Bluebells on the Hill (21 page)

The drive down was a blur to Amanda. She was
worried about her cousin, and about Evie. Dave had always been so
strong. To have him so distraught was frightening. She prayed Evie
at least would be spared. What had happened? From what stairs had
she fallen to be so gravely injured? Their apartment building had
elevators. Please let Evie be all right, for Dave's sake. Please,
she prayed.

'I won't waste time trying to park, just drop
you off. We're cutting it close, but you'll make it,' Mac said as
they took the airport exit from Highway 99.

Amanda hadn't realized they were so near. Her
mind was whirling, she could not concentrate on anything but
getting to Evie and Dave.

'Fine, that will be fine' She gathered her
things as he pulled up before the airline’s sign.

She looked at him. 'Thank you, Mac.'

He kissed her lightly, his eyes very somber.
'Come back, Mandy.'

'Of course.' She got out and hurried into the
airport.

Flight time from Stockton to Los Angeles was
less than an hour. To Amanda it seemed endless. Her thoughts were
in turmoil. Scarcely believing the misfortune that had befallen
Dave, she tried to imagine what had happened, how Evie could have
fallen so seriously. She was scared, wished she could have had Mac
beside her.

Mac. How quickly their special moment had
ended. How different things might be had John-Michael not come home
early. Though she could not have reached Los Angeles today had she
not heard the news when she did, she did wistfully wish she could
have remained in ignorance for just a little longer; had had just a
little time with Mac and their new-found love. A night of
inactivity, or worry and long-distance concern would have been
worse, she supposed. Her heart ached for Dave. How devastated she
would be if anything happened to Mac. And she and he had not yet
had time together to grow closer, to develop an interdependent
loving partnership, to forge a life together. How much more Dave
must be feeling.

Hurry, she urged the jetliner, hurry,
hurry.

By the time Amanda reached St Paul's Hospital
she was calm, her emotions firmly under control. What would be,
would be.

She found her cousin, with Sam and Phil, in
the intensive care reception area. Dave's face lightened when he
saw her and he strode across the tiled floor to hug her in a tight
embrace.

How's Evie?' she asked immediately.

His reply was shaky. 'Holding on. They
delivered the baby, Caesarean-section. It's a girl. Evie wanted a
girl.'

'I know and you want what Evie wants.' They
moved to join the others.

'Hi, guys.'

'Mandy.'

'Hi, sugar. Bad scene, isn't it?' Sam gave
her a hug.

'I'll say. When will they know more?' she
asked.

Sam shrugged, looked at Dave, then replied,
'Seems the longer she holds on, the better her chances are. They
just don't know.'

'What happened?'

Dave told her of Evie's fall down the
concrete stairs leading from a friend's second floor apartment. She
had hit her head severely and it was that trauma which was life
threatening.

'And the baby? Have you seen her? What's her
name?'

Dave shook his head. 'She's in guarded
condition, whatever that means. Hasn't had a very good
birthday.'

The hours stretched out as they talked
softly, comforted each other and waited for news from the
doctors.

It was close to midnight when a weary
resident came to tell them to go home. They did not anticipate any
change before morning, if then, but would call instantly if there
were any. The hospital was going on its night shift, usually the
quietest time at St Paul's. They’d all be better rested the next
day if they got a good night's sleep tonight.

Dave was finally convinced. Amanda went home
with him. They would all be back in the morning.

***

The days dragged by. Evie's condition
stabilized a little, but she remained in a coma. The baby, in spite
of her shaky beginning, was soon thriving. When she was discharged
from the hospital at the end of a week, Amanda took charge, calling
her Davie's Baby. Dave refused to name the child, claiming that it
was Evie's choice. He would wait for Evie.

The entire band was back in Los Angeles by
this time, rallying around, taking turns sitting with Dave at
Evie's bedside or helping Amanda with the baby.

