Angel of Smoky Hollow (11 page)

“I heard you playing, wanted to hear more. ‘Orange Blossom Special', isn't it?”

She nodded.

“Hard piece to play, so I've heard.”

“You've heard right. I'm determined, however,” she said.

“Sounds good. I'll let my granddad know.”

“Why would he care?”

“He's planning to come to the festival this year. First time in two decades. Wants to hear you play, said if Webb Francis thought you were good, maybe you are.”

She laughed. “So he wants to verify that himself?”

“I reckon he does.”

“I still want to go back to his farm and hear him sing that song. I found the music and have been practicing that one as well.”

“I expect he'll be pleased to hear that.”

The phone sounded.

“Who would that be?” she asked, putting down the violin and heading toward the kitchen. Kirk moved out of her way, then followed.

“Mother!” Angelica was startled to hear her mother on the other end of the line. She had hoped to have more time before having to talk to her.

“What in the world are you doing in the backwoods of Appalachia, Angelica?” her mother demanded. “I can't believe you just took off and never said a word. What were you thinking?”

“I'm taking a vacation,” she said. Guilt infiltrated. She tried to rationalize she had the right, but old habits were hard to break.

Kirk stepped closer and watched her. He couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but she knew he could hear her.

“And you just take off without a word to your father and me? I can't believe you left so abruptly and did not contact us!”

She was staring at Kirk's bare chest, bronzed by the sun, defined by muscles from his work. None of the men she knew looked so good.

“Angelica!”

“What do you want me to say? I wanted to take a vacation, so I did. I'm entitled.” She turned halfway away from Kirk to better focus on her mother's tirade.

“Well, of course you can take a vacation. You should have told us, we would have rented a cottage at the Cape.”

“I didn't want to go to Cape Cod this year. I wanted a total break and a chance to explore different music. I decided to come here.”

“Now is the time to be scheduling future concerts, renewing your contract with the philharmonic, not hiding away in the woods. Good grief, what were you thinking? You have to keep constantly in the public's eye to build a following. Which is the reason I'm calling. Your agent has a marvelous opportunity for you in Europe. For two months, you'd tour some of the capitals, Paris, Rome, Madrid, Berlin. It's an fantastic chance to build recognition abroad as well as enhance your CV here in the states.”

“As a soloist?” Angelica asked, feeling things closing in on her. She didn't want to have to do a tour in Europe. She wanted to stay right here. The thought startled her and she looked at Kirk. He was watching her with the intensity she'd grown used to.

“Yes. Call him today. He's been calling us for days, frantic to get in touch with you.”

“I'll call later.”

“Now, Angelica!”

Angelica gripped the phone. She had left New York to escape the pressure of her life. Her mother was jumping in
with both feet, and she resented it. This was her life, not her mother's.

“You're needed back in New York.”

“I'll call later,” she said, infusing her voice with determination. This was her first vacation ever. She discounted family outings. She was not going to cut it short.

“I can't believe I'm hearing this. You have had the best musical education money can buy. And you choose to go to some backwoods area in Kentucky for your vacation? And now you're delaying calling your agent. What has come over you?”

“This is what I want for this summer,” she tried to explain. Already she was feeling the pressure to conform to their plan for her future. They couldn't understand her desire to break away and learn more than just the classics and modern music. She wanted—

“There was a great program at the Cape this summer. You should have gone there. At least you'd have been closer to home,” her mother said. “And more available when your agent called. I can't believe you aren't jumping at the chance for this tour. It's amazing, and to be offered to one so young is simply miraculous. You need to grasp the chance, these don't come along all the time.”

Angelica glanced at Kirk. He was staring intently at her and she wondered how much he could hear. He looked at her quizzically.

Frustration rose. “Mom, I'll take care of it.” She knew her voice was rising, but she was angry her mother kept harping on this when Angelica had been enjoying her break from routine. She was not a child!

Kirk placed his hand over hers holding the phone and pulled it away. “What?” he asked softly.

“She won't listen.”

“Then hang up,” he said.

She stared at him. Then put the phone back to her ear. Her
mother was talking, but she'd missed most of what she'd said. “I have to go now, Mom. Goodbye.” Then she hung up the phone. Staring at it in amazement, she couldn't believe she just hung up on her mother!

“Angelica,” he said.

She looked up.

“You've done nothing wrong. You're a capable adult, fully able to make your own decisions. Why get upset over a conversation on the phone?”

