by Lynn Donovan
"I-um-I—"
"No. I think that's... amazing! How? How do you see music?"
A slight smile just curled at the corner of her lips. "Colors. I see colors like a thin ribbon of rainbow light." Should she go on? He seemed all right with the information so far. She plunged ahead. "It rises from the piano strings and" —She swirled her hands above her head— "dances, blending and turning, it's beautiful, actually."
She watched his eyes to see if he understood. When he didn't look disgusted or incredulous, she went on. "It's how I help..." She swallowed hard. "Helped my papa tune pianos. I can tell by the logical transition of color whether the string is well tuned or way off." She fought the grief that suddenly flooded her heart.
Joseph stared at her. He pulled her into his chest and held her tight. She refused to cry. But the warmth of his embrace melted her resolve and the tears flowed.
"I'm sorry." She pulled back wiping her eyes.
He smiled kindly. "Tell me about this logical transition of color?" He leaned toward her, truly interested in her story.
She cleared the tears from her throat. "Color has a logical transition, red goes to orange as it goes to yellow. Yellow goes to green as it goes to blue and blue goes to purple as it goes to red. There are a thousand variations between all that but they always have a logical order and if that order is out of place, then I know the note is sharp or flat, depending on which way the color is off."
He blinked. "That's fascinating! Do you see that with all music?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like with a fiddle, would you see those colors?"
"I don't know. I've never seen a fiddle played."
"Really? Well, let's fix that right away. I'll be right back. Tell Chance, what I mean to say is, tell Mr. Redburn, I'll be back and to plan for a shindig tonight!" His smile made his eyes twinkle.
She loved the one crooked tooth that showed when his lips parted. "Do you have to leave now?"
He took both her hands into his and pulled her to her feet. "I'm just going home to get my fiddle and brothers, and I'll be back. Promise." He leaned close to her face and brushed her cheek with his lips.
The spot on her cheek tingled. Her heart pounded so hard she thought her chest would break from the inside out. She felt tremendous pressure at her ears. Was this what love felt like?
She leaned on the post and watched him trot to his horse and ride away. Suddenly fear shot through her. What if that was just an excuse? What if revealing her deepest secret had repulsed him and he was actually running away.
What had she done?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Redburn stood on the porch with his second finger and thumb at the corners of his mouth. Dumpling sat up beside Myrakle's rocking chair, heavily panting. All the couples moved toward Mr. Redburn. He must have whistled the way Jasmine had complained. Myrakle remained seated, watching Redburn talk to the couples. They all looked at each other and then at her.
She put her foot down to stop the rocker. "What?"
Jasmine stepped closer to her. "Mr. Redburn said your Joseph Penella was coming back with his two brothers and some fiddles. We're gonna have ourselves a dance! And he said we can wait until then to choose our beaus."
"That's good, right?" Myrakle just wasn't sure.
"Yes. That's good. And if your Joseph Penella's got two brothers, that just might be even better." She laughed. "Come on, let's go fix our hair and get dressed for the dance."
Beans and Mr. Redburn headed to the library. The suitors followed them to help move furniture and clear the room for a dance. The girls all piled upstairs and scattered to their bedrooms. They had just as much work ahead of them to get gussied up for a shindig.
The house quieted to anxious anticipation as the girls hid away in their rooms, preparing for the dance. The hall to the bedrooms filled with perfumes and chitter chatter. Myrakle gratefully borrowed Jasmine's second favorite ballroom gown. It was perfect for Myrakle's red hair. An emerald silk gown with black embroidered rose vines. The scoop neck bodice crested with a delicate cream lace that cascaded over her shoulders like a relaxed angel's wing. She stood back from the oval mirror, dazed by the beauty of the dress. Never in her life had she worn such an elaborate gown.
"Thank you," she breathed.
Jasmine peeked from behind Myrakle. Tears pooled in her eyes too. "You are so beautiful. Now, sit down, let's do something with your fiery red hair."
Myrakle obeyed and sat on the stool in front of the vanity table. Jasmine lifted strands of her hair, brushed it across her palm, and then proceeded to twist and braid, pin and tuck. When she stood back to admire her work, Myrakle turned her head to see both sides.
