Bluebells on the Hill

by Barbara McMahon

  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.

  A feeling of deja vu. Mac leaning against the side, arms crossed, face angered. Amanda's heart sank. She didn't blame him for being angry, there was a lot she had never told him. What a way for him to find it out, too, just arrive and be slapped in the face with the big bus, the crowds, all the things he had never suspected about her. She wished more than ever that she had
told him of her career, or why she was spending the summer incognito. Their time had been cut short.

  He hated deceit, he had been very clear about that the day of the picnic in the big clearing. She would have to give a good presentation of why she had not told him initially who she was, what she did. But later. Now she was so very glad to see him; wasn't he glad to see her?

  'Hi, Mac.' She stopped close to him, tilting her head back to smile so happily up at him, shocked at the glittering green eyes, the lines of disapproval and anger deep set.

  'The famous Amanda deigned to visit the mountain yokels one more time. A triumphant return, I might add.'

  'I can explain ...' she began. Oh, oh, it looks like explanations must come now, not later.

  'Save your lies Amanda. I have been fooled before and God help me it looks as if I have been again.'

  'No.'

  Mac stood up, towering above her, anger emanating from every inch of him. 'What a fun summer, have a fling with some gullible local, then high-tail it back to Los Angeles and your lover there when things start turning serious here. Well, serious is off, now. You've had your fun and I've had mine. I should have taken more when I had the chance, but we're even now, and quits!'

  'No, Mac, please listen.' Amanda was scared. She put a tentative hand on his arm. Had she ruined everything by her desire for secrecy, by her wish to be just plain Mandy Smith for a summer? He had to listen. Then he would understand. He had to!

  He glanced at her hand in disgust, shaking it off.

  'Next time, pretend a little more, Amanda. At least tell the guy once that you love him, even though it will be a lie, too.'

  'I do. It's not a lie. Mac, listen to me.' She was close to tears; he could not be so implacable that he wouldn't even listen to her.

  'I've heard it all before, Mandy, from Liza,' he ground out, turned and stalked away, back rigid with disapproval, visage black.

  Amanda started to follow, but was again impeded then blocked by more fans clamoring for autographs, for a word from her. As her identity spread, more and more of Timber's residents came over, some for pictures and one or two that she knew to speak to her. The girl who had been so friendly in the drugstore came over. 'Fancy you being so famous. I don't think we'll call it Cora's house much longer.'

  Amanda laughed with her, though her eyes scanned the crowds, trying to locate Mac. Her heart was breaking. How could she have been so stupid not to find a moment to tell him.

  Martin Roberts came up to her, reminiscing about the day she bought Cora's house. Pam Haversham joined them, then Elizabeth Burke and, lastly, John-Michael. Elizabeth spoke first.

  'My dear, John-Michael tells me you’re quite famous, that it is quite a feather in our cap to have you for our festival. I'm so pleased, but I'm sorry I didn't realize it before. We are indebted to you for joining us today.'

  'I'm glad to do it, Elizabeth. I still plan to make Timber my home. I want to contribute to my home town's events, too. If it's something people like, all the better.'

  John-Michael gave her a quick hug, much to the amazement of the onlookers. 'Glad to see you, Mom,' he teased.

  Amanda threw him an anguished look. 'I'm not sure it's still on. Your dad's so mad at me.'

  'Mac? Nonsense. He'll be delighted to find out who you are and that the festival has such outstanding talent today. He'll like it when he sees all we have done,' Elizabeth said firmly. 'I'm so glad he came this year.'

  Amanda smiled, nodding.

  'John-Michael, why did you call her Mom?' Pam Haversham asked, picking up on his words.

  He looked questioningly at Amanda, then grinned at Pam. 'I guess they're announcing it today. Dad's asked her to marry him.' John-Michael grinned proudly.

  Elizabeth stared at them, first one, then the other, mouth agape. Finally summoning her wits she said, 'I never thought I'd see the day. Welcome to the family, child. Good gracious!' Miss Burke was bereft of words, as she gave Amanda a tight hug.

  'Well, I'm surprised,' Pam added. 'Best wishes and all that!' She hugged Amanda as well.

  ‘Thanks, Pam, I...'

  Questions were asked, which Mandy fielded as best she could. She and John-Michael strolled through the exhibits. He proudly introduced her to everyone of his friends. They grabbed a hotdog and before Mandy knew it, it was almost two.

  'Time for a last minute check, Mandy,' Dave called from the bus as they were returning.

  Excusing herself with a promise to join John-Michael after the show, she hurried to the bus.

  'Where's the happy groom?' Dave asked, scanning the crowds much as Amanda had earlier. His beard was trimmed for the show, his cowboy outfit ornate with silver and embroidery.

  'Flaming angry with me,' she replied, climbing into the bus.