“They act like I can't think for myself. Like I have to fulfil some great scheme to be the best violinist ever in the world. And before this summer, I've always let them tell me what to do. I'm not sure I can stand up to them.”

“Just say no,” he said.

She repeated the phrase and nodded. “Here's hoping.”

The phone rang again. Angelica looked at it and then shrugged. “Let it ring. Thanks for cutting the grass. It smells so fresh. And the roses show better without the scraggly grass. Want more tea?”

The phone continued to ring.

“Let's move to the porch,” she suggested. She'd never deliberately ignored her parents in her life. It felt oddly liberating. She was an adult. She could make her own choices!

 

After Kirk had left, however, Angelica began to feel a twinge of guilt. She should at least see what her agent had to say. She could always just say no.

Calling him, she was surprised how anxious he was to speak to her.

“Never leave town without leaving a forwarding phone number,” he said.

“I'm on vacation,” she said, not at all pressured by Henry, not like with her parents. “My mother said you have a gig?”

“I cringe at your slang. This is a marvelous opportunity to showcase your best work in a tour of five capitals in Europe,
several concerts in each venue. It's in conjunction with the Musique Francais production. How can you refuse?”

“When and where?” she asked. The Musique Francais was very prestigious. Her mother was right, this would be the opportunity of a lifetime—especially for one as young as she was.

“Rome, Berlin, Madrid, Paris and London. Starting the second week in September. I've already stalled longer than I should have, trying to reach you. You'd have to fly to London to begin rehearsals and practice next week. There is no time to waste. How soon can you be back in New York?”

“That's a problem,” Angelica said. “I'm teaching two students and can't leave before the music festival.”

“What? You're teaching!” Henry sounded astonished. “That's preposterous. Unless—are they gifted—would I need to hear them?”

“They're learning folk songs from this area, so I don't think they are your average client, Henry. Actually it's turning out to be quite fun. I love the excitement they have for learning. And I'm learning as much helping them. I did promise I'd do what I could to get Sam ready for the festival. He's worked so hard. They plan to come practice even on a Saturday. How's that for dedication?”

“Whatever are you thinking?” he asked. “You aren't a teacher—you're a gifted musician.”

Angelica explained, ending with, “So, you see, I have to meet this commitment.”

“I see nothing of the sort. The child is eight. He can practice on his own. Let the locals teach him. Let him wing it. You're needed here and then in Europe.”

“There's no teacher until Webb Francis gets well. And I made a commitment.”

“Break it. This is far more important. Do you know how rare it is to get this kind of chance?”

She bit her lip with indecision. She did know how rare it was. And what a boost to her career it would be to have this to include in her CV. Then Sam's face danced before her. He was counting on her.

“I'll have to let you know.”

“Angelica.”

“I'll think about it and call you back in a day or so. Goodbye.”

She was getting good at ending conversations when she was finished being harangued by the other party. At least he didn't have her phone number to keep calling like her mother did.

She went to sit on the porch, gazing at the newly mowed lawn, feeling the heat seep into her. For an instant she felt like a reprimanded schoolgirl. Taking a breath, she hoped she could focus on the decision needed and not her frustration with the way others treated her. She appreciated the work Henry did for her. But ultimately, it was her decision in which way to take her career.

The thought of playing in some of the capitals of Europe was very tempting. A few weeks ago she would have jumped at the chance. Now, she wanted to take a little time and consider all the ramifications. Maybe a walk would clear her head. She headed toward town, and the familiar sights there.

Melvin and Paul were on the porch and she waved, but didn't stop. Only when she was getting uncomfortably hot did she retrace her steps.

Mentally listing all the positive aspects of her vacation, she wanted to be able to articulate all her reasons if she decided against this tour. She did not touch on the one where she felt smothered and confined with the direction her parents so supported. Somehow she had to come up with a logical reason not to take the tour, or accept and give up the vacation she was enjoying.

 

K
IRK KNOCKED
on her door just before six. He'd showered and changed and looked amazing in a cotton shirt and khaki pants. She let him in and stepped back lest she give in to the overwhelming temptation to throw herself into his arms.

“What's up?” she asked.

“Thought you might like to get away for a while. We could eat at the diner.”

She studied him for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “I'd love it. I've been with too many spinning thoughts this afternoon.”

“How old did you say you were?”

