She thought about the man, standing fully dressed in a hot, steam-filled shower, holding her close, yet giving her all the space she needed ... and how she knew without a single doubt in her heart that he’d stand there until the end of time if she needed him to.
The music found her then. And, with it, so did her song.
Chapter Eighteen
It was a moment he’d never forget for the rest of his days.
Four weeks had passed since he’d stepped, fully clothed, into that shower. May had come and almost gone, and with it the mountains were turning green and lush, and his vines were once again surging to life. It felt like a lifetime ago now, but he found himself thinking about it all the time. Four weeks since she’d sung those first shaky notes, her whole body trembling so hard he couldn’t soothe her. She’d sung so softly, he’d barely been able to hear her, but it hadn’t mattered. He’d been thankful for the shower spray hitting him square in the face. Then he could pretend it was shower water tracking down his cheeks from the corners of his eyes.
Seth walked the last row of vines, checking his cuts, looking at the new growth, but his thoughts stayed with that monumental moment. He found himself grinning, then chuckling as he remembered the instant he’d realized what it was she was singing. He’d begun chuckling then, too, and hadn’t been able to stop.
She’d lifted her head, standing there in his arms, for all the world like a wee drowned thing, water running all down her face, and stared at him in stunned shock. “Are you honestly laughing at me?” she’d demanded. “What happened to this being my safe space?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his hands around her fists before she could pummel him. “But are you singing ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’?”
“Well, you didn’t expect me to sing you an aria, did you now?”
He remembered he’d shaken his head. “No, why would I think that?” Then he’d leaned down and kissed her, and kept kissing her until she finally relented and leaned into him, kissing him back.
“You can sing me anything you like,” he’d said against her lips. “I’m quite partial to ‘The Hokey Pokey.’ Do you know it?”
And she’d looked up at him and said, “Is that the one where you put your right knee in?”
He was pretty sure she’d been the first one to snicker. But it might have been him. They’d both laughed, of that much he was certain. She’d pulled his head under the spray as payback, while fiendishly giggling, and he’d just opened his mouth to say the three words that had come to him so easily it was as if he’d been telling her he loved her for years. But the small propane tank heating the water had chosen that exact moment to bottom out, sending them both racing out from under the ice-cold spray and back into the house.
They’d gone up to the loft to find dry clothes and he’d apologized to her there, quite sincerely.
“It was the very first thing I learned to sing as a little girl,” she’d told him quite primly, in that way she had. “It seemed ... a fitting place to start.”
“It was perfect,” he’d told her, and meant it.
Seth grinned and he finished inspecting the last vine on the row, then walked around to the next and last row, feeling his body tighten all over again as he recalled how they hadn’t come back downstairs again until well after the moon had risen in the sky.
Fifteen minutes later and still smiling, Seth started up toward the stone barn, intent on stowing his tools and clipping bucket before heading down to the round barn to help Bailey. When he saw Jake walking along the stone path from the driveway, Seth stopped and lifted a hand in a wave to Will as he backed his truck around. Will lifted a hand briefly in return through the open window, but didn’t pause, and drove on back down the drive.
It was the first time Seth had seen Will since Pippa’s little talk. “I guess that’s a start,” Seth said under his breath, then turned to look at Jake. “Are you back?” he asked Jake as he got closer to the barn.
Jake nodded, looking sheepish. “I need to apologize to you,” he said. “I’m sorry I put you in that situation with my dad.”
“Jake—”
“I need to say it,” the boy told Seth. “And not because I have to. This is coming from me, not my dad.” He shuffled his feet, and Seth gave him the time to find his own words. “I shouldn’t have taken the fiddle,” he said. Then he looked up and met Seth’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have let you or Pippa think I had permission, either. I know it’s important to him. He made it for my mom.” Jake’s voice cracked on that last part and it made Seth’s heart hurt.
Seth wanted to tell Jake he didn’t need to say any more, but it wasn’t his place to tell the boy anything at that moment.
“He’d been teaching her to play. My gramma said she was really good at it, too. So Dad made her a fiddle for Christmas. But . . .”
“It’s okay, Jake,” Seth said gently, unable to bear letting the boy torture himself any further.
Jake’s eyes grew a little glassy, and his voice was more croak than not, when he added, “Gramma Dot told me he burned his own fiddle, right in our fireplace. After ... you know. I don’t blame him. I don’t. Not one bit. Gramma didn’t either. She just told me so I’d understand about ... everything. But Dad kept the one he made for Mom. Even though she never saw it. So, I know I shouldn’t have taken it. No one’s ever played it.” He dashed at his eyes again and cleared his throat, then straightened his shoulders. Seth could swear the kid had grown another two inches since he’d seen him last, or maybe now that he’d started the painful journey toward becoming a young man, he simply looked taller because of it.
“It’s just ... I’ve been thinking about her. My mom. A lot.”
“Do you and your dad talk about her?”
