Love Song [Instrumental] (Hidden Springs #1)

5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Callie accepted her guitar back from Danny and placed it gently in its case. She reached out to shake his hand.

“Thanks for a great jam session, my friend,” she said. “Same time tomorrow?”

He lit up at the invitation. He shook her hand, clearly feeling very adult, and nodded enthusiastically, reminding her of a puppy whose tail wags its entire body. Roscoe yawned and stretched and then climbed to his feet, nudging Danny’s hand until he got his goodbye head scratch.

After hearing Danny’s story from her mother, Callie hadn’t been sure what to expect this morning. The possibility that she could run into Adam again at any moment had also put her on edge. But Danny had turned up, still cautious, as if he expected her to send him home this time. They had played a lot of music and hadn’t talked much. It seemed to be what they both needed.

“Same time tomorrow,” he answered, his voice sounding less rusty than the day before.

Danny raced out of the summer house, the storm door slamming shut behind him, and she could hear the slapping of his feet on the path as he headed home. She smiled to herself and turned back to her instrument, ready to begin work on her own material. Roscoe resumed his napping position.

Callie continued working, caught up in the peace and sunshine of the morning, until the rumble of the school bus broke her concentration. Funny how she recognized the distinctive sound, even after all this time. She listened to the squeak of the brakes as it stopped to pick up Danny, then the roar of its engine as it lumbered on down the road. As the sound faded into silence, the peace was punctuated by a growl from her stomach. She laughed and began putting away the instruments. Roscoe understood that signal and stretched, then shook off his morning nap. Time for breakfast.

“Callie,” said a deep voice from the doorway.

Her lungs seized up. She lost her grip on the fiddle and it tumbled onto the cushioned bench. She was grateful for the distraction it provided because it gave her time to recover from the shock.

Adam.

He didn’t look anything like she had expected—not that she had really expected to see him again. But on those rare occasions when he had floated through her dreams, she had always envisioned him as Mr. Business Man, buttoned up in a suit, looking like the kind of guy who lives halfway around the world and flies on private jets.

The man standing before her was none of those things. Instead of a suit, he wore faded jeans, work boots, and a plaid flannel shirt over a white tee. She swallowed a hysterical giggle, realizing that he looked exactly like the Brawny paper-towel guy. The soft fabrics wrapped around the contours of his body in a way that a suit never would. The idea that once, long ago, she had wrapped herself around those contours seemed impossible, like something she had read in a book or seen in a movie. That memory must belong to somebody else .

Now he was here, in the flesh, and she could feel her blush rising and her throat closing up. Good grief, he was all man now, and more intense than she remembered. She had no idea what to say. Everything she could think of sounded silly or pathetic.

Electricity danced across her palms and she rubbed her hands together, trying to defuse it. She shot a hostile glance at Roscoe, the worthless watchdog, who hadn’t bothered to sound the alert. Seriously? “The Road Not Taken” walks up and knocks on the door, and it doesn’t even merit a growl? The dog didn’t even have the sense to hang his head. He stretched forward, then back, shook his hind leg, and finally sauntered over to investigate. Rather than growling, as he should have, he began sniffing, as if Adam might have pockets full of treats. The traitor even began to wag his tail. She sighed in disgust.

Adam simply waited in the doorway, ignoring Roscoe and staring at Callie, arms crossed, his face serious. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he wasn’t thrilled to see her.

“It’s been a long time,” he said. She couldn’t read his face.

She nodded. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.

She couldn’t breathe properly. The air in the summer house seemed thick and hot.

“I need you to do me a favor,” he said.

“What is it?” she asked.

How had she forgotten the color of his eyes? The same dark blue as Danny’s, like the lake on a spring morning. Today they looked very cold.

“I need your help with Danny,” he replied. “He’s been sneaking out of the house every morning for weeks,” he continued. “I’m sure you can imagine how disturbing it was for me to discover that he’s been meeting—secretly—with a complete stranger.”

She sucked in a breath, deeply hurt .

“Wait a minute,” she said. “I only got here yesterday.”

His mouth tightened. He would have spoken, but she barreled right over him.

“And even if I had been here the whole time,” she continued, “I’m not some creepy pedophile that he met on the internet.” She choked down the lump in her throat. “I’m not a stranger. You know me.”

“I did,” he agreed, and the past tense hurt, “but you’re a stranger to Danny.” Adam’s voice was cold. “He should know better than to talk with you, and you should know better than to let him.”

Out of the hurt, anger was rising. She stood up and crossed the room to meet him head on.