“I know, my parents can be bit overbearing. This is the first time I've challenged them with anything and I think they don't know how to handle it. I'm their only child, I've been so dutiful all along, this is a major change. My mother wanted me to spend the summer at Cape Cod. My father usually goes along with what my mother wants.”

“Most kids rebel sometime in their teens. This is hardly rebellion in a major sense, but maybe you are overdue. And I can't see how what you do impacts their lives now that you're grown and on your own. You live in Manhattan, not Boston.”

Ruefully she shrugged. “I'm sure it's better to say my daughter is touring Europe than she's in the boonies of Kentucky.”

“They're snobs,” he said easily.

Angelica wanted to refute that. She even opened her mouth, then shut it. Thinking about it, were her parents snobs? “You could be right. I never thought about it before.”

He tapped his finger against her chin. “You're a bit of a snob yourself.”

“I am not.”

“Not so much now, but I remember your look of horror when you stepped off the bus.”

“It wasn't snobbery, it was astonishment that I was still
in America and stepped off into such a different world.” She didn't know whether to be insulted or not. She didn't want to be thought of as a snob.

“Ready to go? I thought we could take the bike.”

She grinned. “Snobs do not ride motorcycles.”

“So maybe you're broadening your horizons,” he said.

He got on the bike and waited. Angelica put her helmet on, wishing she and Kirk could just drive away and keep going until they ran out of gas. Evade making any decisions, just go where the mood strikes. She wanted to defend her choices, share with her parents her delight in the friendly people in Smoky Hollow who had gone out of their way to make her welcome. Convey all the new experiences that flooded her every day. The fun she was having.

When they sat in the booth at the diner Angelica realized how out of place her parents would be in a setting like this. Their sophisticated clothing would shout to the world they were not from Smoky Hollow. She knew her mother would look with disdain at Angelica's appearance. She had worn nice slacks and a cotton top—perfectly suited to the community. She liked the feeling of fitting in. She wondered when she'd felt that way before—if ever.

K
IRK SAT BACK
as far as the bench seat allowed once he'd ordered, watching Angelica study the menu. He knew she wasn't seeing the words as her eyes never moved. She was lost in thought. He waited another minute.

“You okay?” he asked.

She looked up and nodded. Laying the menu down, she sighed softly. “It always gets complicated when dealing with my parents.”

“You don't have to deal with them here. They are a thousand miles away.” She shrugged.

“Look at it as you've made a commitment and you need to follow through. Aren't they big on complying with commitments?”

“Of course, but usually the commitments are ones they've chosen.”

“I don't think Sam Tanner and Teresa Ann Williams care who chose the commitment, they're counting on you to help them. Sam plans to play in the festival for the first time. He's eight. Not a bad thing for a kid that young. Would you end that dream?”

“If Webb Francis recovers soon enough, he can handle things.”

“He won't be back in time. Plus, I'm looking forward to hearing you play ‘Orange Blossom Special'.”

She smiled. “You might not be so glad once you've heard me. It's tricky.”

“Most of us in Smoky Hollow will never to get to New York to hear the philharmonic. You wouldn't deny us the chance to hear you this summer, would you? It's not as if you're planning to stay here the rest of your life.”

He knew he kept repeating that as if it were a mantra. Maybe he'd believe it one day. Even if she did stay,
which she wouldn't
, he had nothing to offer. The residents of Smoky Hollow chose their lifestyle for the most part, didn't get into it by default. Webb Francis had done his stint in New York and San Francisco, and except for himself, was probably the most traveled of anyone in town. But they weren't the only ones who had traveled and seen the world.

When the food came, Angelica relaxed a little commenting on how delicious the pot roast she'd ordered tasted. Gradually he could feel the tension slip away. Not wanting to risk a return, Kirk tried to keep the conversation into noncontroversial topics.

“I appreciate your asking me to dinner,” she said when they both finished. “I don't know what I'm going to do.”

“About?”

She studied him a moment then said, “My agent has a fantastic opportunity to do a tour in Europe in the fall. Six months ago I would have jumped at the chance with no hesitation. Now—I don't know.”

He dropped his gaze to the last of the iced tea in his glass. Another reason she would never fit into his niche. She was a world-class concert violinist, with the opportunity to tour Europe. He looked out the window at the empty street, the trees that crowded nearby. Nothing like the capitals of Europe. Nothing he had or could offer would ever compete.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I have no idea. But I have to decide soon. Another layer of pressure. I wanted to come here this summer to gain some
perspective. I'm flat burned out with everything. I know my parents love me and want the best for me. But it's as if they push, push, push all the time!”

