Ethan slid his shades on before pulling out onto the street. “One of our members on the worship team will be out for the next few weeks. I was really hoping you’d step in. You’re good on the piano. Much better than I am. Would you, please?”
Stephen’s shoulders dropped. Playing in a… church? He groaned and rested his head back on the seat. “Oh man, seriously?” Anything but that! Too late now to back out. With a reluctant nod, Stephen breathed out, “Sure. I’m there.”
Chapter Eight
“Yes!” Bekka pushed away from the big computer at the barn, pleased she’d finally organized all the scenes into a logical flowing order. Now she only needed to begin adding a bit of enchantment with a few special effects. She twisted to the right, then the left popping the kinks from her back. Through the tall glass windows at the front of the barn, the Victorian inn was swamped with traffic. Cars parked along both sides of the street on the dirt shoulder. Ethan had even opened part of the fence so people could park in the field between their houses.
She bet Haley’s small crew, which included her brother, were hopping around like crazy to take care of that crowd.
Bob Beaty promised her a chance to capture some stunning sunset pictures out on the lake in his newly restored boat. The weather was perfect with a line of scattered clouds hanging low in the western sky. Maybe she should cancel the boating trip and postpone for another day.
Haley might appreciate the extra help.
No, Ethan would have twin calves, as Haley liked to say, if she canceled her so-called date to work at the restaurant. He’d call her rude names and tell her they could handle whatever came their way.
Stubborn bonehead.
But tonight was nothing more than a couple of friends going out on a boat. Yes, alone, but that did not make it a date. It was just a short excursion. A chance to take pictures. Bekka rubbed her sweaty palms along the hips of her jeans.
Whatever she might want to call it, time was wasting, and she needed to get ready. She glanced down at her jeans and striped sweater and decided to make do instead of fighting her way back to her room through that mess of diners. She could use the upstairs restroom to freshen up in. The one downstairs didn’t have working water yet.
Maybe Ethan had a jacket she could borrow in case the temperatures dropped while she was out on the lake.
As she started for the stairs leading to the loft, she hesitated. Where was Stephen this evening? He certainly hadn’t volunteered to help at the restaurant. And he hadn’t boasted about any dates in the last couple of weeks.
Matter-of-fact, when she’d seen him earlier this afternoon, he was complaining of a headache and had soon disappeared. Maybe he was in his room, napping.
She’d have to be extra quiet to not wake him if that were the case. Her feet moved upward taking each step with extra care until she reached the top landing, a narrow walkway between the two bedrooms. Which, unfortunately, shared the bathroom.
The first door belonged to her brother. She turned the knob and peeked in to make sure all was clear. Then she checked the bathroom. The door to Stephen’s side was closed. Tip-toeing across the small room, she turned the lock so he couldn’t come barging in. For good measure, she also locked the bedroom door.
She made quick work of washing her face and running a brush through her thick brown hair. She tied it back into a pony-tail so the wind on the lake wouldn’t turn her natural wavy hair into a rat’s nest.
Once done with freshening up, she turned the little lock on Stephen’s door, then rushed out of the bathroom, making sure to close Ethan’s side.
Dumping her bag on the edge of her brother’s perfectly made bed, she checked her gear. Camera: check. Zoom: check. Extra batteries: check. Everything looked in order.
If Bekka were honest with herself, she hadn’t looked forward to anything as much as she anticipated going out tonight—the chance to enjoy an evening away from her project. A chance to do something she loved. A chance to be with someone who wouldn’t pester her with probing questions about her future plans, or sullen looks that ripped her heart to shreds.
Though, the other day while she was out with Haley, she had found a possibility. A quaint corner store. Perhaps a photography business? If only taking stationary pictures of families with stilted grins didn’t feel like settling. She could do that and still take her nature photographs. She could even still film videos for her brother. That was, if he actually wanted to make more after this. Not to mention if he was able to actually get his recording studio going.
Too many ifs, if she said so herself.
She found her makeup bag. Wouldn’t hurt to fix her face up a little. Some blush and lipstick. She dumped the contents onto his dresser, wondering when her brother had become such a clean freak. He used to throw his clothes in a heap on the floor. The bed made? Never. And if she remembered correctly, nearly every flat surface was usually cluttered with magazines, music books, and journals.
He certainly had changed a lot in his time away from home.
Bekka checked her makeup one more time in the dusty mirror. He still hadn’t learned what a duster or vacuum was, had he? Stepping back, she gave herself the once over.
“It’ll have to do. I’m just going out there to take pictures.” Bob was a nice guy. Funny with his stories about odd things he’d seen people use to fix a car engine. Duct tape, though useful, would not patch up a leaky radiator or keep a broken wiper from snapping completely off.
He didn’t even smell like oil or car grease as she’d expect a mechanic would.
Her sweater was good for a cool afternoon. She would definitely need to bring something warmer for while she was out on the water.
Opening the closet door, she paused a moment, wondering who had taken all Ethan’s clothes. Maybe Stephen was too lazy to do laundry and had come over to raid his friend’s wardrobe. But no, Stephen was a couple of sizes larger than her trim brother.