As the days passed, Amanda gradually assumed
some of the managerial roles Dave usually performed. The second
week she was there, she suggested they begin rehearsals for the
forthcoming album. She tried the new songs from Bob Clive and
immediately decided to include them. Her two songs from early in
the summer were already on the list. She introduced the one she had
just finished. The others approved, both of the song and the
sentiments it expressed. Explanations were shared and
congratulations given. Now if only Dave approved.

Twice Amanda called Mac, but he sounded
distant and guarded the first time, and out when she called again.
She spoke at length to John-Michael, leaving her number and telling
him what was going on. And, that it looked like her trip to the
south of the state would last longer than she had thought.

She got Elizabeth Burke's number from
John-Michael, and called to reassure that they would be there in
plenty of time for the festival, but might not come prior to the
day itself. Amanda didn't want the older woman to become concerned
because of Amanda's lengthy absence.

The days were full, the nights dragged.
Uncertainties and doubts arose as she lay awake long into the
night. Mac had never said he loved her. Could he be so obsessed
with acquiring the land that he'd resort to marriage? She didn’t
think so. He had dropped that topic once she had given him the
option agreement.

She thought he cared for her, wanted her. She
must be important for him to propose marriage. An affair would be
less permanent from his viewpoint but he hadn’t even suggested
that.

Then, why not call her? Why the long silence
on his part? Maybe he didn't like the telephone, but surely he'd
want to make some contact with her. Maybe if she gave him her
address, he'd write. That seemed even less likely. Somehow Amanda
didn't see him with a pen in hand; he belonged more to the
outdoors. Maybe he regretted his hasty proposal made in a moment of
passion. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts.

Amanda didn't know what to think. She only
knew she ached all over with loneliness and longing.

As Amanda was bathing Davie's Baby one
morning, the phone rang. A jubilant Dave was calling to tell her
Evie was conscious, aware, and the doctors gave their prognosis of
a full, though slow, recovery.

All the members of the troupe were overjoyed
and relieved with the news. Life again became pleasurable. Activity
picked up, preparing the bus for the trip to Timber and the autumn
concert tour, testing all the equipment, last-minute rehearsals,
Dave joining in at last. Plans and confirmations of reservations
were handled for the autumn tour, everything was falling into
place.

The days became more and more hectic as loose
ends were wrapped up, as life geared up again for a concert tour of
over thirty performances. The idyllic getaway summer was over. Evie
was home, Dave back with the band, the baby named–Annie for her
grandmother--and the world was right again.

Amanda tried again and again to talk to Mac,
but only talked with John-Michael.

'Tell your father I'll be there Labor Day for
the festival. For sure. You're going this year, aren't you?'

'Yes, for the first time. Shall we meet you
before you sing?'

'Heavens, yes. We'll be there about ten, I
hope. You and your Dad should be able to get there around then,
too. I don't have to do much with the setting up. The guys do that
part. I can’t wait to see you again. To see your dad.'

'Are you coming by bus?'

'Yes, my own this time,' she said carelessly.
'We'll drive straight to the fairground.'

'We'll see you about ten, then, Amanda,'
John-Michael replied. She had still not talked to John-Michael to
see how long he'd known who she was. There would be time. When she
got back to Timber.

'Good. Tell your father ...' There was so
much she wanted to say. But not through a third person. 'Tell him I
said hi.'

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The next stop would be the
fairground in Timber! Amanda and the guys in her band had driven up
from Los Angeles in the big black and silver bus,
Amanda
emblazoned on its
side. After a night's stop-over in Stockton, the bus was on the
last leg of the journey to Timber. They would arrive right on time
for setting up for the performance at the festival. Sam was at the
wheel, making the curvy mountain hills seem like park driving as he
babied the bus around bends, coaxed it up the hills, coasted
down.

Amanda was impatient to reach their goal. She
couldn't wait to see Mac. They still had lots to discuss, decisions
and plans to make. Family to inform. Except for her cousins and
John-Michael, no one else in either family knew she was engaged.
All that notwithstanding, she was just plain dying to see him
again, be with him. While glad she had been able to help her
cousin, she still felt a little short-changed for her own summer,
her own engagement, the only one she would have.