  Briefly, while she refreshed her make-up, she explained. While her cousin disliked the thought of her living so far away from the action, he understood her desire to marry the one whom she thought would bring her as much happiness as his Evie brought him.

  'I'll talk to him, if you like,' Dave offered when she had finished.

  'I can't use a go-between all my life. Thanks anyway. I'll just hunt him up after the show and make him listen to me. I have some rights in this too, you know,' she said spiritedly.

  'Show time.' Joe popped his head in.

  Taking a deep breath, Amanda gave a dazzling smile. 'I'm ready.'

  The day was warm, the sun shone in a cloudless sky, a gentle breeze kept the air temperate. There were people milling around, some playing the games at the far end of the field. Many were still eating, enjoying the festive atmosphere, enjoying the camaraderie of their friends and neighbors in this, the last big community event before the inclement weather forced people to keep indoors.

  The majority of the town, however, was seated on the benches and chairs set up for the entertainment event or sprawled on blankets spread for the best view of the stage.

  Amanda and Dave walked together to the steps at the rear of the portable stage. The disjointed twang of guitars being tuned, of amplifiers being adjusted, could be heard over the noise of the crowd. Amanda paused, feeling the surge of adrenalin that preceded performances. She loved it. The excitement, the challenge of bringing pleasure and entertainment to hundreds of people. All through the gift of music that had been given to her.

  She knew she was fortunate in her chosen field. A lot of luck went into their achieving stardom, and in such a relatively short time, less than ten years. Still, they all had worked hard to be where they were, Dave, Sam, Joe, Marc, and Phil. They were a team and she would never want to give it up, not completely.

  If she married Mac; no, she lifted her chin, when she married Mac, she would curtail some of the traveling, but not all. She loved it too much to quit. He would have to take this part of her as well as the rest of her. This career had contributed to making her the person she was today, the one he had asked to marry him.

  She heard the opening music, mounted the stairs and burst out into view to the thunderous applause of the citizens of Timber. Taking the microphone from Dave with a bright smile, she launched immediately into the first song, 'Riverboat gambler, you take too many chances...’

  The applause rose as the audience expressed their approval, drowning out the first few lines, then died away as everyone settled back to enjoy familiar songs performed by a top professional.

  Amanda did her best for her new town, her band backing her to the limit. As she sang, joyfully, with great enthusiasm, she let her eyes browse through the crowd, recognizing people here and there; a committee member she had met at Elizabeth's; the old man from the bus depot; John-Michael. With a small shock she saw Mac seated beside his son, his aunt on his other side. His hat was pulled low, shading his features. Her eyes passed on. Sally Sutherland and her father were on the far side of Elizabeth; Pam and Ron Haversham back towards the rear of the crowd.

  When she finished her first song she moved right into Heartbroken Dreamer... another popular song. And then
another. And another.

  When the series ended, the band became quiet. Amanda, smiling brightly, waited for the applause to die down, then spoke to the crowd.

  'Happy Labor Day.' She smiled again as the people clapped, whistled, yelled back. It was an exuberant group. Easy to please, warm and friendly.

  'Thank you for your warm welcome. We're glad to be here.'

  Again she had to pause, happiness and goodwill welling up inside her at the enthusiastic reception.

  'I'd like to introduce everyone up here to you. As a lot of you already know, we're a family group. Didn't plan on it, it just happened. We all grew up together in a little town outside Durango, in Colorado. Played together, ventured forth together. And, here we are. On the drums, cousin Sam Perkins, on Mama's side, you know. Bass guitar, Phil Perkins, Sam's brother. Rhythm guitar, Joe Williams, Mama's side again. Electric piano, Marc Johnson. Mama’s part of a large family.'

  The crowd, applauding after each introduction, roared with laughter.

  'My main man, manager, promoter, dearest friend and cousin, on Daddy's side, Dave Smith.'

  Amanda waited for silence before continuing.

  'As some of you know, I moved to Timber a few months ago, bought Cora Rosefeld's old place. I figure in fifty years or so you will call it Mandy's old place, or old Mandy's place, by then ... Timber's a grand place to live ...'

  The crowd would not let her continue, they showed their approval in a thunderous round.

  'And ... I have written a few songs since I've been here. I want to share them with you. If they bomb out, maybe as neighbors, you'll let me down easy.'

  She nodded to Dave and, when the clapping diminished, the music started.

  'Bluebells on the hill, nodding in the hot Sierra sun ...' She sang the song she'd first written, in the early days of her life in Timber, to an enthusiastic response. She followed it with the second one she had done. Moving into a duet with Dave, a slow ballad, then song after song made famous over the last five years. All were recognized, liked, popular. The program ran far, far longer than Elizabeth's estimated hour, but no one seemed anxious for it to end.