Pippa smiled, thinking about the time they’d spent together the day before. Mabry was still living full-time in a rehab facility, but he’d made great strides, quite literally, in the past two weeks. He was on his feet, or able to be on his feet. There had been a lot of nerve damage due to the puncture wound and from the emergency surgeries as well, so the progress was slow, but he was getting ever closer to going home again. Yesterday they’d gotten him in the indoor pool for the first time as part of his physical therapy, trying to help him build up his leg muscles faster. “Water aerobics,” he’d told her over the phone in disgust, not at all happy with that turn of events. Especially when he found out he’d be the only man taking the class.
Pippa had teased him about being the most popular guy in the pool, but she knew he was self-conscious about having to be seen in swim trunks, not at his finest. He was embarrassed, though he’d never admit it.
So Pippa had gone online and found him one of those old-fashioned men’s bathing suits from the twenties, the kind that would cover his torso without impeding his leg movement too much; then she’d gone down and gotten in the pool with him. He’d initially been mortified at her seeing him like that, but she’d gotten him past it. Mostly. Enough that the therapist had invited her to come back two days from now, and though Mabry had poo-pooed the idea, she planned to be there.
She looked down at the music book and flipped over to another song she’d been working on, about an apple farm and the wisdom to be found in the trees. She hoped Mabry liked it. She planned to sing it for him someday. She’d settled the guitar on her lap and started to strum it again, when she heard the sound of gravel crunching in the driveway below.
She set the guitar aside and crawled off the bed to peek down from the dormer window. Every part of her filled with pleasure when she saw Seth climb out of his truck. She liked his hair wild and loose, but she had to admit, when he braided it snugly down the back of his head, like he had today, it did show off his angular cheekbones and jawline, and showcased those beautiful eyes of his, and the neatly trimmed beard would forever draw her eyes to his mouth. Oh, that lovely, lovely mouth, and all the pleasures it had brought her.
She was so caught up, it took her a second to realize that he was carrying a fistful of what looked like wildflowers in his hand, and her heart melted a little more. “Whatever is he up to?” she murmured, and climbed down from the loft. If he thought to distract her from her work with a little afternoon frolic, Well, he might just be successful, she thought, her body already perking up in happy anticipation.
When she opened the door, though, it wasn’t to the confident, flirtatious, gregarious man she’d come to know and love. Actually, he looked a bit pale. “Are you all right?” she asked, taking him by the wrist and gently tugging him inside. “Has something awful happened?” She took the flowers from him and laid them on the small dining table.
“Those are for you,” he told her.
“Aye, yes, and they’re lovely indeed. I’ll get them into some water in a moment. But first sit down before you go down in a dead faint.” Her brogue always got thicker when she was worried.
“I’m fine, really, I just—”
But she’d already nudged him back until he sat down on the small couch. She perched on the coffee table directly in front of him. “You’ve been working too hard and not getting enough sleep. Maybe I should sleep here a few nights a week.” She let go of his arm and leaned forward so she could feel his forehead. “You don’t feel warm, so that’s a good sign.”
He took her hand from where she’d pressed it to his cheek, then tugged her forward until she was in his lap. “I’m fine,” he told her gently.
She looked into his eyes. “What is it then? Not bad news?”
“I sure hope not,” he said under his breath, then took in a breath and let it out again, very slowly.
Looking worried still, she placed her palms on his big shoulders and put her nose to his. “Out with it.” She leaned back and folded her arms.
Finally, his grin surfaced, and he was back to looking a bit more like himself, despite the high color that had suddenly risen to his cheeks. “I realized on my way over here that perhaps I didn’t plan this out exactly the way I should have,” he said, “but I just want to go on record now as saying I didn’t see it going quite this way.”
“Didn’t see what going what way?”
“I don’t know why that surprises me,” he went on. “It’s not like we’ve done any other part of this relationship like normal people.”
“Like normal peop—” She broke off and her eyes went wide. She swiveled her head and looked at the flowers on the table, then back to his neatly showered, braided, and trimmed appearance, knowing that wasn’t at all how he’d normally look in the middle of a workday.
Then he unfolded her arms and took one of her hands in both of his, and her other one flew straight to her mouth. “You’re not,” she whispered behind her fingers.
His grin returned, broader now, and it seemed the more flustered she became, the calmer he got. He took her other hand from her mouth and held that one, too. “I know our time here, living like this, can’t last forever,” he began.
