Making Magic: Books of the Kindling, Book 3

by Donna June Cooper

  “Hello?”

  Emmy’s head jerked around and she almost fell over. Luckily, she was holding onto a table.

  “Hi!” Thea said with a smile.

  Emmy’s eyes were all for Bailey. Her face lit up.

  “This is Bailey.” The dog’s tail started twitching as the teen moved toward them, a lopsided smile on her face.

  Emmy stuck out her hand to stroke the dog’s head, then looked at Thea for approval.

  “Go ahead. She’s a friendly girl,” Thea reassured her.

  “Hey, B-Bail-ley,” Emmy said carefully, touching her head.

  “Is your mom around? Or Aaron?”

  The brown curls shook jerkily. “I c-can h-help you,” Emmy said slowly.

  Aaron must’ve slipped out the back door after his outburst.

  “I’m returning eight honey pots from the wedding,” Thea explained, holding up the bag. “I’ll set them beside the register and you guys can credit Mel’s account.”

  Emmy nodded.

  “And I wanted to ask Aaron, but maybe you know, does he play any other musical instruments? I mean besides the ocarinas?”

  She shook her head. “Wants g-guit-tar.”

  Thea smiled. “What about you? Do you want to play anything else?”

  Emmy struggled for a moment. “T-too hard.”

  “You keep on trying. You never know,” Thea replied. “We’ll see what we can do to make it easier.”

  Cool fingers brushed against her arm. “Th-thanks,” Emmy said.

  “Tell your mom I came by and I’ll be back,” she said.

  Emmy nodded and, with one last awkward ruffle of Bailey’s head, returned to the back room.

  As Thea watched her halting walk, she thought she might risk going to HeartWood to get a dulcitar and music for Aaron after all. Jake might have something in the store Emmy could enjoy. If she could deal with Marilyn and her delusions…

  But they weren’t really delusions, were they? It might not be evil, but there was something overwhelming and extraordinary happening on the mountain. Something that no one could see except…

  The thought stopped her at the doorway. Grace was a healer. A real healer.

  Grace could heal Emmy.

  But if she did, people would definitely notice. Grace would be exposed to that scrutiny that they were all worried about.

  Damn.

  She couldn’t make a big difference, as she had hoped to with Hartford, but she could make this small one. Maybe Pops’s foundation could help Emmy and her family. Grace and Nick hadn’t had time to fill her in on the foundation’s objectives—or anything about it really, except that they needed an attorney. But perhaps helping people like Emmy would fit in somewhere.

  She had to do something to fix the damage that had been done to this lovely girl and so many others. Like Becca. Thea had wasted so many years of her life trying to do it from the inside, to topple the gigantic beast, that she’d lost sight of the people she’d been trying to help.

  As she opened the front door of the shop, she heard ocarina music from the back room and Emmy’s voice raised again in protest. Before she could go back to see what was wrong, another voice surprised her from the sidewalk.

  “There’s my gorgeous Southern girl, looking all rested and relaxed.”

  It couldn’t be. She spun around to find Greg Whitehead standing on the sidewalk, smiling. He quirked an eyebrow when he spotted Bailey in her arms. Bailey returned the favor with a low growl.

  Terrific.

  “Terrific!” The last member of the band had finally texted a response about inviting Thea to play with them tomorrow. All systems go. He could head up the mountain to ask her and find out what this Gregory guy was to her at the same time.

  Not that he cared. The guy got on his nerves was all.

  Besides, no one like that could possibly have caught Thea’s eye. There was something off about him.

  Jake shook his head, picked up his hammers and started playing “Tripping Up the Stairs”. The sprightly Irish jig would confirm that this last dulcimer was in tune and would stay that way.

  “What exactly is that kind of music?” came a voice from down the sidewalk. The door was still propped open to lure customers into the store.

  Jake frowned. Even the guy’s voice grated on his ears. Gregory talked like he was perpetually looking down his nose.

