by Jen Gilroy
Annie reached into the fridge for the lasagna she’d taken out of the freezer to thaw that morning. “After me, Nana Gerry was the first person to hold you on the day you were born.”
And she’d shared in the all-consuming, unconditional love for her baby daughter that had rolled over Annie like a tidal wave. A love that had washed away the past, blotted out regrets, and helped her look to the future with hope.
“When I make it big in the Nashville music scene, what if somebody finds out my middle name’s Geraldine?” Hannah sliced tomatoes into chunks.
“If you make it big in Nashville or anywhere else, nobody will care what your middle name is.” Annie slid the lasagna into the preheated oven. “But you have to make it through high school and college first.”
“You know I don’t want to go to college.” Hannah’s tone was sullen, and her mouth was set in a stubborn line. “You have to start young in music.”
Annie wiped her hands on a colorful kitchen towel to stop the trembling. “You’re a smart girl, and I want you to have something to fall back on. A college degree gives you options. You could study music education at college so you could teach alongside singing and writing your songs.” And she didn’t want her daughter’s life to turn out like hers had. Annie’s vision blurred as tears pricked behind her eyes. “What if music doesn’t work out? What will you do then?”
“It will work out.” Hannah dumped the lettuce and tomatoes into a glass salad bowl. “Lots of successful people didn’t go to college or else they dropped out. Besides, I’ve got the money I’ve saved up and Nana Gerry left me, and everybody says I’ve got talent.”
“You do, honey, but sometimes . . .” Annie hesitated. “There are lots of teens with talent. To make it in a place like Nashville or any big city, you also need hard work, resilience, and a lot of luck.”
Most of all, you needed to trust the right people and not give away parts of yourself you couldn’t get back.
“I have all those things.” Hannah opened a drawer in the oak sideboard and pulled out two red quilted placemats.
“If I’d had something to fall back on beyond a high school diploma, maybe I wouldn’t have had to work in the bakery.” Annie held up a hand to stop whatever Hannah was about to say. “Quinn’s is a good business, sure, and I like my job and working with my family, but I want more for you.”
“I could work in Jake’s radio station for a while. I worked there last summer. He said I have natural talent, remember?” Hannah dropped cutlery on the table with a clatter. In the cat basket below the window, Hazel, Annie’s elderly tabby, opened a sleepy eye and nudged Olivia, Hannah’s white and gray kitten.
Annie moved away from the oven and toward the cats. “You are talented, but it’s no longer Jake’s station, sweetie. We don’t know what the new owner plans to do with it.” Except, she’d seen the expression on Seth’s face when he’d talked about lining up a buyer. He didn’t understand that local radio was the lifeblood of a town like Irish Falls, and he didn’t realize how many people depended on it, far beyond those who worked there. Jake hadn’t only run a local business, the station helped support other local businesses too.
Her jaw got tight and she picked up a felt toy mouse from the floor beside the cat basket and tossed it for Olivia to chase. “There are other radio stations in bigger towns you could work for, but first, and if you don’t want to teach, you could study broadcasting or music production at college. Or musical theater, or music therapy even. You’ve always liked helping people. There are colleges right here in New York state that offer all those programs. And I’m sure Nana Gerry would have wanted you to use the money she left you to help with your education.”
“All Nana Gerry said in her will was that money would be mine when I turned eighteen.” Hannah’s voice was earnest. “I don’t want to spend another four years in school. I want to learn by doing. When I sing or write music, it’s like I’m who I was meant to be.” The setting sun that streamed through the kitchen window made a fiery halo around Hannah’s head as she grabbed paper napkins out of the holder. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Annie leaned against the kitchen island. The wall clock that had been in her family for several generations ticked in a steady rhythm with her thoughts. “You might not think so, but I do understand. I had a dream of making it as a singer once.” Except, sometimes, no matter how badly you want it to, your dream doesn’t come true. There were people who’d take your dream and make it their own. The same ones who’d use you and toss you aside like stale baking.
“But—”
“I’m not saying don’t go after your dream, but you also have to be practical. Don’t get so caught up in the dream that you forget about the rest of your life.” Annie made herself put one foot in front of the other and cross the kitchen to reach her daughter. “I love you more than you can ever know, at least not until you’re a mom yourself. It’s my job to worry about you and help you make good choices.”
Hannah’s expression softened, and the dark eyes with dark lashes that were one of the few physical legacies of her father turned pleading. “I have to make it in music. I just have to.”
“I know, but you’re only sixteen. Why don’t you at least get some information about colleges? You could talk to the guidance counselor at school. I’m sure she’d have good ideas. If there’s any campus you want to visit, we could go together.” Annie smoothed Hannah’s silky curls. Maybe an outsider would have a better chance of reaching her headstrong daughter and could help her see she could choose more than one path.
“I’ll be seventeen in August, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get information, even though I’m not going to change my mind.”
“I don’t expect you to change your mind.” Like Annie wouldn’t have changed hers at Hannah’s age. “All I ask is you take time to consider all the options.”
Hannah gave her a sunny smile. “From the bus on my way home from school, I saw some guy carrying stuff up to Jake’s apartment. What was that about?”
