Knight Music

by Darlene Franklin

  “Number-one bean counter, that’s me.” He shrugged. “It pays the bills.”

  Ty said the last with such wistfulness that she wondered what unexplored dreams lay in his past. “If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

  He arched his eyebrows at her. “You mean, besides sitting here in Limon, Colorado, with a lovely woman?”

  Heat stained her skin. “Yes.”

  “Oh, I have a few things on my bucket list. Hike the Appalachian Trail. Climb Mount Everest—or at least Mount McKinley. Play at Carnegie Hall.” He hesitated. “But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?”

  “What’s your calling, for lack of a better word? Music?”

  Ty blew out his cheeks. “No.” He drew out the word. “In spite of what I said about Carnegie Hall. I love music, but I don’t want to live in that world.” He leaned against the corner of the bench. “I think I might have done well on a plantation, or maybe as a squire taking care of his tenants. Not that I know the first thing about farming. I guess I’m out of luck.”

  Sonia gazed across the pond and thought about the fields they had passed on their way to Limon. “Perhaps you could plant a garden at the castle. It’s a start, in any case.”

  “It’s the wrong season of the year for that.”

  She waved away his excuse. “You know, plant bulbs for next spring, prepare the grounds for the winter. There must be something that you can do to get your hands in the dirt.” She reached down and scooped a handful. “Something elemental about getting your hands dirty.”

  Something flickered in Ty’s eyes before disappearing. “I’ll look into it.”

  ❧

  “I’m glad you’re coming over to the castle for dinner today.” Ty walked with Sonia from their Sunday school room. “Nel would be dreadfully disappointed without guests.”

  “Does she always eat in the dining hall?” Sonia shuddered at the thought of eating all her meals in the large room hung with tapestries suggestive of the family’s medieval origins.

  Ty laughed. “No, when it’s just the two of us, we eat in the kitchen. But she loves to serve elaborate dinners.”

  Sonia spared one last thought to the leftover spicy stew she had intended for lunch today, but gave way graciously. “I wonder if she gets lonely rattling around in that place by herself. I bet she’s glad to have you there.”

  They parted ways, with Ty headed for the choir. After their special, he climbed the stairs to the sound booth. The congregation sang “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee,” which she thought was written by some well-known composer. She checked—Beethoven, sure enough. Ty sang the bass line as if he had memorized it.

  When the pastor directed them to turn to the Gospel of John, she noticed Ty peeked at the index. Who didn’t know how to find the book of John in the Bible? Someone who didn’t do much Bible reading, that’s who. She turned her attention to the monitor in front of her, making sure she kept the points of the pastor’s sermon in sync as he moved through the passage of scripture.

  Stop it, she scolded herself. What better place for someone who didn’t know God’s Word than church? To expect anything else was like asking a man to become perfect before he became a Christian.

  Again, the question rose in her mind. Was Ty saved? Until she knew the answer, she had no business thinking about yesterday’s kiss as much as she had, no business at all.

  Pastor Perkins preached about the abundant life Christ came to give, contrasting it with the thief who stole away what was good and right about life. Abundant life made her think of the wetlands. Ty had given her much more than a day off; he had renewed her excitement. Her fingers itched to bring the wild elation and reclamation of beauty from ugliness that had transformed the former sewage pond to life on a canvas. Perhaps she had turned the corner from grieving the past to experiencing what lay ahead in her future.

  How could she return the favor? Bring the smile from his lips to the eyes that sometimes looked so sad? She saw him now, staring at a print of Sallman’s picture of Christ standing at the door and knocking, a wistful expression on his face.

  Then the sermon ended, and once downstairs, people greeted them as if they had known them forever.

  Hugh Classen, the high school art teacher, came up with Joe and Michelle. “It’s good to see you both active in the church already. I always like to jump right in.” He nodded at Michelle. “Like this one did, judging the pie contest at Odyssey Days her first weekend here.”