“It sounds like what they want is for you to follow the path they've laid down. Adult children can't always do that and be true to themselves and what they want. My granddad wanted my father to be a farmer. He tried, hated it and went to work in the mines which he liked, odd as it seems. He'd probably be alive today if he'd become a farmer. Then Granddad wanted me to be a farmer, but that's not the life I want. I don't mind helping him out from time to time, but that's not something I'm going to do. Hard for him to accept, but he has. If I ever get married and have children, I will not expect them to go into construction or become a sculptor. Each person has to choose his or her own paths in life. Your decision this summer is, which path are you going to choose?”

For a moment he thought she might say she would choose to remain in Smoky Hollow. She looked out the window at the town and a small smile tugged at her lips. Small and rural, Smoky Hollow had all he wanted. But how could it compete with New York City, or London or Paris?

“I'll have to decide, won't I? No more coasting along.”

He wished he could magically find something to say that would have her embracing Smoky Hollow. Have her at least think about staying. Think about him.

 

Angelica was a long time falling asleep that night. She wandered in the music room and played a few songs, but was too restless to continue. Looking out the window, she saw the light on in Kirk's studio and wished she dared go over and watch him work. But her heart couldn't bear another directive like the other night to go home.

The problem was she wasn't sure exactly where home was. Was it her apartment in New York? The old brownstone home she'd grown up in in Boston? Or was it someplace she hadn't
found yet, where she would feel a connection, a rightness that settled all questions.

She liked Smoky Hollow, but how could she make a living here? She was a concert violinist, not a teacher. She'd trained for years, but the thought of more concerts, more practice, more of the same made her tired.

Yet the idea of achieving a tour of Europe in the fall brought a heady rush. It would be quite an achievement at her age. Hadn't she been working toward something like that her entire life? Could she turn her back on that?

Kirk was right. She stood on a precipice, her entire future ahead of her. But for a moment, she did not want to return to the forest of the familiar. She wanted to be brave enough to step out in a new direction and risk falling flat on her face.

Where was her place?

 

The next morning Angelica awoke with a vague feeling of dread. Realizing it was apprehension at time running out on her decision for the future, she slowly rose and tried to think of ways to make the right choice. There were so many variables.

First her parents. She'd done her best to please them all her life. Kirk was right, it was time she made her own decisions. Yet she didn't want to hurt them.

Then her agent. He'd taken her on right out of the conservatory, green and new. Worked with her to build a career that others envied. One from which she fled this summer as the pressure built.

She was still dithering about her choice when the phone rang shortly before ten. She hesitated long and hard before answering. She was not ready to give her decision.

“Angelica.” Her father was calling.

“Hi, Dad.” Had her mother prevailed upon him to call?

“Your mother told me of your conversation. Honey, we want
what's best for you. But it's time you decide that for yourself. Only you will know what's best for you.”

She was dumbfounded. They were leaving the decision to her? Just like that? No pressure? No arguments on what they knew was best for her? She didn't know what to say.

“Tell me about the place you're staying this summer,” he said.

Slowly she began to tell him about meeting the warm and friendly residents of this small town. Of the two children she was fast coming to adore. Of Hiram Devon and his amazing voice. Of Kirk she said little. She dare not chance revealing how much she was coming to rely on him to be there for her.

“Sounds like you are having the time of your life,” her father said some time later.

“I guess I am,” she said slowly, realization dawning. She was having a wonderful summer. Glancing out the window she smiled at the trees that shaded the back yard.

“You'll make the right decision. Let us know.”

She felt like a prisoner released from jail. What had prompted the call? She did not want to question her good fortune at not having to convince them she needed to stay, but she didn't understand this abrupt about-face at all.

“It was good to talk to you, Dad,” she said.

“I enjoyed hearing everything. Do well at your music festival.”

She hung up. What had happened? Did her mother know her father had called her? She sat down at the kitchen table and considered the odd conversation. Her mother had been the driving force behind her rise to prominence in the music world, she realized. Her father had always supported her, but never pushed as hard as her mother. Had her father heard something in her determination, in the change in her, when she talked to her mother? It was as if he was giving Angelica permission to be free.

When the phone rang again, she was sure it was her mother, about to give her a different directive. Or her agent, demanding an answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Angelica, it's Gina. There's a practice called for this afternoon in the school multi-use room at two. Can you join us? It'll give you a chance to see the various groups who will be in the festival and meet everyone. Sorry for the late notice, but the gal arranging it all didn't have you on her list.”