She planned to stay married to one man for
life, believing in the old until-death-do-us-part words. She was
not a green young girl, infatuated by love's first breath, but a
mature woman, sure in herself, confident in the love she felt for
Mac Mackenzie. Still, it would have been nice to have had a normal
engagement. She didn't even know when he wanted to get married!
There had been no long walks together, just the two of them; no
intimate dinners; no time to really get to know each other. She
smiled, remembering he had said he only had fifty years left. Would
it be enough? She doubted it.

Hurry, she urged the bus, just as she had
once urged a big jet. This time it was for herself. Hurry.
Hurry.

As they drew near, drew close to the river
called Mokelumne, Amanda sat on the edge of her seat. It was with
growing pleasure she recognized landmarks now. Soon, very soon,
they'd be there.

Yes, here was the bridge. Soon they'd turn
left, take that road to the fairground. She was sure of the
directions, Miss Burke had been specific. There, that's where it
was. Hurry.

Sam pulled the big bus into the gravel
parking area by the fairground, swinging wide around the cars
already parked, slowing for the pedestrians in the lot. Amanda was
surprised at the number of people there, already working getting
things ready. Already visiting with friends and neighbors. The
concession stands were being erected; tables and tents for the arts
and crafts section being set up. In the distance, volley-ball nets
were being strung; iron stakes pounded in for horseshoes.

Sam skillfully maneuvered the big bus close
to the portable stage erected on the grass at the far end of the
field, near the parking lot. As the bus lumbered along, crunching
gravel, spurting dust from beneath its wheels, heads turned,
speculation ran riot. Several people wandered near the vehicle,
then a few more. When Sam finally stopped and opened the door, one
bold teenager approached.

'Is this for Amanda, the country singer?'

'Sure is, miss,' he answered cheerfully,
giving her a big grin as he climbed down the bus.

'Riverboat Gambler Amanda?' called
another.

Sam smiled and nodded.

'Oh, wow!'

The word began to spread.

Dave, Joe and the others quickly joined Sam
and fell into their routine, to set up as they did for all the
shows, unloading equipment, putting it in place on the stage.
Stringing electric cable, connectors. Testing the instruments, the
amplifiers. More and more people were drawn to watch, some to stake
claims to good seats, others to speculate with friends as they kept
a watchful eye on the activities.

Amanda hung back, remained in the bus. She
was not usually a part of this. Her job came later, during the
show. For now she was free to stay in the bus, her eyes searching
the parking lot for a beat-up old gray pick-up truck. She fairly
seethed with impatience. Where was he?

Her hair was clean, shiny and newly trimmed.
It waved and curled around her face, framing it softly, catching
highlights in the sun. She wore a silver outfit, fringed and
embroidered, remembering he had said the color would suit her. Her
make-up was on, she was ready. Where was Mac? It was after ten.
Where was he?

She saw the truck, just turning into the
parking lot, driving slowly towards the bus. Her heart lodged in
her throat. Mac. She scrambled from the bus, eager to meet him. She
had missed him so!

'Amanda, can I have your autograph?' One
girl, leaning against the bus,jumped in front of her, thrust a
paper and pencil in her face. 'I'm so excited to meet you. I can't
wait to hear you sing. I didn't know you were the main attraction.
Boy, am I glad I came to the festival this year.'

'Can I have your autograph, too?' another
asked.

'Me, too?' still another clamored.

There were a dozen or more young people
surrounding her, exclaiming their happiness at her being at the
festival, smiling shyly at the famous star in their midst. Eager to
gain her attention, to obtain the personal favor of an autograph.
And impeding her progress.

Smiling, Amanda signed each request,
impatience seething within her, outwardly serene and at ease with
the group, answering questions, writing what was asked of her. She
was where she was in the industry today because of her fans. She
would be gracious, and patient and smiling and ...

There, the last one signed. With a smile all
round, she moved eagerly to the pick-up.