  “I’m still not so sure that was a good idea.” Michelle grunted, but Sonia could see the memory was a happy one. “I don’t think Esther has ever forgiven me.”

  “Nonsense.” Nel joined their circle. “You judged fairly, and Molly’s business received some well-deserved recognition.” She turned to Ty. “I thought the choir sounded well today. It’s always pleasant to hear men’s voices raised in song.”

  Ty bowed. “My pleasure, Aunt Nel.” He turned to Sonia. “May I give you a lift to the castle?”

  “We’ll meet you there.” Michelle didn’t wait for her response.

  “If you keep this up, people will say we’re a couple.” Sonia hovered between jest and serious complaint.

  He opened his eyes wide. “Would that be so terrible? No, I just wanted to show you something. Come on.” He cocked his head in the direction of the doors, and she followed him to the spot where he had parked his Camry at the far end of the parking lot. “I thought about taking one of those convenient visitor spots near the door but decided a member of the choir might not qualify as a visitor.” He smiled.

  “My doctor tells me to park as far as possible from the doors and make myself exercise.”

  “Then we’ll both be really healthy.” When they reached his car, he popped open the trunk. “Take a look.”

  She noticed several gardening implements: a rake, a bag of bulbs, a spade, as well as several other things. “What’s all of this for?”

  “I took your advice to get my hands dirty and see how I like working in the soil. And there’ll be plenty of leaves to rake before long, I’m sure.” He took a shiny spade in his hand and turned it over. “Besides, Aunt Nel could use the help. I want to earn my keep.”

  Sonia clapped her hands together. “I’m so pleased. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. It might even help when you’re thinking through things. I know housekeeping does that for me.”

  He closed the trunk and opened the door for her. “What does your schedule look like this week?”

  She buckled her seat belt and flexed her fingers. “I can’t wait to work on what I brought home yesterday. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Excellent. It sounds like we both found some inspiration on our date.”

  The word closed Sonia’s mouth. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of the trip to Limon as a date, although what other word applied? She nodded. Admit it, it was a date, and they’d had fun. Before she thought further about it, she invited him to join her on her trip to Denver later that week.

  “Sure. I’d like that.” He grinned. “Tomorrow? Tuesday?’

  “Not so fast. Tomorrow is my day off, and I have my first master’s class on Tuesday night. How about Wednesday morning?”

  “It’s a date.”

  ❧

  Coming to Denver with Sonia was either a smart move or a big mistake. Ty couldn’t decide which. Sonia relaxed as she drove, her hand resting on the steering wheel, guiding her car through the maze of Denver traffic that seemed heavy after his few weeks in Ulysses. Stop worrying. He planned to enjoy the next few hours.

  “I can’t stay all day, but I wondered if you would like to toddle around downtown for an hour or two. Say, the Colorado History Museum—or the Denver Art Museum?”

  “Sure, since this looks like it’s going to be my last day of freedom for a while.”

  “Don’t tell me. You got a job.”

  “I’m filling in for Barb—the same one you’re pinch-hitting for at church—until she comes back from maternity leave.
Payroll and general accounting. It’s not much, but it should tide me over until I figure out my future.”

  “Wonderful! God is opening doors for both of us. It’s exciting to know God directs our lives, even the bad times.” She thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “But I confess it’s easier when I can see it happening.”

  He made a noncommittal grunt. God again.

  “And there’s my exit.” She turned off the highway and headed downtown, parking beneath a building called the Denver Pavilions. He noticed a gigantic bookstore and a number of smaller stores and restaurants, as well as a movie theater.

  They stopped by the bookstore to get the parking ticket validated. “If I start mooning over the Monet prints for more than five minutes, promise you’ll drag me away.”

  Ty studied the portraits of Walt Whitman, William Shakespeare, and Willa Cather that adorned the walls. “As long as you promise to tear me away from the music.”

