Page 31

T he day of the Harvest Festival dawned brisk and cold, with high winds brushing the treetops, sending leaves spiraling into the sky.

Kate watched from her bedroom window, pulling her heavy chenille robe tighter in the morning chill.

She’d had to swap out her spa robe as the days grew shorter and cooler.

The inn was a tad drafty in the mornings, as she was trying to conserve on her heating costs until she opened.

Oh, she kept the second floor warm and cozy for her one guest, but the third was a mite nippy for now.

In only a few hours she would be performing a duet.

She ran her hands along her sleeves, letting the softness of the fabric calm her.

Was she ready? Were they ready to play the duet without messing up before all of Hazard?

If they could play it perfectly, they were guaranteed success.

But wasn’t the entire legend just a myth?

They’d played it perfectly already downstairs, and nothing happened.

No bells. No whistles. Kate had felt no magical intervention into her life.

Except for the two of them in each other’s arms.

She sighed. Lots to do today before the festival started.

But first, she needed to make a call. She had connections and she could do this one thing to help Rory out with his career.

So many years spent fixing the colossal screwups of the rich and famous had given her an in into the music world.

So she reached for her phone and made the call.

She had solved many a problem for this agent’s artists.

He had offered to help her out any time.

Well, this was it. Kate was calling in the favor he had promised.

*

Rory wasn’t sure how it happened, but he had been conscripted by the Hazard Historical Society to set up for the Harvest Festival.

So here he was at seven in the morning in the Town Hall, setting up tables for the crafters’ booths and missing whatever amazing breakfast Kate had planned.

He’d poured himself a tall go-cup of her rich coffee and even braved her basket of newly baked muffins as he headed out.

And, wow, who knew chocolate chips and clove were such a dynamic combo?

Especially with a hint of maple and apple.

Amazing. Kate was on her way to success.

And he was on his way out of town in just a few days.

Whitney swung by to give him a hand. “You ready for tonight?” she asked.

Rory grimaced. “Yes, of course.”

Whitney raised a brow and laughed. “You don’t act like it.”

“We’ll be fine. What about you? Aren’t you giving a speech?”

“Any chance I get.”

“How’s the campaign?”

“Good, I think. We ran a small poll and I’m on top at the moment, but volunteering is important.”

Rory laughed. “You’re always volunteering. I remember you used to volunteer for everything.”

She tilted her head. “Still do.”

Once the tables were set up and crafters began arriving to put out their wares, Rory headed over to see the piano on the stage.

He strode up the steps and around the curtain and stared.

“Not a piano,” he murmured. Slowly he stepped over to see the antique harpsichord in all its glory.

No one had warned him they would play the piece on a harpsichord.

He itched to sit down and run his hands over the keys, coaxing forth its music.

Did he dare while everyone was setting up?

He really should practice on the harpsichord.

The resistance in the keys would feel different.

If he sat down and practiced now, would anyone care?

Just as he reached the harpsichord and lifted a hand to touch it, he heard the sound system crackle and the town’s local radio station blasted out with “Cardigan.” The sound was adjusted until it was suitable as background noise for the craft fair. Rory dropped his hand.

Would he have a chance to practice with Kate on the harpsichord before the event?

And how would she feel about the difference in the instruments—would it throw her off?

For sure they would need a bench instead of this tiny stool.

But the instrument itself with its graceful lines, the legs curving elegantly to the floor, was impressive.

He opened the lid and propped it open to study the mechanics of the instrument.

A woman clicked her way up the stairs. Rory turned and then rushed to help when he saw her wrestling with a piano bench.

“I’ve got it. You’re Malory, right?”

“Yes, thank you.” The tall woman relinquished the bench and grimaced. “It doesn’t match, but it will have to do.”

“Are you responsible for the harpsichord?”

“Yes, Hazel insisted. I had it brought over last night. Sorry the bench is not of the same era. But I couldn’t get a better substitute on such short notice. She only told me she wanted a harpsichord three days ago. Three days!” Malory threw up her hands and released a long-suffering sigh.