  “That particular tune is an Irish jig,” came Thea’s reply.

  “I thought everyone up here played country music…or dueled with banjos.”

  Thea’s melodic laugh sounded a bit forced. Maybe the guy got on her nerves, too.

  “Irish and Scottish ballads and folk tunes were the beginning of modern country music,” Thea said. She walked into the shop wearing those tight jeans and another one of those clingy tops, this time in red, with Bailey tucked into her arms. “Some of those songs were preserved in their original form up here in the mountains and forgotten completely back in the old country.”

  Jake finished the song with a flourish as Gregory followed Thea inside. She actually did pop in every time she was in town. And damn, she looked good.

  “You tracked her down, I see,” Jake said.

  “Oh. You two have met already?” Thea said, surprised.

  “Navigating Woodruff Mountain gave your friend here a bit of trouble,” Jake said. “He dropped in for some directions.”

  Thea turned to Gregory and Jake wasn’t surprised to see her chin thrust out. “You went up the mountain? You know where my family lives?”

  Gregory looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. “Your family lives on the Main Line in Philadelphia.”

  Thea’s eyes narrowed. “I meant the rest of my family.”

  Well this was interesting.

  “I made a study of your father’s history before I joined the company,” Gregory said. “I like to know everything I can about anyone important to my life.” He smiled. “Like you.”

  If Jake was reading Thea’s expression right, the guy’s response didn’t sit well with her. Jake had a lot of practice reading that face. Given her temper, it had been necessary for survival.

  “What can I do for you two? Would you like something to drink? I’ve got some great local wine.” He gave Thea a knowing smile. “Or some of our local hard cider?”

  Gregory looked startled. “You have vineyards up here?”

  Jake grinned. “Amazing, ain’t it?” He leaned over conspiratorially. “Although I prefer moonshine myself. Goes great with my banjo.”

  “Oh, stop it, Jake,” Thea said. “There’s no moonshine around here anymore.”

  “We do close a still down now and again,” Jake said.

  Thea made a dismissive noise. “There are some wonderful wines up here.”

  “And Thea can vouch for the hard cider,” Jake added.

  She made a face at Jake, but switched back to a brilliant smile when Gregory looked at her.

  “I thought you hadn’t been down here to visit for years,” Gregory said. “Since you were a teenager?”

  “Oh, but up here in the mountains, our young’uns are weaned on hard cider,” Jake deadpanned with a heavy accent.

  “Jake’s pulling your leg,” Thea said quickly, scowling at Jake.

  Gregory frowned. “I see.”

  This guy was unbelievable.

  “You can let Bailey run around.” Jake was glad he remembered the dog’s name. “She can’t hurt this floor.”

  Thea sighed with relief as she put the little dog down, but hung on to her leash. “You be good, Bailey girl.”

  Bailey immediately sat next to Thea’s feet and glared up at Gregory. Smart dog. Good instincts.

  “What can I do for you, Thea?” Jake said.

  “I’d like to buy a dulcitar and some sheet music.” Thea looked ove
r at Gregory. “That’s all for now.”

  Well that was a surprise. Was she getting it for Jamie? Or some other young relative?

  “Sure. Is this for a beginner? Young person?”

  “Yes, about ten, I think.”

  “I’ve got a standard G. Not fancy. It’ll hold up to some rough treatment.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “I’ve never heard of a dulcitar. What is it?” Gregory asked.

  “It’s also called a ‘pickin’ stick’—sort of a beginner’s guitar,” Jake walked to the wall. “Only it’s got three strings and a real long neck. Has a real interesting sound.”

  “Do you have a case?” Thea interrupted before Jake could educate Gregory further.

  “It comes with basic instructions, a carrying case and some sheet music.” Jake unhooked one of the dulcitars and held it out to her. “I’m planning on making an instructional video at some point and putting it online. Eventually we’ll have DVDs for all of these.” He waved at all the instruments then pulled out a folded up black nylon case and stapled printout.