She pushed aside the threadbare t-shirts and torn jeans he wore while fixing up the barn, or working outside, but where was his leather jacket? Or that nice wool cream colored sweater he’d worn the other day? There weren’t even enough clothes to get him through the whole week. Maybe this was his laundry day.
One particular quality her brother had was a good fashion sense. He liked to dress nice and often wore vests or ties over his button shirts. None of those items were there.
“Humm, where’s all your good stuff, little bro?”
Perhaps she’d been wrong about him being a neat freak. More than likely he’d worn everything and had dumped them into some corner. She stepped out of the closet and checked the floor around his bed. He never wore anything more than once. That sweater couldn’t be too dirty.
The wood floors were completely clean, except for a few dust mites he needed to sweep up. Mr. Too-Good-To-Sweep.
Bekka bit her bottom lip. What a mystery. She glanced around the sparse room, the wood-paneled walls bare of his pictures or music awards. Nothing adorned the nightstand except his old Bible that he no longer carried to church, and the lamp. Had he not bothered to unpack any of his belongings? That wasn’t like him.
Stephen’s accusations came back to her. “He hasn’t slept in his room two nights this week.”
No way. There was a more logical explanation. Then the most sensible reason finally came.
Of course, his photos and awards might be kept at Haley’s, away from the construction dust. She’d never been invited into her future sister-in-law’s private quarters, except for the office where they both were often found working on business stuff, or watching a movie on a Sunday afternoon. She turned toward the dresser and opened one of the long drawers to find only a few undergarments and a couple pairs of holey socks.
The drawer easily slammed closed. She refused to admit Stephen might be right, but something was certainly up.
“Do not let Stephen’s… assumptions… drag you in.” She sighed and piled her makeup back into the small cloth case. Zipping the
top, she shook her head, having to give Stephen Gaines a little credit. Over the past week, he’d worked hard to help Ethan around the property, and she hadn’t caught him smoking once. That familiar stench no longer hung around him like a foggy cloud.
She checked her watch. Time was running away from her. Returning to the closet, she found a flannel jacket in decent condition. She tied it around her waist. The inside was lined and would keep her warm if the temperatures dropped once the sun went down. Not that she planned to stay on the lake after dark.
Bekka swung the closet door closed. “This is none of your business. It’s Ethan’s life.” She shook her head, still finding it perplexing.
Tossing the bag into her tote, she checked her reflection one more time. She hated the disappointment that filled her heart. Ethan always gave her hope that there were still decent men out there if she’d just be patient and wait.
Truth of the matter was, she had no room to worry about Ethan or anyone else’s life while hers hung in oblivion.
A part of her would like to stay and maybe open a photography shop. Another part desired to wander the world and photograph places as she’d done while on mission trips with her church. But she couldn’t imagine traveling alone. Though she enjoyed working with the church missions, it didn’t stir her like music stirred her brother.
Mom encouraged her to find her passion. She didn’t even know where to start looking. Taking photographs of beautiful things sent her heart spinning like an autumn leaf on a playful breeze. Making this video had opened new stirrings in her, but she was sure in the end the video would come off amateurish at best.
Taking pictures of birds and foggy fields was fine, but it wasn’t providing her with a real living.
Her phone message chimed. Bob wanted to know if he should pick her up at the Bed and Breakfast. She answered that she was over at the barn, and she’d meet him out front on the deck. When she opened the bedroom door, music drifted up from the piano downstairs.
Ethan was working at the inn.
Her stomach lurched. That meant she’d have to face Stephen before leaving on her date. Why should that bother her? Goodness knew he went out with anything in a skirt. But since they’d had that little altercation the day they’d made the video, Stephen hadn’t gone out at all.
No, he’d been practically under her feet every evening, it seemed.
Maybe he really was serious about turning his life around?
She’d not hold her breath.
Straightening her shoulders, she marched down the stairs. By the time she reached the landing, her steps slowed. That song… was strangely familiar. Not one she thought Stephen even knew, or would stoop to play.
“Lead Me to the Cross?” she asked, stopping beside the upright.
He was wearing reading glasses which made her smile. When did he start needing those? Flipping the music book around, he gave a nod. “Yep, that’s what it says. Ethan roped me into filling a spot on the band at his church. Guess I’m not doing as bad as I feared if you recognized the melody.”
Bekka leaned against the side of the old piano, letting her tote bag slide off her shoulders as she set it near her feet. “It’s one of my favorites.”
When they were kids, Mom paid for her to take lessons along with Ethan, but they quickly realized she simply didn’t have any musical talent and was often too distracted by the sunshine outside the window. Daddy said childhood was too short to force a kid to do things they absolutely hated. He taught her how to fish and shoot a hunting rifle instead. She eventually found out she loved the outdoors but enjoyed using a camera to shoot pictures more than anything else.
Stephen flipped through the pages with a shake of his head. “Where do these songs come from anyway?” He tapped his finger on the music sheet. “Like this one, You hem me in… you’ve laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me…” He waved his hands in mock excitement, “too lofty for me to attain.”