  In the end, they dallied long enough to enjoy a cappuccino in the bookstore’s café before purchasing the latest book by Debbie Macomber for Sonia and a Clive Cussler action yarn for Ty. “Cussler lives in Denver. Did you know that?” Sonia asked.

  “Can’t say that I did.”

  Ty opened the door when they exited the bookstore. “Which way to the art museum?”

  “A couple of blocks in that direction.” She nodded away from the 16th Street Mall that ran like a ribbon through downtown Denver.

  “Lead onward.” The sky overhead sparkled a clear blue with a few puffy clouds over the mountaintops he could see when he faced west. He hadn’t known what fall in Colorado might entail—he had heard tales of days when he might experience all four seasons in twenty-four hours—but so far September had been a pleasant surprise. The temperatures did dip into jacket weather at night. Often the temperature swung forty degrees in a single day. Natural beauty, temperate climate, pleasant people—Colorado might not be such a bad place to call home, not at all.

  He almost changed his mind when a yellow broom and blue dustpan—as tall as a building—came into view. “What on earth is that?”

  Sonia’s lips curved in a smile but then she straightened them. In a serious voice, she said, “That is the ‘Big Sweep,’ created by Van Bruggen and Oldenburg. They say it was inspired by the way the winds meet the mountains in Denver.”

  “Hah.” He let the word express his derision. “It looks more like Jack and the Beanstalk’s giant decided to do some housecleaning.”

  She giggled. “The museum is straight ahead.”

  As they passed through the turnstiles into the museum, Ty spotted someone who seemed familiar, but out of context and unexpected. The man saw him at the same time. The man’s steps faltered for a moment, and then he increased his speed and headed toward the exits.

  “Something the matter?” Sonia looked up from the museum map.

  Ty shook off the feeling of unease. “I saw someone who looked familiar.” He forced a laugh. “But I’m not likely to run into someone I know in downtown Denver, of all places. It must be someone’s doppelgänger.”

  “Stranger things have happened. Where is he?” Sonia glanced around the lobby as if she could identify Ty’s elusive acquaintance.

  “Whoever it was, he’s gone.” Ty glanced over his shoulder one last time and then made himself study the museum map for inspiration. “I’d like to see the Indian art exhibits. We don’t get much Navajo and Hopi art back in Virginia.” His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it.

  “And I’d like to check out the special exhibit. But I don’t think we have time to do both. I’ll go upstairs with you.”

  Ty’s phone vibrated again. “No, you stay down here and enjoy the traveling exhibit. It might not be here when you get back. I’ll go upstairs for a look-see and join you in the cafeteria in, say, forty-five minutes?” He edged his way toward the elevators. The last thing he saw as the doors closed was Sonia’s questioning face.

  Six

  “When can we talk?” Kirby Kent’s voice came through loud and clear. “I’m getting anxious, sitting on the merchandise.”

  “I told you. I’ll call you when everything’s in place,” Bruce Wayne said.

  “I gotta tell you, I have some customers primed to buy.” Bruce heard papers rustling in the background. “Good money.”

  Bruce pushed aside the feeling of panic. “You’ve been paid for the work you did. The merchandise belongs to me.”

  “I’m just saying, if you’re not ready to move on it sometime soon, a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”

  “Don’t do anything foolish until I talk with you again. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

  “I’ll wait.” Kent waited a beat. “For now.”

  ❧

  That was strange. Sonia fought the urge to follow Ty into the elevator. He acted like he didn’t want her to accompany him upstairs. But his suggestion would allow her to check the traveling exhibit. When it didn’t hold her interest, she slipped into the cafeteria early.

  The high prices must help underwrite museum expenses, she decided as she studied the menu. Still, due to the exorbitant prices, she ordered only a plain coffee while she waited for Ty. She could join him at the Navajo exhibit, but his behavior had troubled her, and she wanted to think about it before she saw him again.

  What did she really know about Ty Knight? Only what little he had told her. She flipped her phone open and logged onto the Internet. Googling “Ty Knight Virginia” spat back a variety of listings, everything from a Facebook page to community orchestra concerts to a business called Knight Industries where he worked as the chief financial officer.