Annie blinked at the sudden change of subject. Hannah had also inherited her father’s ability to filter out anything she didn’t want to hear. “That would have been Jake’s nephew, Seth Taggart. He turned up this morning a few days early.”
“He’s hot. He sure rocked that dark, brooding look.”
He did, and that was why Annie had to be on her guard around him. She’d been burned by that type once and learned lessons to last a lifetime. “Seth Taggart is way too old for you.”
“Mom.” In addition to the eye roll, the word was full of teenage sarcasm. “I meant for you.” Hannah grinned. “He’s gotta be better than Blake the Flake.”
“Blake’s a perfectly nice man.” If you like safe and predictable, whispered a little voice inside Annie.
“He looks like he’s been washed and ironed.” Hannah’s smile widened. “Seth Taggart worked a rumpled and sexy groove. He was wearing a great pair of boots, too. Can you see Blake the Flake in cowboy boots?”
Annie could, and the comparison wasn’t in Blake’s favor. “Hannah—”
“Geraldine Quinn.” Her daughter stuck out her tongue. “You need to get out and have some fun.”
“I do get out.” Annie’s mouth went dry. “Who took you to New York City for that concert last month and to Smuggler’s Notch for spring break? I also go to the gym with Auntie Tara, and there’s Auntie Rowan’s book club. I ski in the winter and rollerblade in the summer. I sing in the church choir and do yoga.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. All those things were fun, but she did them either solo or with her daughter and sisters.
“I meant fun with guys.” Hannah made a disgusted face. “The book club is all women and ditto the yoga studio. The youngest man in the choir is Mr. Flaherty and he’s retired, and you only go to the gym when Auntie Tara makes you. As for skiing and roller
blading, they’re not exactly team sports.” She pulled a chair away from the kitchen table and sat. “Sure, we do lots of great stuff together, but it’s not like you’re going to meet men with me in tow. And you won’t do online dating, either.”
Annie let out a breath. “You’re still at home and I have a busy schedule. It’s not the right time for me to have a relationship.” She dated when she wanted to, but right now she didn’t want to. She had a lot of other things to figure out first. “You’ve been talking to Auntie Tara.”
“Nope.” Hannah propped her chin in her hands and her expression turned serious. “But if you want me to change my way of looking at things, then you need to change your way of looking at some things too. What will you do when I leave home?”
Annie’s chest hurt. Although she didn’t want to think about what her life would be like without Hannah under the same roof, she had to. And if she didn’t take charge of her life now, maybe she never would. “Okay.” She exhaled. Perhaps she’d gotten a bit set in her ways and she could change that. But Seth was off limits for all sorts of reasons, none of which she could share with her daughter.
Hannah clapped her hands. “How long is that Seth guy going to be in town?”
“I don’t know.” If what Annie had glimpsed in his face was right, he’d bail on his inheritance and the station would be sold before the leaves came out on the wishing tree.
She shut her eyes and breathed a silent prayer to God, the saints, and Nana Gerry, too. Her demons were her demons. They had nothing to do with Seth Taggart.
~ ~ ~
Seth rolled over in bed. The buzzing noise wasn’t in his head. It came from the alarm on the ancient clock radio on the nightstand beside him. He fumbled for the switch on the bedside lamp.
The buzzing was joined by a bark, and then a cold wet nose bumped his cheek.
He hit the light and then the alarm and lurched to sit upright as the bed springs creaked in protest.
“Dolly?”
The dog stared back at him before she propped her paws on Seth’s bare shoulders. Her big brown eyes were level with his nose.
“What do you think you’re doing here?”
Dolly whined and licked his ear.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Seth yanked the quilt up and over his shoulders.
“Good morning, Irish Falls.” The nasally, singsong male voice came from somewhere to Seth’s right. He staggered out of bed and took the quilt with him, but the disembodied voice came from the radio, not inside the apartment.
Dolly barked again and bounced from one end of the bed to the other, like her paws were on springs.
“You’re listening to KXIF, the voice of the Adirondacks. If you’re heading out of town, I had a call that a herd of cows is blocking the road at the bottom of the mountain.” The man, who also sounded as if he had a heavy cold, dropped his final t’s so “out” became “ou” and drew out his vowels so “cows” sounded more like “caows.”
Seth dug in his duffle bag for a T-shirt and pulled it on then sat back on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. This wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. Almost twenty-four hours later he was still here, so the train wreck that was the rest of his life and he had to dig himself out of was here, too.
He flipped off the radio to silence the guy in mid-sentence and raised his head to eyeball the dog. “I need a shower and an extra-large coffee, after which you and I are going for a walk to figure a way out of this mess.”
Dolly whined and thumped her tail, leaving clumps of white hair on the navy comforter.
“Okay, breakfast for you as well.” A heaping scoop from the big bag of dog food propped in a corner of Jake’s hall closet. “I’m still finding you a good family, but I can see why Jake liked you.” Seth rubbed one of Dolly’s silky brown ears. “But no more sharing this bed, you hear?”