“Give me a break,” she said, unable to connect the stranger before her with the Adam she had known so long ago. “Danny knows I live next door, so I don’t count as a stranger. He and I play music together. There’s nothing disturbing about it.”

“It’s disturbing to me,” he said, “and I’d like you to stop.”

“Just like that?” she asked, with a casual snap of the fingers. She thought about Danny’s joy in playing, and how much she had enjoyed sharing the music with him. “We can’t play music anymore?”

“Just like that.”

“Who are you?” she whispered.

Callie felt sick. When had Adam turned into this cold-hearted jerk? Did he not understand how important music was to his nephew? Taking music away would be like drowning him in all the big emotions that he couldn’t control—emotions like her own rising indignation and outrage. Her self-control slipped, and her answer spilled out before she could stop it.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” His eyes narrowed. Callie clenched her hands .

“No, I will not stop playing music with Danny,” she repeated.

“Why not?” He seemed both annoyed and genuinely surprised. Either he wasn’t used to people saying ‘no,’ or he really didn’t understand that music was important to Danny.

“Danny clearly loves music,” she said. “It’s as necessary to him as breathing. If he wants to play music with me, I’m not going to turn him away.”

“How can you say that?” he demanded. “You’re not his parent. You hardly know him. How could you possibly imagine that you know what’s best for him?”

“I would never hurt a child,” she said, insulted that he would even think it.

“You know nothing about him! You could hurt him without even realizing it.”

“You must have seen us playing music together,” she said. “Did you hear him play? Did you see how happy he was? Why would you take that away from him?”

She had hit a nerve. His face closed up and his body stiffened.

“Won’t you be the one to take it away from him?” he asked, his quiet tone more menacing than outright anger.

“What are you talking about?”

“I doubt you’re planning to move back home,” he said. “What happens to Danny when you leave?”

“I’ll be here for a month,” she answered cautiously. “We can play a lot of music in a month.”

“And then what?”

“Then I leave,” she admitted.

“That’s what I thought,” said Adam.

“So what if I can’t promise forever?” she asked. “Nobody can. Not even you, and you know it.”

He didn’t visibly flinch, but she could tell by the clench of his jaw that she had scored a second hit .

“What I can do is be honest about how long I’ll be here. You can’t ask more than that.”

“I can, and I will,” he returned, and she didn’t like the determination in his voice. “I can thank you for helping me discover that Danny loves music, and I can find him another teacher, someone who will be here for the long term.”

“But—”

“I won’t risk it.”

He stepped forward, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, but she was too worked up to be intimidated. For a moment his mask slipped and she saw the pain behind those eyes, but, like Danny, he refused to let it out.

“I can’t risk it,” he said softly. “Danny needs stability more than music.” He turned away. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

Before Callie could say anything, Adam walked away. She was left gaping at the now-empty doorway, sputtering, all the things she could have said—should have said—racing through her brain.

He disappeared down the lake path. Callie stared hard after him, willing him to reconsider, but he didn’t turn around. She sat down hard on the cushioned bench, the very same bench where she had given herself body and soul to someone named Adam. She wouldn’t corrupt the beauty of that memory by connecting it with the man she had met today. She didn’t like the new Adam very much.

Muttering under her breath about the idiocy of men in general and one in particular, Callie finished packing up the instruments, gathered them up, and stalked up the hill toward the house. Roscoe trailed behind at a safe distance. When she got to the porch—more than a little out of breath—she unloaded the instruments and turned to look back down the hill .

“Arrrrggghhh!” Callie stomped her foot. She hated feeling powerless.

Dora poked her head out the back door onto the porch.

“Breakfast?” she chirped. “I was about to make some oatmeal.”

“Later,” said Callie. “Right now I need to deal with something.”

She pressed her mouth into a firm line. Just because her own life was falling apart didn’t mean that she couldn’t fight for someone else.

She marched right back out the screen door, down the steps, and headed for the path through the woods that led next door, leaving Dora and her questions and the traitor Roscoe behind. She followed the path that led to the old barn, betting that she would find Adam there rather than at the cottage. He had updated it, painting it red so it looked like something out of a children’s storybook. A sign mounted above the massive barn doors read “Reese Boat Restoration.” The large doors must be the entrance for the boats. A smaller, people-sized door to one side bore a “Welcome” sign. She peeked in the window next to the door, but it was dark inside and she couldn’t see much. Not very welcoming.