“Yes, at two. Where is the school?”

Gina rattled off directions and then said how pleased she was that Angelica would be there.

Angelica wondered if Sam knew about the rehearsal. It would be too heartbreaking for him to be practicing so long and not be included. But he was going to the fair today. Still, she wanted him to know about the rehearsal. She knew his last name was Tanner, but looking in the thin phone book that served for Bryceville, Smoky Hollow and three other communities, she saw a dozen Tanners.

She'd have to ask Kirk.

Walking over to his house, Angelica went to the back door and knocked. After a few minutes, she wondered if he could hear someone knocking. She opened the door and peeped in. The kitchen was immaculate. She heard no sounds in the house.

She turned and walked to the studio. The door was closed. When she opened it, the studio was in darkness. No Kirk.

So much for finding out who Sam's father was.

As she started walking back to her house, she heard his motorcycle. She changed directions and went to the back door. A moment later Kirk pulled up. He took off his helmet and looked at her. “Need something?”

“Sam Tanner's phone number. There's a rehearsal today and I don't want him to miss it.”

“Sure, Sam's a third, I think. Anyway, his dad is Sam, too.
I've got his number, come on in.” He got off the motorcycle and hung the helmet from the handlebars.

“You were out early,” she commented.

“Went to see Granddad,” he said as he went to hold the back door open for her.

“How is he?”

“Doing well. And talking about that song you two are doing.” He pulled open a drawer and rummaged around the papers, pulling out a list of names and numbers.

“Here, Sam senior's the fourth one down.”

“What is this list?” she asked, taking the page and scanning all the names.

“Different skills guys have in construction so I know who to call when we have a barn raising like we did for Ben and Carrie. Or some other project. Sam's specialty is electrical. You can use my phone.” He pointed to the phone on the wall.

Once she'd spoken to Sam's mother and told her about the rehearsal she hung up and turned to Kirk.

“My dad called this morning. He practically told me to disregard anything they've said in the past and go for what I want. I couldn't believe it.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head a little to study her. “Why? He's an adult, and seems to realize you are one as well.”

“He asked about my visit.”

“And?”

“So I told him and he said I sounded happy. He's right. I'm happy here.”

“You sound almost surprised.”

“I guess I am.”

“Need a ride to the rehearsal?” he asked.

She considered the offer. One time he tells her to go home, then he takes her to dinner. Now he's offering to take her to the rehearsal. She was confused by the way he acted. She was
not confused about wanting to spend as much time with him as she could.

“I'd like that.”

“When is it?”

“At two at the high school.”

“I'll pick you up about ten minutes before that. It's a short drive.”

“It's a short drive anywhere in Smoky Hollow. I could probably walk.”

“No need to carry your fiddle all that way.”

She should leave. She had nothing else to say, but didn't want to walk away. Finally as the silence stretched out, she smiled and turned to leave.

 

Kirk watched her go. Once the screen door banged shut behind her he let out his breath. Ever since Angelica Cannon had shown up in Smoky Hollow, his life had been topsy-turvy and didn't seem about to settle down.

Once the festival was over, she would be back where she belonged—within the month.

Every time he repeated it, he tried to convince himself that maybe she'd stay. Yet what did he have to offer? His own mother hadn't stayed. Neither he nor his father had meant enough to her.

Much as he wished Angelica would stay, it would be a waste of her talent, and the prospects for the future. He was not one to stand in her way.

Deliberately refusing to look out the window to watch her walk across the lawn, he turned instead to head to the studio. He had several hours before he saw her again. Time enough to shore up defenses.

 

There were more people than Angelica expected when she reached the yard where the rehearsal would be held. Her violin
was in her case. She had the one Sam was using in another case, and sheet music for both of them in her tote.

Gina spotted her as soon as Kirk's truck pulled in and hurried over.

“You staying?” she asked Kirk.

“No. How long?”

“Two-three hours. We'll call you.” With that her attention shifted to Angelica. “Glad you could make it. Come and meet the others.”

By the time a modicum of order was established, Angelica had met at least two dozen people. Some names she knew, some she'd never remember. Gina had all the groups lined up together, pointing to spots on the ground where she'd put papers with giant numbers. For the single players, she had them gather in one group. Just as Angelica looked for Sam, a pickup arrived and the little boy jumped out and ran to her.