Three hours later, Dolly, the hairball in his bed, was the least of Seth’s worries. A takeout coffee in one hand and Dolly’s leash in the other, he stood on the narrow pedestrian walkway on the bridge that spanned the Black Duck River in the middle of town.
Not that he’d doubted her, but the lawyer had confirmed what Annie had said. The station was only his to sell if he ran it for six months. Jake had also added a long list of conditions to ensure Seth couldn’t skip town and appoint an interim manager.
He pulled out his wallet and flipped to the dog-eared photo he kept in the plastic space at the back. Five-year-old Dylan beamed at him from behind a birthday cake decorated with racing cars and, as always, the love and trust in his son’s gaze pulled at him and reminded him of what he’d lost. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Dylan had grown up and into a life of his own, and now he was at college in New York City and Seth was a bystander relegated to the sidelines.
Dolly nudged his leg, and he stooped to pat her soft head. He stared into the silvery water bubbling against the dark rocks below the bridge. Sticks caught in the current drifted toward the falls. It wasn’t too late to start over with his son. If only his ex-wife had been able to be a mom, maybe she’d have known what to do. But if Amanda had been around for all those years of raising Dylan, maybe he and his son wouldn’t have gotten into this mess in the first place.
“Seth?” Footsteps clattered on the wooden bridge slats, and he started as Annie stopped beside him. “I hope you aren’t going to jump in the river. The story here is that a guy did that on a dare back in the nineteen forties. The current’s stronger than it looks, so he drowned. Some folks believe his ghost still haunts this bridge.” Although her smile mitigated her words, it didn’t quite mask the concern in her eyes.
He snapped the wallet shut and slid it back into his pocket. “No. I lost track of time.” And got caught between a past he didn’t want to think about and a future he couldn’t yet imagine.
“There’s a storm moving in. Didn’t you notice? We’ll get rain for sure, maybe even late-season snow.”
Annie’s gaze locked with his. Something he didn’t want to put a name on sizzled between them.
“Snow? It’s the third week of April. What kind of climate is this?”
“The Adirondack kind. Here, even when it’s milder like this year, winter gets a grip and doesn’t want to let go.” She gave him an impish grin. “Dolly hates wet weather.”
“I . . . uh.” Seth glanced at the dog then back to Annie.
She wore a dark blue rain jacket and above it, her pretty hair was windblown.
“Are you okay?” Her eyebrows drew together as she frowned. “The first time I called your name you didn’t answer. I’m on my way back from the bank. Pretty much anywhere you want to go in town, you have to walk or drive across this bridge.”
“I’m fine.” The lie rolled off his tongue with ease.
He turned to follow her off the bridge and, below the hem of the jacket, her butt swayed in a pair of sculpted jeans. Seth jerked his head up. Whoa. She was the executor of Jake’s will. He could be friendly to her, but no more than he’d be with any professional colleague.
When she reached the bakery side of the bridge, Annie stopped and dug a dog treat out of her pocket for Dolly. “The attorney said you talked to him.”
“News travels fast here.” Seth fell into step beside her, along the sidewalk that led up the hill to the bakery on Malone Street in the center of Irish Falls.
“Karl’s office is three doors down from Quinn’s.” A half-smile played around Annie’s mouth. “He drops by morning and afternoon for coffee and one of the German spice cookies Tara makes from his Oma’s recipe. You could set your watch by him.”
“I asked him about Jake’s will.” Seth moved closer to her as a red pickup rattled by on the street beside them, leaving bits of straw and mud in its wake.
“What did he say?” She stepped away and maneuvered Doll
y between them.
“I want a second opinion.” The truth might be staring him in the face, but he still had to try. He flinched as an icy raindrop landed on the end of his nose.
“Karl’s practiced law here for almost thirty years. He’s smart and Jake trusted his advice. If you don’t want the station, though, the charities Jake nominated if you said ‘thanks, but no thanks,’ could sure do a lot of good with that money.” Annie picked up the pace and Seth broke into a jog to keep up with her.
“If Jake was big on charity work, why didn’t he leave the station to those groups in the first place? And why did he insist I come here in person to find out the terms of his will?” Seth’s stomach hardened and he stared at the colorful century-old buildings that lined Malone Street. “Since he left me the station with the caveat of running it for six months, he must have had a reason.”
“I’m sure he did.” A gust of wind tossed Annie’s hair around her face, and she yanked up the hood of her jacket as misty rain blew in on the wind.
“It sounds like you were close to Jake. Why didn’t he leave the station to you?” Seth lurched forward as Dolly pulled on the leash.
“I’m not Jake’s family. You are.” She fixed him with a steely gaze. “His only living family.” Her left hand closed over Seth’s right and tugged on the leash. Dolly stopped straining.
Her touch warmed him. Then Annie took her hand away and stuck it in her jacket pocket before striding ahead of him.
“I . . . hey . . .” Seth’s hand tingled with the imprint of hers, and feelings he was certain he’d left behind years ago churned in the pit of his stomach.
Annie stopped beneath the bakery’s green and white-striped awning. Inside, two women stood behind the counter and stared out the big front window at them. One was Tara and, given the bright red hair, as well as what the lawyer had told him about the Quinn family earlier, the other one must be the third sister, Rowan.