She began to feel foolish, standing outside the door and shifting her weight from foot to foot as she tried to figure out what to do. If she really intended to fight for Danny, she should barge right in and make her case. If her sister Mel were here, she would already be through the door and going head-to-head with Adam. Actually, Mel would have won the debate back at the summer house, with no need for a second round. Callie, however, was not Mel. She had used up most of her adrenaline on the march over and couldn’t seem to make her hand turn the door handle. So she rang the bell.

She wasn’t being a giant chicken, really, just polite. She jumped at the obnoxious clanging of a cow bell somewhere in the deep shadows of the barn’s interior. Adam must have developed a weird sense of humor.

“Coming.” The clipped voice came from somewhere in the barn. No turning back now. After a few seconds, she heard footsteps and then the door swung inward. He stood framed in the opening, his face in shadow.

“What.” His voice was no more welcoming than his barn.

Callie took a deep breath and tried to imagine what Mel would do.

Adam wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with Callie, now that she had followed him to his last safe haven. He was still so frustrated with Danny for sneaking around, and with her for letting him, that he couldn’t trust himself to be civil. The anger might be completely irrational and, perhaps, a little excessive, but it kept him grounded while all his other emotions ran amok.

What he really needed was a chance to cool off.

She opened her mouth to speak, and he realized that he just couldn’t handle it. He turned on his heel and strode back to his current project, an old wooden Chris-Craft named Speakeasy . He shut Callie out of his mind and gave his attention to the boat in front of him. She was long and sleek and gorgeous, but all that beauty masked serious problems. He had stripped her down to the frame and found dry rot. The damage had accumulated over time, weakening the inner framework until repair was no longer an option. Minor problems he could fix, but the lower transom bow would need to be completely rebuilt. He would need patience to bring her back.

He heard footsteps behind him and stilled.

The work lights bathed the Speakeasy in an intense white glow, in stark contrast to the dimness of the rest of the barn’s interior. He liked it that way. With the barn windows shut and the work lights on, he could focus entirely on the labor of love in front of him—and shut out the rest of the world. He could think about the things in his life that were going well, and forget for a few hours about his failings.

Callie moved through the shadows, circling the perimeter of his workspace until she reached the far side and faced him across the stripped-down shell. She stepped into the pool of light, her stance and her eyes filled with challenge. She was small—he had forgotten just how small—and so much more intense than he remembered. With her long honey-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked young, unpredictable, and slightly wild.

He leaned against an unused sawhorse and folded his arms, surrendering to the inevitable. In all the times that he had imagined running into Callie again, not once had he pictured this. Having a stilted conversation laced with regretful undertones, yes. Hooking up one last time before their lives swept them apart again, yes. But fighting? Never.

“I need you to do me a favor,” she said, throwing his own words back in his face.

“What favor would that be?” he inquired.

“Let Danny play music with me,” she answered.

Oddly, instead of raising his hackles, her words made him smile.

Stop thinking so much and just do it.

They didn’t need to fight about this. If he could just explain, if she would just listen, then maybe she would back off and help him instead of driving him crazy.

“Can we try this again?” he asked. He walked slowly around the stern until they were face to face, then held out a hand. “Callie, it’s great to see you. It’s been a long time.”

They could manage a handshake after all this time, couldn’t they ?

“Adam,” she responded cautiously, reaching out to take his hand.

They had touched each other in many different ways, years ago, but never a handshake. She had a firm grip, her skin cool and soft except for the callused fingertips. He held on longer than he should, unable to help himself. He let his fingertips slide to the pulse point on her wrist and felt the nervous stutter of her heartbeat before he released her hand.

“How are you?” he began, still trying for a fresh start.

“Why don’t you want me to play music with Danny?” she interrupted.

He sighed. No fresh start.

“It’s been a tough year,” Adam replied, “for both of us. The last thing Danny needs is to get attached to someone who’s just passing through. It’s hard enough for him to connect with the adults that are already a part of his life and committed to him.” Adam could feel himself ‘getting intense,’ as his brother used to say, and tried to ease up. “It’s my job to protect him, and I don’t want him to get hurt when you leave.”

If Adam was hoping for sympathy, he didn’t get any.

“So your answer is to stop him from doing something he loves? That makes no sense.”

“I’m not going to stop him from making music,” Adam protested, “but I do think it’s important to know where he is, who he’s with, and to steer him toward solid relationships. The only thing I know for sure is that you’re going to leave.”

The image of her walking away that night after the bonfire still haunted him.

“That an excuse,” she said flatly.

“It’s a fact. Danny needs people in his life who are going to stick around.”

He stepped closer, intending to say more, but the hairline scar on her cheek distracted him. He remembered everything about that day. Evan showing off for Lainey. Callie trusting him to patch her up. That was the summer it all started, and Adam could only hope that Danny would remember how much his parents had loved him.