Jasmine was an artist!
Gentle wispy curls framed her temples, her hair billowed into a soft roll away from her face and tucked into the lovely scallops and braids that nested at her crown. A single spiral draped from behind her ear to cascade across her bare shoulder.
"Oh. Jasmine. It's beautiful!"
"Now. Do me!" Jasmine shoved her hip into Myrakle, causing her to fall from the stool.
"I don't know how!"
"It's easy. I'll guide you." Jasmine gave Myrakle step by step instructions and Myrakle did her best to make Jasmine's hair as lovely as her own. In the end, it wasn't bad. Now all they had to do was wait for the beaus to return. They scuttled to the library to wait.
Pushing the double doors aside, Myrakle gasped. "Oh my goodness!"
A table had been pushed up to the book shelves and covered with a white linen cloth. Muffins and cookies, finger-sized meat pies, and sandwiches, with the crust cut away and sliced into triangles, were arranged neatly on platters. For being a chuck wagon cook, this spread was very impressive. A bowl of peach-tea punch sat at one end with little crystal cups ready to fill. Myrakle leaned over the punch and inhaled the fruity aroma. It was warm too. "How did he—"
Myrakle turned to find Beans standing with his hands folded over his apron. He looked pleased as a rooster. "Mr. McGruder! It's beautiful!"
"So are you, Miss Myrakle." She felt a flood of heat fill her face. "Miss Jasmine loaned me her dress and did my hair." She toyed with the curl over her shoulder.
"Well, you're the prettiest princess at the ball." He smiled.
"Hey!" Jasmine entered the room. "What about me?" She laughed.
"You too, Miss Jasmine." He bowed and excused himself. "I've got other chores to attend to 'fore evenin'."
More girls poured into the library. Gasps and sighs expressing the same surprise at the transformation. Myrakle made her way to the piano. She gathered up her skirt, and eased onto the bench, placing her feet on the pedals and her hands on the keys. She gently played a melody that looked soft and soothing. She especially loved the way the sound looked when she depressed the pedal and blended the notes.
The girls gathered behind her, swaying to the rhythm as she continued to play.
Suddenly, the crowd behind her ran off toward the parlor. Myrakle's heart leapt and slammed against her ribs. Was Joseph back? She turned, gathering her ballroom skirt, and slid off the bench. She floated into the parlor, searching for her beau. Would he react to her gown the way Beans had? Several men whom she had seen earlier milled around, even poor Rafe Adams. The girls sat demurely chatting with the fellas. Myrakle smiled awkwardly at Rafe and moved to search for Maybe-Joseph.
But Joseph Penella or anyone who might look like him, such as his brothers, was not among them. Her heart plummeted. This pretty dress and all these pretty curls in her hair were for nothing. He wasn't coming back. It had been a ruse to get away from her. She was hideous! Her dead-pan voice! Why would anyone want to marry someone as broken as she?
Tears stung her eyes, she gathered the silky skirt of the useless, lovely ballroom gown and turned to run upstairs. She slammed, face first, into someone's chest. He held something over his head. She blinked, trying to regain her composure and stepped back.
"I'm so sor— Maybe-Joseph!"
<
br /> Joseph Penella held a violin and bow over his head, protecting it from clumsy oafs such as herself. Two cookie-cutter, look-a-lot-alikes stood behind him, one hefted a cello, the other a large violin, a viola, perhaps.
Myrakle blinked. "These must be your brothers?"
He gawked at her with disbelief in his eyes. His lips puckered. A thin, green-as-new-clover stream of light floated from his mouth. Had he whistled? She'd never seen sound come from a person's mouth before. His mouth moved. "Look at you!"
He swirled to the two behind him. "Oh yes. These are my brothers, Adam and Seth."
They dipped their heads in turn with Joseph's introduction.
"Please to meet you." Myrakle smiled. Her eyes followed Joseph who walked all the way around her. He was looking at her dress and hair from all sides. He returned to the spot in front of her.
"You look like a jewel from a queen's crown. My goodness." He stuck out his elbow, being careful not to poke her with the bow. "M'Lady, may I escort you to the ball?"