  A headline reading Scandal Rocks Knight Industries caught her eye, and she clicked on the link. An audit had revealed funds missing from employee retirement accounts. She set down the coffee cup and drummed her fingers on the table. No accusations were made, but a statement released to the press stated that CFO Tynan Knight was taking a leave of absence from the family firm.

  “Is the coffee any good?”

  Ty’s voice interrupted her reverie, and she flipped the phone closed. “Not four dollars’ worth.” She gestured with the cup. “Did you enjoy the exhibit?”

  “I liked the sand painting. Don’t the shamans usually destroy them when they’re done?”

  Sonia nodded. “But from what I understand, the artist changed the design so that it’s not something used in one of their rituals.” She thought of her own prayer journal, filled with images meant for private communication between her and God. “I can appreciate their point of view. Some things should be private. Not that I believe in their religion.” As she said the words, she decided that if the man across from her wanted to keep his past private, she would allow him to do so. “So, shall we order lunch here or go somewhere where it won’t take a day’s work to pay for lunch?”

  ❧

  Later that afternoon Sonia stood in front of her easel. A drop cloth covered the canvas like an inactive computer, hiding the lack of progress. She glanced at the sketch on the table and took a deep breath. God, help me. If God’s image imprinted creativity on her, in recent days she wasn’t reflecting Him very well.

  Today she had determined to make a start. Something, anything—it didn’t have to be good. She only wanted to conquer her fear of the blank canvas.

  God had stared into the formless void and created an entire universe, and she took courage. She removed the covering and studied the canvas. Next she closed her eyes and envisioned the scene at the wetlands, cropping edges to the far end of the pond with a strip of sky on the horizon, focusing the lens of her memory on the intricate detail of two killdeers waiting side by side in the marsh grasses. She opened her eyes. The bright white surface blinked at her, threatening to erase the image from her mind.

  “Not this time.” She dipped her brush in the palest of golden oils and brushed broad swirls across the surface, creating a wash that would form the basis for the rest of the painting. Li
ght rolled and bounced and fed the beauty of the scene. She moved methodically from the top left-hand corner to the bottom right, like a reader committing a page to memory. Only when at last had she filled in the last tiny bit of space, where her name would appear, did she put down the brush.

  The light outside the studio blazed with the late afternoon sun. She stretched her arms over her head, working out the kinks. Someone knocked and turned the doorknob behind her. Joe entered. “Am I disturbing you?”

  “Is it that time of day already?” Sonia glanced at the clock. “I guess so. Come on in.” She rolled her shoulders and took a drink from a water bottle.

  Joe came around and looked at the canvas. He nodded, smiling, but didn’t make any comments. “Are you ready to call it a day?”

  Sonia glanced overhead. “The light’s almost gone. And I need to let this dry.” Reluctantly she put away her paints, hoping that inspiration would continue to carry her forward tomorrow. Putting on her jacket, she headed for the exit.

  Joe followed behind her, checking doors and setting the alarm. “It’s good to see you working.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  They paused on the back doorstep, where her car awaited. The parking ticket from the Denver garage was plastered to the front windshield, reminding her again of Ty’s unusual behavior at the museum. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “What?” Joe pulled the door shut behind them.

  “Do you know what happened with Ty in Virginia?”

  Joe checked the lock and shook his head. “All I know is that Uncle Thomas—Ty’s father—asked if he could come for a visit, and Mum said yes.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “You like Ty, don’t you?”

  Sonia turned aside to hide the heat rushing into her cheeks. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Ever since he’s arrived, he’s been a godsend for Mum. He’s doing all the things I never got around to. This week he’s preparing the gardens for winter. Makes me a little ashamed of myself, to be honest.”

  Sonia paused by the door to her car, fiddling with the bracelet that held her key ring. “Do you know if he’s a believer?”