“What if I can help Danny while I’m here?” pleaded Callie. “Maybe he can relax with me because he knows I won’t be around forever. Maybe I’m exactly what he needs.”

“Maybe you are,” he admitted, “but I can’t take the risk. The stakes are too high.”

Adam hadn’t shared the details of the custody dispute with anybody other than the Doc, but he would tell Callie if he had to.

“Didn’t you say that Danny has trouble opening up to the adults in his life?”

“I did,” he answered. Nice of her to rub it in.

“Well he opened up to me,” she said.

“Listening to music—even playing music—isn’t the same as opening up,” said Adam. He turned to walk away, just to put some distance between them. Then she lobbed her grenade.

“He talked to me.”

Adam froze.

“I asked him where he learned to play,” she continued, addressing her words to his back, “and he said that his dad taught him. They used to play songs together, and they would always play sad ones and make his mom cry.”

Adam could feel his whole body tense. He put a hand on the stern of the boat, anchoring himself on the one solid thing in the room. After all these months of silence, Danny had spoken to a total stranger. Twin waves of relief and resentment swamped him. He closed his eyes and searched for the right words, speaking his reply to the darkness rather than turning to face her.

“Even if you can help Danny,” he responded, measuring his words carefully, “at some point you’ll leave. I know how it feels to watch you walk away. I don’t want him to go through that. ”

He turned slowly to find Callie holding her ground, but her eyes had softened.

“It’s not the same,” she said softly.

Adam could see that this conversation was hard for her, too, and somehow that made him feel better.

“He would know right from the start that we only have a short time together,” she continued. “What if this is his chance? What if he doesn’t open up again for another year? Are you willing to risk that, too?”

Adam didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. He could feel both sides of the knife, waiting to cut him. He didn’t trust his judgment where Callie was concerned. He didn’t want to be seduced by the possibility of a quick breakthrough when he had spent the last year trying to build trust with Danny. All that hard work could be lost if Callie’s departure hit Danny too hard. But she was right. What if his way never worked? What if he lost Danny to Lainey’s parents? What if Danny remained locked inside himself forever—until he found a different, more destructive means of escape? That was Adam’s greatest fear, and his worst nightmare.

“Tell me again how long you’ll be here,” he demanded.

“At least a month,” she answered. “I know it’s not long, but maybe during that time I could get him to play some music with my Dad as well. It could smooth the transition when I leave.”

Adam needed room to breathe, away from the intensity of her face. She glowed under the work lights in a way that made it hard for him to think clearly.

“At least consider it,” she begged. “Please let me help.”

Adam hated not knowing the odds, hated the fact that he needed help. He needed to think this through before he made any decisions, and it was hard to think around Callie.

“I’ll consider it.”

He frowned at Callie’s rising smile .

“Let me be clear,” he said. “You need to stay away from Danny until I have a chance to talk to the school psychologist. And—” he held up a hand to stop her from interrupting. “Once I make a decision, I expect you to abide by it, even if you don’t like it. Understood?”

Callie’s smile faded. He ignored an inexplicable stab of guilt and waited for her acknowledgment.

“Understood,” she said shortly.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

He needed her to leave. He needed to think, away from those eyes that could see right through him. There was nothing more to say, so he turned away, grabbed a putty knife, and started hacking at an ancient layer of glue on the transom. After a moment, he heard her footsteps retreating. The cowbell clanged when she opened the door and left the building.

He stopped before he could damage the underlying wood. She had knocked him sideways, and he needed to find his footing. If Evan could see him now…. Adam shook his head. Thankfully his little brother would never see him like this. Adam was supposed to be the strong one, the one with the answers. But after losing Evan, all he had left were questions.

Callie closed the barn door behind her and leaned back against it, her heart still thumping in her chest. She had done it. She had stood her ground for the first time in years and it felt amazing.

She had always been courageous when it came to Adam.

The caress on her wrist, both unexpected and intimate, had taken her by surprise, reverberating through her body, confusing her. Unlocking memories buried years ago. But she had rallied. Instead of crumpling into a stuttering, blushing mess, she had channeled her sister Mel, imagining what Mel would say, and what Mel would do, and it had worked. No wonder Mel was so outspoken.

Pushing away from the door, she sprinted lightly back home, her spirits rising with every step. This new, grumpy Adam had tried to squelch her enthusiasm with his parting shot, but she wouldn’t let him. She had earned her moment of triumph and she was going to enjoy it.