She put her hand in the bend and floated beside him to the library. He had come back. Her heart beat so hard she was sure he could hear it, feel it pulse at her wrist on his arm, see it pound against the lace at the top of her bodice. She almost felt woozy. Was this what love felt like?
Jasmine slipped up beside her. "Who are these gentlemen?"
Myrakle nodded her head toward the brothers. "These are Mr. Penella's brothers, Adam and Seth."
"Oh." Jasmine sidled up next to Seth. "I'm right pleased to meet you both."
Myrakle laughed as she entered the library beside Mr. Penella. He released her arm. "Excuse me just for one moment."
She watched him and his brothers move to a corner, next to the piano and set up their instruments. Ribbons of color floated from the strings as they tuned and prepared to play. She sat with her back to the piano and waited for Mr. Penella to signal her they were ready. In no time, he turned to her. "What shall we play?"
She shrugged. She'd never heard a song played or knew a specific song to play on the piano. She just played what looked pretty. "You play first and I'll play later."
He laid the violin under his chin, and agreed with a nod. He placed the bow on the strings and drew it slowly across one string. A pale blue drifted into the air. The men and women turned to the trio. Joseph Penella rocked the bow back and forth as he dragged it to and fro. A kaleidoscope of color danced from his gyrations.
Her sister brides were swept into suitors' arms and the couples danced around the room. Myrakle folded her hands against the soft silk of her gown and watched the harmonious dancing of color and people. It was so beautiful. Jasmine's red dress, Helena's lovely yellow, and Bert wore, not a ballroom gown, but more of a uniform dress of dark blue, but it was lovely in the mix of it all. Esperanza's dress was layer after layer of Spanish lace, and split in the front, occasionally exposing her leg up to the knee.
They swung past Myrakle as they danced, entangling with the rainbow of colors that swirled above their heads from the instruments. Myrakle swung her feet as she sat on the piano bench watching all the colors. This spectacle of color and lights, dresses and sound, was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. It almost made her sad to think she was the only one who could see it all. How could anybody think she was the one who was broken?
After what seemed like a few minutes, but was over an hour, the Penella brothers took a break. Joseph wiped sweat from his brow, with the back of his bow hand, and propped his instrument against the wall beside the piano. His brothers propped their instruments between the bookshelf and wall. Joseph extended his hand to Myrakle. "Walk with me?"
She let him take her hand to help her stand. Her heart fluttered and stole her breath. She paused to focus on breathing. Concern filled his eyes but she shook her head and let him pull her to her feet. They walked together toward the double doors.
Something happened behind her. Joseph suddenly let go of her hand and rushed toward the piano. She turned to see what the ruckus was about.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Poor Jasmine sat sprawled on the floor. She tugged at her hem, trying to cover her stockings. Painfully, she reared up and pulled Joseph's violin out from behind her billowy skirts. "Oh no!" Tears spilled over her cheeks. "Mr. Penella. I'm so sorry!" Her eyes met Myrakle's. "I tripped and I— I'm so sorry!" she sobbed.
Myrakle ran to her friend. Dumpling barked as he trotted at her side. "Are you alright?"
"Yes. I'm just so clumsy." She held out the two pieces of shattered violin up to Joseph, which was held together only by the strings. Jasmine broke down bawling. Dumpling stepped into her lap and licked her wet cheek.
Seth hurried to Jasmine. "Miss Hammond, let me help you." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and took her hand, gliding her to her feet. "May I get you some punch?"
"Yes. That would be nice." Jasmine sniffled and turned to Myrakle. "I'm so sorry. I-I don't know how, but I'll buy Mr. Penella a new violin."
Joseph smiled graciously. "These things happen, Miss Hammond. It's alright. I brought an extra fiddle in the wagon."
"You did?" Myrakle snapped her gaze to Joseph.
"You-you did?" Jasmine's eyes darted from Joseph to Myrakle "Why-why would you do that?"
Joseph turned to Myrakle. "I told you, my brother and I, we make these string instruments. It's a hobby."
"A hobby?" Myrakle made sense of what he was saying. "So... you can replace this one." She gestured to the broken violin in his hand. He held it up slightly, as if to prove his point. "Yes. No problem. I never liked the neck on this one, anyway."