Bekka bit her bottom lip, reminding herself that he wasn’t brought up like they were. “Most of the songs the worship team plays come from scripture.”
His brow cocked. “Oh, the Bible. Right?”
“Right.” She pointed to the song. “This is from Psalm 139. Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go to the heavens, you are there.” She recited from memory. “Follow along in the verses. If I make my bed in the depths, you are there…Your hand will guide me.”
He took the music book and read it over.
“God is everywhere. There isn’t anywhere we can go to get away from Him. He keeps us safe in His hands, guiding, protecting, we don’t have to be alone. In the Bible, it goes on about how He knit us together and knows us better than anyone ever will. Psalm 139. I dare you to read the whole thing through. At least once.”
“Well, maybe He cares for some people, but I don’t think He has much time for… never mind.”
“He cares about you, too. If you’d just give Him a chance.”
“Maybe.” Stephen scooted over on the long bench and patted the spot beside him. “Please help me. I don’t recognize any of these tunes. Tell me if I’m playing them right.” A pack of spearmint gum sat on the top board. He removed a stick and popped it into his mouth that already had a large wad going. A pile of empty wrappers lay crumpled around the pack.
She bit back a smile and checked her gold wristwatch. “I have a few minutes.”
His pale brows cocked over his blues. “You helping Ethan tonight?”
“No.” She eased onto the bench, trying to keep a few inches between them. But it didn’t stop his arm from constantly bumping into her as he ran over the keys.
“This really needs a tune up.” He peered over the narrow lenses as he asked, “So what are you doing tonight, lady?”
Why was she having a hard time telling him? She hoped the heat causing sweat to break out around her neck hadn’t crept up her face. “I’m going out on a boat. To take some pictures of the sunset. I can add them to my website.”
His fingers stopped moving. “You have a website? Why didn’t I know about that? What kind of site?”
“I offer camera tips and talk about how to get the best shots. Photography stuff. And a place to post my pictures. You wouldn’t find any of it interesting, I promise.” He always smelled like woodsy spices and soap. And she didn’t find the spearmint on his breath unpleasant, either. His elbow gently bumped against hers, sending gooseflesh down her arm. Darn him! She curbed the urge to roll her eyes at herself.
He continued to run his fingers over the keys. “I’ll look it up later. I had no idea.” He flipped to the beginning of the song. “Tell me how I’m doing.” And he began to play. She was able to follow the melody and soon was singing along.
Nothing lifted her spirits more than worship music. She wasn’t gifted at playing it, but oh, she loved to belt out the words and lose herself in the message. This one spoke of leaving everything at the cross. Letting go. Trusting God with her life. She swayed as she sang, and somehow the distance between them narrowed. Stephen’s fingers flew over the keys as he grew in confidence and his true skill begin to shine through.
She slightly leaned into him, remembering how the boys used to play music late into the night, while she sang the words. What grand times they enjoyed together before everything was ripped apart by Mr. and Mrs. Gaines’ divorce.
She had never intended to fall for her brother’s best friend, but the feeling, it turned out, was mutual. They made a pact to keep it a secret.
Stephen never talked much about his future. Maybe she should have seen his turning away from her coming. But the way he kissed her didn’t leave much room for questions. The tender way he held her when they stole some time to be together.
There wasn’t much to do in their little town surrounded by miles of forests on one side and Lake Superior on the other. So they often hiked into the woods where she’d capture pictures of a deer herd, or maybe a family of beavers. How stupid sh
e’d been to be taken by his charming smile. He was good at winning people over.
She was even more stupid to have considered giving everything to him. They’d come so close that one night. Then she’d hesitated, and he’d stopped himself.
He acted so shocked about what they were doing, he’d tumbled off her bed, knocking over a small table. The noise brought in Ethan. They’d been able to play it off as if nothing had happened. Or almost happened. Just two friends hanging out.
Bekka’s eyes flew open as the song came to an end.
“You weren’t singing this time,” Stephen chuckled. “Is it because you didn’t recognize it? Was I that off?”
“What? No.” She stared at the sheet music, trying to work out what the blurred words said. Did she recognize the song? She didn’t even know. “Try it again.”
Stephen spit the wad of gum into the trash can. “Fine.” He shuffled the sheet music, muttering something about being conned into something, then began playing again.
How in the world had her brother got Stephen Gaines to agree to play worship music in a church? Not something she believed he would ever do. But Stephen was a man of contradictions. One minute trying to make it big in California, then the next he accepts a job with an orchestra in New York.
Right before she was to start college, she’d told him that she was falling in love. He’d admitted that he loved her, too. They actually talked about the future they could build together. She considered waiting for Stephen to graduate so they could pick a college together. Then the next thing she knew, he avoided her calls until she had to leave for downstate. Ethan found out about her wanting to wait and told their parents.
After that, she had no other choice but to go.
A couple of weeks later, Mom told her about some accident Ethan and Stephen had. A fall over the cliff at the swimming gorge. Stephen had a concussion and Ethan a fractured arm. She’d never figured out exactly what they’d been doing by the swimming pond that late in the year.
Raining Fools (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 2) Page 9