  Thea held the dulcitar carefully. “Perfect. It’s lovely.”

  “It’s got some Woodruff Mountain cherry in it.”

  “Really?” She held the instrument out to examine it in the light.

  “I think every instrument I’ve made recently has at least a bit of the mountain in it.”

  “Pops would love that.” She handed him back the dulcitar.

  “I’d like to think so.” Jake unfolded the case, slid the instrument and printout in and laid them on the counter.

  “You make these?” Gregory asked, looking at the wall full of instruments.

  “He makes them and plays them as well. He made that beauty.” Thea pointed to the hammered dulcimer.

  “It looks like the inside of a piano,” Gregory said.

  Jake scowled. How could someone look at all that gleaming wood and polished chrome and think it looked like the inside of a piano? “The piano is actually a descendant of the hammered dulcimer. Just add a keyboard.”

  Gregory examined the dulcimer with renewed interest. “So, a primitive ancestor, then?”

  Sheesh.

  Thea walked over to examine it closer with Bailey in pursuit. “It’s almost too gorgeous to play, or even touch.”

  “Would be more of a crime not to play her,” Jake said. “A lot of hours went into that.”

  “And a lot of love.” Thea touched one of the tuning pins and ran her finger lightly up the strings.

  Jake could almost feel that caress. “It’ll be hard to sell them, especially this one.”

  “It’s beautiful. I love the handwork on the rosettes.” Thea reached a finger through the strings to touch the sound hole. “It makes them so much more unique than the laser-cut ones. I see you still carve musical notes on everything.”

  Thea’s fingers on the design felt strangely intimate, even with Gregory looking on.

  Jake’s voice came out a bit hoarse. “Yeah. I think there’s some magic in this one.” Thea’s eyes widened a bit as they met his.

  After a moment, Jake saw Gregory watching them in rigid silence, his mouth a flat line.

  “I made Thea’s first flute, a whistle really, out of cherry wood from Woodruff Mountain,” Jake explained. “Carved a musical note on it.”

  “I still have it,” Thea said, smiling.

  “A musical note was about the first thing I ever carved.”

  Thea’s hand went to her breastbone the same way it had in his workroom a couple of days ago.

  Jake saw the black silk cord that disappeared beneath her top and wondered. Was she wearing it now? He stared at her fingers, but she bit her lip and dropped her hand back down.

  “Fascinating,” Gregory said, in a voice that didn’t sound fascinated at all.

  “Yeah, well.” Jake went to ring up the sale. “It’s way too easy to get swept up in everything else except the actual instrument making.”

  “Everything else?” Thea asked, following him to the register.

  Jake smiled when Bailey took a defensive position between Thea and Gregory.

  “Advertising, purchasing, bookkeeping—”

  “In other words, running a business,” Thea said.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a pain in the neck,” Jake said.

  “The sign of a real passion,” Thea replied as she handed over her credit card. “‘Profit be damned, I’m in this for love.’” She laughed, adding air quotes around the words.

  “No, that’s the sign of a real life,” he said without thinking.

  When he gave her the card back she looked sad somehow. Did she think he was criticizing the choices she’d made?

  Jake noticed Thea chewing on her bottom lip again, all too aware of her fingers brushing his as she took back the credit card

  Dammit, Thea. It’s already plump enough.

  Jake tried to get his libido under control. “To top it off, the band wants to record an album.”

  Thea seemed to collect herself. “Well I’m not surprised. You guys are really good.”

  “Which reminds me, we’d like you to play with us tomorrow.”

  For a moment, Thea’s eyes shone. He knew she was remembering the exhilaration of playing with a group. It must have been a long time.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Gregory looked at the dog as if he had smelled something unpleasant. Jake hoped she didn’t plan to leave Bailey alone with the guy.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “You aren’t leaving town tomorrow, are you?”

  Thea stiffened. The conflicted look on her face slid into something sad and resolute.

