Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Caleb had one chance to fix things with Ariel. Because the morning after the concert, she’d board the plane for Nashville.
He texted Oscar, the sound man in charge of the concert’s live feed, and asked him to cut the mic after “Amazing Grace.” Then, after a three-hour rehearsal that gave Caleb zero chances to talk with her, the band took off for a farewell picnic lunch at the lighthouse.
Just the place for him to take Blake’s advice and admit to Ariel that he was a fool.
Well, that wasn’t exactly what Blake said, but it was the truth.
Out here on the beach, her hair a little messy, Ariel walked barefoot, carrying her sandals, her perfect smile even more beautiful than before.
She simply took his breath. If only he could see that face every day for the rest of his life…
Yes. The rest of his life. Because now he knew the truth: he’d never love another woman.
Finally, when the band prepared to leave, she hung back a moment, taking one last look at the lake view. Caleb stepped closer. “Stay behind and talk for a few minutes?”
“A few.” She caught the driver’s attention and waved him on. “We could go out on the boardwalk.”
They started toward the water, where the waves lapped up on the rocky shore, creating a calming, unhurried natural metronome. He’d had plenty of time this afternoon to decide how to open the conversation, but when the moment came, he drew a blank, unsure how to apologize.
When the silence grew awkward, he blurted out, “Blake told me I’m a fool.”
Her eyes widened. “He said that?”
“Not exactly, but he made his point. He was right. When you and I talked about our future, I couldn’t get past my fear.” On the boardwalk now, he gazed across the water as a pair of sailboats skimmed close to shore.
“Caleb, when you look out on Lake Huron from Jonathon Island, you can see land over there.” She stepped down to the shoreline and swished her toes in the water.
Pointed toward Port Joseph. “But look in the other direction. All you see is water. No shoreline in sight. If you didn’t know better, you’d think this was an ocean. ”
Caleb cast his gaze over the lake, from nearby Port Joseph to the seemingly never-ending expanse of water.
“We can focus on the solid, fixed, and immovable nearby, or we can cast our gaze on the mystery in the distance,” she said. “But what looks safest isn’t always.”
“I’m glad you think so, because I have some new ideas to run by you. And they involve risk.”
The light began to shine in her eyes again.
Caleb drew a deep breath and silently asked the Lord to help him not be a fool this time. “First, I plan to offer Josie the job of hotel manager. If that works out, I’ll step down.”
Ariel pressed her hand to her chest. “What about the Kennedy legacy?”
“Apparently, I’m the only one who values the so-called legacy. I heard about it all my life, but the more I think about it, the more I remember that my grandma was the one talking. I think the men mostly see it as an income source.”
“So far, I like the plan. It’ll free you up to play music.”
“Part of the year. The inn always needs extra help during peak season, so I’d like to come back from June through August. But not as a manager.
Just to help out wherever Josie needs me.
” He held up one hand. “If she takes the job, you and I could diversify the Miss Dahlia and Ariel franchise and form the two new bands. We could call ourselves the Ariel Sullivan band while your aunt creates another. She stays country while we dive into worship music and jazz. What do you think?”
She hesitated at first. Then, as the water lapped against the rocky shore, she smiled. “My aunt had the same idea, with both bands recording and touring separately. Together too, if we want. And we can all work the annual Christmas tour. But what about Drake Hamilton?”
“Not interested. I want to audition for the new Ariel Sullivan band.”
“Make that the Ariel Denton Sullivan band, and you’ll have a good chance of getting that job.” Her smile reached her eyes and his heart.
They started toward shore. “It took a team to help me understand,” he said.
“First, my grandfather told me to hire Josie as manager. Then he informed me that the whole keep-a-Kennedy-in-management rule lived only in my head and that I should look to the Lord, not traditions. I also found an old letter from my dad supporting whatever career decisions I make.”
“You have a lot of people in your life giving you good advice.”
He pulled his dad’s card from his shirt pocket. “Including Dad. You can read it if you want.”
Ariel took it and soon handed it back, her eyes misty. “What a beautiful letter, Caleb. I’d like to see the violin.”
There she went again, speaking his name in that way of hers that warmed him inside and made him feel secure, wanted. Safe.
How did she do all that with only two syllables?