At least Malory was given three days. “She didn’t tell me at all.” He knew he sounded bemused.

“Is that a problem?” Malory looked a little queasy. How much was she responsible for the success of this event?

“Yes, no, well…”

“That’s Hazel,” they said in unison.

“You don’t mind, do you, playing the piece on a harpsichord? I thought you would welcome it. It’s authentic.”

Rory realized Malory was all about authenticity.

Was he? He hadn’t been authentic in, well, years.

What did that say about him? That he had two personas?

His Rory Rollins keyboardist life and his…

what? Throckmorton life? It wasn’t even his name anymore.

He had set it aside to be someone new, but now?

He wanted to merge his two selves. And with Kate, he had.

He swallowed and realized Malory was staring. “I don’t mind at all, but I don’t know how Kate will feel about it.”

“Is there that much difference?”

Yes! “Well, it would be best if we had some time to practice on the harpsichord before we perform on it.”

“Haven’t you been practicing?” Malory paled, and Rory almost laughed. “Yes, of course. Just not on a harpsichord, and every instrument is different. They all have their little quirks, especially these older instruments.”

Malory drew herself up, clearly affronted, and Rory couldn’t help but think how well she fit in with the Hazard Historical Society. “It is in perfect condition, and it was tuned by a professional yesterday. I wouldn’t stand for less.”

“Yes, of course.” Rory felt like a 78 with a skip. Yes, of course, yes, of course.

“But I don’t know when you will be able to practice on it. The booths go until five this evening. Then the hall is set up for the performances. The crew will be banging about, getting the booths broken down, and the chairs set up from five to six.”

Rory thought that might work, until Malory added, “That’s when Danita’s Academy of Dance will rehearse the children on the front section of the stage, away from the harpsichord here on the dais.

After that the doors open for seating, followed by speeches by the town leaders and committee chairs.

The youth choir then performs, followed by the dancers, followed by the comedy routine. ” She paused.

Rory swallowed. Dear Lord, they were expected to play a classical piece right after the comedy routine?

Malory got her breath and kept going, “…followed by this year’s Miss Hazard singing a solo. Then you perform…last.”

He blinked, “We’re last.”

“You’re the best. Seymour says so.”

“Yes, of course.” Rory held in his sigh. No time to practice on the harpsichord. Zip, zero, none. Why would he expect it to be any different? But how would he break the news to Kate?

*

Kate flung another outfit on her bed. What was she supposed to wear to this thing tonight?

She had nothing. Nothing! And her hair was doing those weird spiraling curls it always did in the rain.

Because of course it had started to rain today, just because Hazard was playing a joke on her.

She would fail miserably at this performing.

She knew it. All that practice for nothing.

Play the piece perfectly. In front a big crowd.

Right. She took a breath to calm down. She knew how to perform.

She did. She had played piano with the high school orchestra…

more than a decade ago. Thinking about just how much more, well, she didn’t need that right now either.

One last outfit hung in her closet. Her costume from Halloween, but was it really just a costume ?

It wasn’t flimsy, designed to be worn only once, not at all.

It was period dress and perhaps it would be suitable for tonight.

Perhaps she could make it even better. Perhaps she could get a little help from her two new friends.

Because if she was going to wear the corset she had foregone on Halloween and lace the dress up tight, she would need help.

*

Rory swung back by the inn midmorning, and it felt like a date to Kate.

They were dressed casual for now. She was in blue jeans and a black long-sleeved tee, her hair down and frizzing in the sprinkling mist to its heart’s content.

Because—rain! There really was no other option but to leave it down to its own devices.

And Rory…man, but he really radiated the rock star vibe today.

No more incognito. He’d been outed and now he was embracing it.

Black leather encased his long legs like a glove all the way down.

Soft leather begging to be stroked. Kate had to shove her hands in her back pockets to keep from reaching out and caressing all his manly perfection.

Rory grinned at the direction of her gaze. “Leather keeps the rain off.” He gave her a half shrug and full grin.

“Oh, like duck feathers?”