pippa toward the rows of vines, thinking if only Sawyer could see him now, and grinned. He knew his best friend hadn’t meant for Seth to take his words so literally, but the image had struck him, and stayed with him. Besides, he wanted to share this part of himself with her.
“Not exactly a walk in the park,” he said, his hand laced with hers now. “But I thought you might enjoy seeing what I do up close.”
“Very much so.” She glanced up at him, her cheeks a bit pink. “Although I do have a confession to make.”
“Do you?” he asked, grinning at the naughty smile that curved her lips. “Please, tell.”
“You recall when you were trying really, really hard to be anywhere but in sight of me?”
He winced. “In my defense, well, I had no defenses around you.”
“So, purely self-defense then,” she teased.
“Purely,” he said, glancing down at her, noting the merriment in her eyes. “And what a waste of time that was.”
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