When they’d walked back to the inn, Caleb brought the violin to the parlor, along with the land grant, his old guitar, and a hammer and nails. He handed her the brown leather violin case.
From her place on one of the room’s couches, Ariel’s eyes widened as she opened it and took in the instrument’s orange-brown varnish. She ran her finger over its ancient label: Joseph Guarnerius fecit cremone anno 1730. “Wow, this has a spectacular patina. How old is it?”
He thought a moment. “I’m not sure Dad knew. Maybe a hundred years. He inherited it from his grandfather, I think.”
“Anno means year in Latin.” She looked again at the label. “Caleb, I think it was made in the year 1730.”
Caleb peered over her shoulder. “Maybe. Try it out if you want.”
Ariel lifted the violin with both hands, then took the bow from its holder.
She rested the violin on her collarbone, her jaw on the chinrest, set the frog of the bow on the silver-wound G-string and drew it slowly down and up again.
Lowering the bow, she seemed to study the violin’s tuning pegs. “Sweet tone.”
“You have a nice touch. Not a single squeak.”
She set down the bow and placed it and the instrument in the case. “What year did Elizabeth Jane receive the land grant?”
He glanced at the document. “1780.”
“I wonder if she brought the violin with her when she accepted her land.” She pulled out her phone. “Can I take a picture of the violin?”
He nodded. “I decided to display the land grant in this room. At first, I wanted to put it in the lobby so all the guests could see it. But today I decided to hang it in the parlor for the town to enjoy. It’s time this inn got back to its roots of hospitality.
” He chose a nail, checked for studs in the space between the door and the wall, and drove in the nail.
Then he hung the framed document by the thick wire attached to its back.
Ariel crossed the room and stood next to him. “That spot was made to display the grant.”
“Feels good to have this piece of history in place.” He strode to the table where he’d left his old guitar.
“We need to bring music back into this room too. Singing the old carols at Christmas, Friday night jams when everybody plays and sings along, Sunday evening hymns. Where should this go? I want everyone to feel free to play it.”
She glanced around the room. “Over the mantel.”
He hung the guitar in its new spot, then returned and sat near her on the couch.
Held her there, in their favorite room—now their favorite place.
“You know, when we’re on the road, we’ll have this room and this moment to think about, memories to enjoy when we’re away.
It’ll comfort us even when we’re not here. ”
“When we are, we’ll share it. Make people feel loved, comforted, and at home. Because, at its heart, that’s hospitality.”
Ariel always approached the morning of a concert with the anticipation of a child before a beach vacation. But this concert would be the best of all, onstage with Caleb.
At this point, she didn’t know what to call Caleb. They weren’t engaged, and Ariel didn’t like referring to a grown man as one’s boyfriend. Aunt Dahlia called Mr. Augo her gentleman friend, but that sounded too old.
For now, “Caleb” would have to do in public, and “love of my life” in her heart.
She’d awakened early—quite early—her mind racing. Would people come wanting to hear for themselves whether or not she could sing? Her mind said probably not, but her heart reserved judgment. Worse, she still didn’t believe she could pull off a concert without the great Dahlia Denton.
She knew what would calm her fears: making music to the Lord on Caleb’s parlor piano.
After she sent pictures of Caleb’s violin to Aunt Dahlia’s friend Enzo Cabrini, who appraised antique stringed instruments.
That done, she slid into her favorite jeans, blue button-down, and sandals, and started toward Island House Inn while the sun still slept on the horizon.
She passed through the main entrance to the parlor, sat down at that beautiful piano, and played her jazzy “Amazing Grace.” Playing her favorite song in one of her favorite places helped settle her mind. Because as sure as the sunrise, the world would watch her today and listen critically.
However, she had Caleb, and she had the Lord. And she had His promise always to stay near.
Only one thing could make this day better—her family in the audience. Charlotte had to give a lecture on soil physics, of all things. Mama and Daddy remained undecided, since Sam crossed his arms and refused to budge if he didn’t want to go somewhere. Ethan? Uncommitted.
But Caleb, her band, and Dani were enough.
As always, the music helped her relax, focus. Now, with the sun awakened and shining, Ariel needed to get to Windy Beach.
She exited to the main porch as a guitar in the distance played “Mercy Song.”
Caleb. On his secret porch.