Jake shook his head. “Gramma did with me, all the time, so I know tons of stories about her. And we have loads of photo albums. Gramma made those, too. I hadn’t looked at them in a long time, not since before Gramma Dot passed. But I have been lately. I’m not sure why really. I don’t remember her, so it’s not like I miss her.” He sighed. “Bailey says I’m trying to figure out who I am. And I guess if anyone should know about that, it’s her.”
Seth nodded. “She’s a pretty wise young lady.”
“Right?” Jake said, sounding both impressed and annoyed, as only a teenager could, and they both laughed.
“I know it’s stupid,” Jake said. “And I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea, but I got to thinking that if I learned to play the fiddle, the fiddle he made, then maybe that would take away some of my dad’s . . . hurt, I guess? Like, I know I can’t replace my mom or anything, but I’m the one person left in the world that he loves as much as he’s ever loved anyone, so who else could do it but me? I just didn’t think it through.”
Seth had to curl his fingers inward to keep from hugging the kid tight. “Did you tell him that? What you just told me?”
Jake shook his head. “I’ve never in my whole life seen him that angry. Or angry at all. We’re okay now, him and me. He said he was sorry for coming in there like he did and I apologized for doing what I did.” Jake smiled then, and looked more the little boy he had been than the young man he was becoming. “I did my time, served my sentence,” he said, then lifted his shoulders. “And now, we’re back to where we were. I don’t want to mess that up.”
Seth took all that to mean that Will hadn’t said anything to Jake about Pippa’s offer. She’d be so disappointed, but Seth wasn’t really surprised.
“I’m sorry I left you without help,” Jake said. “My dad said I could come up every day for the next two weeks to make that up to you. I’d like to, if that’s okay.”
Seth nodded. “I’d be happy for the help. Bailey’s already down in the round barn. We’ve moved the goats down there so I can start the barn renovation.” He’d given the greenlight to the local contractor he’d hired to go ahead and start working on turning the barn into a tasting room, despite not having anything bottled as yet.
“Is Pippa up here?” Jake asked. “I mean Miss Pippa,” he corrected. “Except she calls me Master Jake when I call her that. Bailey said she’s spending more time up here now.” The blush that came into his cheeks and turned the tips of his ears bright red suggested Bailey had been a bit more blunt in her description of the new direction Seth’s relationship with Pippa had taken. But he appreciated the boy’s discretion in how he’d chosen to frame it. “I need to apologize to her, too. I know she and my dad have talked, but she still needs to hear it from me.”
Seth’s attention snagged on that last part. “Your dad told you about that?”
Jake nodded. “He told me she came over to talk to him and apologize, which she totally didn’t have to do. I mean, it wasn’t her fault. But I am glad they talked.” He looked down at the dirt he’d been scuffing into a little pile with his toe. “He doesn’t play her music anymore,” Jake said quietly. “And I’m sorry for that.” He looked up. “Don’t tell Pippa, okay? She—it would only hurt her feelings. It’s not about her, I’m sure. It’s just my dad.”
“I won’t say anything,” Seth promised him. “I’m glad they talked, too. Pippa likes your dad a great deal. She said it was a really good conversation. I don’t know why your dad may have decided not to listen to her music, but I’m pretty certain he and Pippa are just fine.”
Jake nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. “I asked him if he was nervous, meeting someone famous like her.” He let out a short laugh. “I remember how nervous I was. It feels stupid now, because, you know, she’s just Pippa. Like, it’s hard to believe she’s the other Pippa, you know?”
Seth nodded. “I do know,” he said, and tried to ignore the knot that tightened in his gut, as it always did when he thought about the other Pippa.
“Bailey also told me something else, but I’m not sure whether or not I’m supposed to say. I mean, Pippa didn’t tell her not to say and it’s not like you probably don’t already know, since you’re, you know ... together.” His cheeks flushed scarlet and he snapped his mouth shut.
“It’s okay, Jake,” Seth said, chuckling. “We are together, and it’s a really happy, good thing. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Maybe check with Bailey about the other thing, or better yet, Pippa, and make sure it’s okay to tell me.”
He nodded. “Will do. So, where is she?”
“She’s at the cabin,” he told Jake. “She’ll be here a little later, around three. She’s cooking supper. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like. Addie Pearl’s coming to get Bailey and they’re both staying to eat. Give your dad a shout. I’m sure it would be fine if he comes, too. Pippa always cooks like she’s cooking for a family of eight anyway. If your dad can’t make it, Addie Pearl or I can take you home after. We’ll get you back in time to finish your homework.”
“Already did it,” Jake said. “And that’d be great. I’ll text him and let you know.”
“Why don’t you head on down to the barn,” Seth told him. “We’ve had four goat babies in the past week, so I know Bailey’s got her hands full. The sheep are out, and Dex is with them, so no worries on that.”
Jake nodded and turned to head down the hill, then stopped and looked back at Seth. “How come Pippa’s at the cabin? I thought—Bailey said—I mean, I thought she was here now?”