  Gregory seemed a bit too interested in her answer.

  “I—No, I have some things to finish up here.”

  “Think about it anyway. I can get you a copy of the playlist. We’d be glad to have you join us on any of the numbers.” Jake smiled. “You know all of ’em.”

  Thea signed the slip. “I’ll think about it.”

  He handed over the dulcitar in its case.

  “I meant to tell you. Your logo is perfect,” she said. “For the store and the group.”

  Jake grinned. That design—a string of polished musical notes emerging from a rough piece of wood to form the name of the store—was a particular source of pride.

  “When are you going to hang it up?”

  “I’m confused. I thought you were the sheriff around here or something,” Gregory said. “Why exactly are you working in a store?” He made the word sound distasteful.

  “He was shot in the line of duty,” Thea said. “And instead of simply taking it easy, he decided to pursue his dream.”

  Jake tried not to react as her chin went up like a weapon raised to defend his honor.

  “He’s going to renovate this store and build a wonderful deck out over the stream so people can perform here and sell their CDs,” she went on. “The local food vendors are going to love it. I’m sure it will be the place to go for music around here between the festivals.”

  Gregory looked a bit taken aback by the passion in her voice. So it seemed Thea had spent some time studying his sketches.

  Jake grinned. “My personal marketing department. Good thing she works pro bono.”

  That lovely face turned an interesting shade of pink as she slowly smiled and made a face at him.

  Like old times.

  “I hope you can at least come to our performance tomorrow. We’re on the main stage at one,” he said. “I’d like to do that Bach piece, if you’ll play.”

  Gregory reacted as if someone had pinched him. “Bach?”

  Both Jake and Thea turned to stare at him. “Yes, Bach,” they said, almost in unison, then burst out laughing.

  Jake went over to the player. “Wait
. I’ve got it cued up to play on the store system.”

  “You mean you play Johann Sebastian Bach?” Gregory nodded at the dulcimer. “On that?”

  “Jake plays it on that. I play the flute. It’s a sonata written for flute and harpsichord,” Thea said. “We’ve done other classical pieces too. This was just our best.”

  The introductory notes of “Bach’s ‘Sonata for Flute and Harpsichord in B Minor’” filled the store. They had recorded it up at the farm long ago after a practice session. Jake remembered that day vividly. The acoustics in the basement of the old house had been perfect. Becca had sat there with her fiddle and watched them, itching to play along. He could almost see her now.

  When he caught Thea’s eye, he knew she was remembering that day too. Her smile was tinged with sadness.

  Gregory looked astounded.

  The piece ended as Becca clapped and yelled, “That was unbelievable!” He turned off the recording a bit too late.

  Thea smiled and nodded. “It was.”

  “We surprised the festival crowd that year. I’d like to do it again,” Jake said.

  Thea’s smile faded a bit. “We’ll see.”

  “You were quite good,” Gregory said to Thea. “I had no idea you used to play the flute.”

  “She still plays the flute,” Jake said. “And she’s not quite good. She’s brilliant.”

  Thea’s mouth quirked. “Well Greg, I guess we better head up the mountain, since you came all this way to see where Marshall Woodruff was born and raised. Come on, Bailey girl.” She scooped up the dog.

  Greg’s lips compressed to a thin line. Jake could tell he didn’t like to be called Greg, but Thea did it anyway. Probably in retaliation for being called Althea, a name she had hated as long as Jake had known her. It looked like Thea might have this guy’s number after all.

  “I didn’t come for that,” Greg protested as they left. “I came to see you.”

  “If you follow that bright red car of Thea’s, you won’t get lost this time,” Jake said. He waited and, sure enough, Thea looked back and stuck out her tongue.

  Jake went out on the sidewalk to watch them leave. Thea pointed and Greg followed her gesture to see the BMW parked in the town parking lot. Greg pointed to a black SUV—a rental, no doubt—parked on the street.