to be released until my blood gases are back to normal. Then I need some in-home care. Told him I’m feeling better and I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” Webb Francis said.
“Sure, but everyone needs a hand from time to time. That’s easily taken care of,” Kirk said. “Just let me know when to come get you.”
“Still gonna be a few days.” Webb Francis tapped the refolded letter against the sheets. He studied her for a moment, then said, “Angelica, you could stay in my house until I get back. Save B&B expenses at Sally Ann’s. I got a couple of empty bedrooms. Pick the one you like. When I’m better, we can discuss what I can or can’t do for you.”
She flicked a glance at Kirk. What would he think of his friend offering the use of his house to a virtual stranger?
From his frown, Kirk was not in favor of the idea. But he said nothing.
“When you come home, maybe I could help out a bit,” she said. She’d love to learn as much as she could from the man. Until he returned home, she’d talk to some of the residents of Smoky Hollow to find out about the old music. From what her professor had said, music was well represented in the hamlets of Kentucky.
“We’ll see.” The older man looked at Kirk then Angelica. “Show her around for me, Kirk, will you? And introduce her to Dottie and Tommy. They know lots of the old songs. Tommy plays the dulcimer, you know. And Gina. She’ll be a help.”
Kirk hesitated a moment, then shrugged and nodded.
“Did you come on Kirk’s motorcycle?” Webb Francis asked Angelica.
She nodded. “First time I’ve ever been on one,” she confided.
Kirk grinned. “Best way to see Kentucky,” he said.
It must be a private joke because Webb Francis laughed at Kirk’s comment. “You take care of my guest until I get there, you heah? Show her around. Make sure she has everything she needs.”
“I hear. I’ll make sure she gets the royal treatment.” He looked at her while he said it.
Angelica felt every cell in her body come to attention. She wasn’t sure she liked that idea. She’d rather not spend a lot of time around this disturbing man. How was she to get anything done? She’d never felt this strong attraction before. Most of her dates had been with men more interested in being seen with a rising star than in developing deep personal relationships. Not that she dated much. Schooling and then practice had taken a huge priority in her life. She wasn’t comfortable about her reaction to Kirk. Hopefully it would fade in the next ten minutes—or sooner.
The two men chatted for a few minutes. She stepped back and watched, fascinated by the peek into their lives through their conversation about people they both knew. Most of her friends were musicians. From the comments made, Webb Francis and Kirk had a wide assortment of friends. She listened wistfully, fascinated.
“What about the music festival?” Webb Francis asked at one point.
“It’ll all come together,” Kirk said.
The topic piqued Angelica’s interest. “What music festival?” she asked.
“The last weekend of August we have a big musical festival with folks coming from all over the state. We play, sing, dance. That’s one event you don’t want to miss,” Webb Francis said. “There’ll be a couple of impromptu gatherings before then, I expect. Rehearsals, sort of. Usually happens throughout the summer. Kirk, see what you can get going. Then Angelica can play for us.”
Kirk nodded, looking at her. “Play that fiddle you carry around, huh?”
“It’s a violin. A very old and valuable one,” she said with some asperity. A fiddle indeed.
“Same thing,” Webb Francis said. “I’ve got some sheet music in the little room off the living room. Find you some music so you can play at the festival,” he suggested.
She nodded, annoyed Kirk seemed amused at her defense of her violin. Obviously once away from the music world she was used to, she shouldn’t expect the same reverence she received in New York. Well, that’s what she wanted, more anonymity and less pressure. She couldn’t have it both ways.
In only a few moments, Kirk suggested they leave. Angelica could see Webb Francis was growing tired. Would he truly be up to returning home in a few days? She hoped so, but doubts began to grow.
As they walked out of the hospital, several people greeted Kirk—mostly women, Angelica noticed. Not that she blamed them. He looked even better today than when she’d first met him. The jeans were newer and fit like a glove. The shirt with the sleeves rolled back wasn’t as fitted as the T-shirt had been, but still showed off the perfect physique. His dark eyes seemed to notice everything, and the smile he gave when greeting people sent her heat index spiking.
“Need anything here before we return to Smoky Hollow?” he asked when they approached the motorcycle.
“How would I carry it if I did?” she asked.
“We’d manage.” He was looking at her with the same intensity. Those dark eyes seem to see right down into her soul.
She felt light-headed. Looking at the motorcycle, she drew in a breath.
“I’ll wait until I get to Smoky Hollow. If I’m really going to stay in Webb Francis’s house, I’ll need some food and things. The store there sells everything I’d need, right?”
“Pretty much. We’ll stop for lunch before heading home. All right with you?”
She nodded, interested in what she would see of Bryceville. Much more developed than Smoky Hollow and a larger town to boot, it was nothing like New York, but few places were. She was curious to see more.
By the time they reached Smoky Hollow in the midafternoon, Angelica’s head was swimming with new impressions and ideas. She had not, however, learned much about her guide. He’d driven through Bryceville pointing out landmarks. They’d eaten at a little café on a side street where everyone seemed to know Kirk and were friendly and welcoming when introduced to her. The ride back had been hot, the heat couldn’t be outrun and she was feeling limp when they stopped in front of the store.
“Stock up on what you need. I’ll be back and we’ll get your things from Sally Ann’s, then I’ll take you to Webb Francis’s place,” he said when she got off the bike.
Handing him her helmet, she eyed the bike. “On that?”
“I have a truck.”
She wondered why they hadn’t taken the truck into Bryceville. But she merely nodded. “Thank you, I appreciate that. This is such a small town, once I’m settled, I’m sure I can walk everywhere.”
“Pretty much.” He pushed back, then took off.
The two permanent fixtures on the porch asked her how she’d liked Bryceville.
“Very nice,” she replied as she passed to enter the store. She’d heard people in small towns knew everybody’s business. What a novelty that was. She didn’t know all the neighbors in her apartment floor and she’d lived there three years.
Stepping