Seth swallowed the urge to chuckle. The poor kid was going to turn permanently pink. “She is, but she kept the cabin, too.” He wanted to tell Jake that Pippa had kept the place as her private little music studio, but that was for Pippa alone to say. She’d explained to Seth that the small size, the comfort, and the joy she felt there, along with the complete and utter privacy it provided from everyone, himself included, made it the perfect spot to shut down her active brain and focus inward on her songwriting brain.
It made as much sense to him as it could to someone who didn’t write music and lyrics for a living. He was just happy to see her writing again, singing again. She didn’t sing much around him, though she swore to him it wasn’t because of what they now referred to as “the shower incident.” She was simply keeping it to herself, she’d said. “Getting reacquainted,” was how she’d described it. He understood that.
He’d overheard her singing along to the Disney tunes she always played when she was brushing Dex late at night, after Bailey had gone home, or playing with Elliott and the new baby goats. He often heard her in the outdoor shower when she got up at dawn along with him; and very occasionally, late at night, while in bed with him, she’d sing bits and pieces of new verses under her breath, revising them, trying out different emphasis or tones, while she thought he was asleep. He’d never heard her sing full out yet, only in moderation, but he suspected she’d need some time to get past the fear of really letting herself go.
And none of those things could Seth share with the young man standing in front of him. Seth was still the only one in Blue Hollow Falls who knew she was singing again.
Seth was grappling with what excuse to give Jake as to why Pippa had kept the cabin, when the boy said, “Oh, that’s cool. Well, when she gets here, let me know, okay?”
“Will do,” Seth said and watched Jake lope down the hill toward the round barn. He chuckled, thinking Bailey was right, adults really did make things so much more complicated sometimes than was necessary. “Most of the time, more like,” he said, and shaking his head, went on inside the stone barn. Seth had decided to keep his office out in the barn and was in the middle of revising the tasting-room floor plan to include a formal office space. He’d spent all morning the day before looking at the property, trying to decide if he wanted to plant more vines this season, or keep to his original plan. He’d started the rough outlines for repurposing another one of the outbuildings into a reception hall of sorts. Maybe he would go ahead and mow down the overgrowth around the small pond that was down past the round barn. Sarah Bianchi had pegged that as the perfect spot for wedding ceremonies. Adding a trellised arch, or a pergola. Seth thought she was probably spot-on with that.
He sat down behind his desk and chuckled. “And man, you’ve got weddings on the brain these days.” He turned on his computer and pulled up the tasting-room designs, but his thoughts were already wandering down the very familiar path he found himself working harder and harder to steer clear of. The thing was, his life felt like it had come full circle. Everything seemed pretty damn perfect. He was doing something he loved, he had a wonderful woman in his life. It made him feel happy and content, knowing Pippa was over at the cabin, pursuing her own passion.
Seth loved waking up with her, and looked forward to the end of each day now, too. It made him feel grounded, made life feel more balanced. They dined together every evening, taking turns cooking depending on who got done working first, cooking together when they could. He talked over his new plans for the winery with her, and she talked about the music she was discovering, and how it was taking a different turn now. Her voice was definitely smokier than it had been, which he knew, as he’d now listened to pretty much everything she’d ever recorded. She told him it still startled her when she opened her mouth and sang, but it sounded gloriously rich and full to him, which he’d told her countless times.
She’d told him her songwriting was changing too, and that didn’t surprise him. Given her injury, the surgery, and everything that had come after, it seemed natural that she’d have different stories she wanted to tell. She told him her time spent in Blue Hollow Falls, and her time with him, was influencing her songwriting, too. That made him happy, and though it was maybe kind of weird to imagine someone writing songs about him, he’d been flattered and more than a little abashed. H
e knew she was working hard to find a way to meld the songs in her head with the voice she now had, and he had every faith she’d not only find it, but her fans would be knocked out of their collective socks when they heard the result.
What they very carefully didn’t talk about was how they were going to manage his going after his dreams, getting the winery up and running, when she finally reached the point where it was time to get back into a studio and start recording again. She’d be going back to performing, touring, recording, and the myriad of other things that came with it, which he’d only had the barest whiff of as yet. He’d overheard her on the phone with her assistant, Julia, her manager, her agent, her record label, checking in with them, handling the business details of her life, which went on even when she wasn’t actively recording or setting up tour dates. It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that his Pippa was also that Pippa, even as he watched them finally become the same person, right there in front of him. When the two of them talked about any of that, though, or the future at all, it was always in the abstract, as if it was going to happen so far down the road, there was no need to figure it out now.
The other thing they didn’t talk about was love.
It had gotten so he silently said those words to her multiple times every day. And given the way she looked at him, the way they made love to each other, if she didn’t love him right back, she was doing a damn fine impression of someone who did.
But they didn’t talk about love. Not because they were afraid to say the words. Or he wasn’t, in any case. Hell, he wanted to hire a skywriter, and tell the whole world. But he didn’t say those words, and he was pretty sure she didn’t either, because then it would make everything they were doing all too real and not some dream-sequence timeout from reality. Which was ridiculous, and yet ... there it was.
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