And instead of the rush of anticipation and disbelief that had filled her suddenly, she felt like someone had punched her directly in the chest. Wait. He wouldn’t have gotten all neatly pressed and picked her a fistful of posies if he’d planned to end things and send her on her merry way back to Ireland, would he? There wasn’t a cruel bone in Seth Brogan’s body, but then whatever—
He leaned forward and whispered, “It’s all good, relax.”
Her face crumpled into a smile then. No, he wasn’t cruel. He was perfect. “I love you,” she said on a shuddery breath as tears gathered once more. Of course they did. That was all she did these days. But there’d be no holding any of it back, not anymore.
His eyes went dark and hot and she immediately wanted to squirm. He squeezed her hands so tightly she had to wriggle them a little to get him to loosen his hold. And every part of his reaction had been better than the perfect response she’d hoped for.
“That’s . . . really good to hear,” he said, the words thick with emotion. “It’ll make this a little easier.”
“Go on,” she said, her breath catching, her thighs trembling a bit now as tears glittered on her eyelashes.
“You’ve found your music now, and your life isn’t here in the mountains. Or it wasn’t, before you met me.” He paused and held her gaze. “I want you to know, I would travel the world over for you. And I hope you’ll show me your Ireland. I hope to find my place there, in your life, and come to love it, like you’ve come to love my home.”
“Oh, Seth—”
“Seeing as I’m tied to this land that I love, to these mountains, and to the people who live here, I’m hoping we can find a way for you to fit here, as I’m willing to fit there. It might take me some time before I can push the work off here for someone else to handle for long stretches of time, but that’s one goal. I hope you can find a way to do the same. I have some ideas about that. Actually, Moira was the one with the ideas, but they’re pretty bloody brilliant ones, if you ask me, and I think maybe, since you’re already writing here and composing here, that they’ll work for you, too.”
She could hear the nervousness climbing back into his voice as he spoke, feel the hands covering hers growing a little damp, which was so beyond charming, she could barely stand it. And she understood now, how he’d grown stronger when she’d grown flustered, because she felt the same now, as his face got a little warmer. He’d always be strong for her, want to care for her, and she would always be and do the same for him.
“Seth,” she said again, her heart already in a puddle, and when she could see he wasn’t sure what she was going to say, that he was truly worried, she leaned forward, met his gaze with her own and whispered, “It’s all good, relax.”
He grinned then, a bit crookedly this time, and she watched as
his beautiful eyes grew a little glassy. Maybe it wasn’t her knees trembling, but his legs that were shaking a bit. More likely, it was both.
“I want to make this work,” he said. “And I’m willing to do whatever that will take. Because I love you, too, Pippa Mavreen MacMillan.”
How he knew her middle name, she had no idea, but her breath had caught in her throat now, because he’d finally said the words she’d wanted to hear him say to her for what felt like forever now.
“So I think, if we’re going to put in all the effort that it’s going to take to find a way to make our very different lives fit together, it would be best if we started out on that adventure truly united.” He let go of her hand and fished in the pocket of his pants, then came out with an old, worn, black velvet box.
And her hands flew right back to her mouth again.
“This is my great-grandmother’s ring,” he told her. “She lived to be one hundred and five and was married for more than seventy-five of those years. Would have been longer if my great-grandfather had lived as long as she did.”
“Oh, Seth,” she whispered shakily.
“She left this to me.” He grinned. “I always was her favorite.”
“Of course you were,” she said, her voice no more than a rasp, and they shared a short laugh.
His voice was shaky and the sheen in his eyes was brighter still. “I know she’d have loved you, and I know this would make her happy. But it will make me far happier still if you’d agree to be my wife.”
He opened the little box and the most impossibly tiny little ring sat wedged into the worn, yellowed satin. There was a small amethyst in the middle, set on either side by two delicate little diamonds.
“I know there’s not much to it in terms of size, but I thought it suited you. It needs a good cleaning,” he said, “and possibly a fitting, though your hands are small like hers were. We can change—”
“Not a single thing,” she breathed, then looked from the sweet, heartbreakingly delicate ring to the man who was going to be her husband. “It’s perfect,” she told him. “And I will wear it proudly, cherish it greatly, and hope I can come close, someday, to honoring the memory of the woman who first wore it. You’re going to have to tell me all about her.”
“Is that a yes, then?” he asked her, and she swore she could hear his thundering heartbeat echoing in the space between them, or perhaps that was her own.
“Aye,” she said softly, “that’s a yes, then.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and he slid her fully into his embrace. “That’s a forever yes.”
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 fi
sh 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.”
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