Jasmine clung to Seth. Myrakle took Joseph's arm. Together the two couples walked out to the cool, evening air. A breeze swept across the porch. Myrakle closed her eyes against the welcomed drop in temperature. The library had turned quite warm with all the dancing. Joseph touched her arm. She lifted her eyes to meet his. "When we go back will you play for me?"
The cool breeze had no effect on the heat that now filled her face. She just nodded.
"So..." Joseph walked away from his brother, gently pulling Myrakle with him. "Tell me what it was like? Did you see the music from the instruments?"
"Yes!" Myrakle felt lighter. "It was beautiful. I wish you could see... what I see. It's like a kaleidoscope of color and ribbons, all intertwining together. And the girls dresses swirling as they dance." She drew in a deep breath. "Oh Mr. Penella. I do wish you could know how it looks."
He smiled. "Please don't call me Mr. Penella, what I mean to say is, call me Joseph. And, I'm just happy you can see it and tell me about it. You make it sound wonderful. That's enough for me. Uh, are you cold?"
She didn't even realize she had wrapped her arms around herself. "I guess I am."
He slipped his arm around her and held her close to his side. A thrill rippled through her and ended in her toes. She really was happy to have met this handsome, talented, kind man. What luck was upon her that Mr. Redburn had been late picking them up at the train depot. She wouldn't have met Mr. Pe— Joseph, and he wouldn't have come to court her.
"Let's go back inside, and I want to hear you play the piano."
Joy came from her heart to reach her lips, making a smile stretch her mouth. "I-I don't know any songs, actually. I just play what looks pretty."
"I can't wait to hear it." Joseph took her hand and placed it at his elbow. "Shall we?"
Jasmine and Seth followed behind Myrakle and Joseph as they walked directly to the piano. Dumpling turned in a circle three times and settled beside the bench. Suddenly, her nerves buzzed like a hornet's nest. She'd never played in front of this many people in her life. Usually it was just her and Papa. An apprentice, maybe. But not this many—
She swallowed and eased onto the bench. Her heart pounded against her chest as she spread her fingers on top of the black and white keys. She pressed down and watched the swirls of color blend and twist above the back of the piano. Joseph moved out of her peripheral.
Was the sound hor
rible? His family was truly gifted with the ability to play several instruments. The couples had enjoyed the sound they blended. Even Beans had clapped his hands and stomped his foot to the music they had played. Had she been fooled all this time into thinking what she was doing made a pleasant tune?
She glanced over her shoulder. The Penella brothers had returned to their spot next to the piano and were playing their respective instruments. A beautiful ribbon of color swooped and blended with the ones coming from the piano. They were accompanying her. But how? She wasn't playing anything specific. Joseph smiled at her, his chin pressed into the rest on the butt of the violin. He winked and drew his bow across the strings.
What a miracle! Their music was a miracle.
She was playing, making a beautiful rainbow of ribbons and they were accompanying her, making harmony like she'd never seen. The array of colors was dazzling. Brilliant. Unbelievable. Had she died and gone to heaven?
She returned his smile and turned back to watch their music dance toward the ceiling. A blending of the souls and talents to make this beautiful mix so unique and so special. This had to be what love was like.
Myrakle completed the music with a heavy and wide spread depression of keys. The girls and their beaus applauded wildly. Even Joseph and his brothers applauded. Joseph rushed to her side. "That was the most beautiful music we ever played. No, that was a miracle."
She heaved for breath and grinned big as pie. The playing had worn her out. "My thoughts exactly."
He sat on the bench beside her. "I'd really love to bring you out to the ranch and show you where we make our fiddles and such. That is to say, I hope you'll come."
Her smile widened. She darted her eyes to Mr. Redburn who leaned against a door post. He looked very pleased with their performance. She'd caught a glimpse of him dancing with Violet. The one he kept saying there was a mistake, but he'd fix it. No one knew what the mistake was or why he needed to fix it. But tonight had been so magical, even their anxious host had appeared to have a good time. "Well, I... suppose I can. Long as we have an escort."