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He raised an eyebrow at the comment and Kate knew he was aware he’d thrown her off.

“That it,” he said and then stepped in front of her down the walk with a little duck waddle.

She burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it.

Okay, so he wasn’t in total rock star mode if he was willing to look ridiculous for her.

For her. Oh dear, she was in deep.

At the sidewalk, Rory held out his hand. Her hair was already springing up in tiny curls around her face. “Need an umbrella?” He produced one as if from nowhere. It was bright yellow with little black cats jumping all over it.

She tilted her head. “Ah, because it’ll be raining cats today?”

“Mystery cats, just for you.”

“Casper the cat.”

“Or…Catspurr,” he said and grinned.

Kate blinked. “I like that. Catspurr. She’s been needing a name all her own. “Catspurr, the friendly cat.”

“When you want to be part of the inn crowd,” Rory said, tucking in close with Kate under the umbrella. They set out strolling along Endeavor Street.

“So, why did you name your band for Hazard?”

“I didn’t intend to, but I…suppose I needed to. I couldn’t wait to leave at nineteen, but later, I…I don’t know.” He shook his head.

“Probably the same reason I keep a little piece of my Katrina persona.”

“You have two personas.” It wasn’t a question, and Kate felt understood. She nodded. “As do you.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, I do. But with you…”

“They merge.” They spoke the last together.

“I’m only ever my whole self with you.”

“And I…me too.”

They walked in silence for a while along the street named after his band, close together under a single umbrella in step and moving as one. They passed the chocolate shop that Kate still had yet to enter, Toby and Macs, then rounded the corner toward the Town Hall on Worthy Street.

She blinked up at the street sign. “ Worthy …” she murmured, “…named after Franklin Worthy , his daughter Prudence Worthy who followed her heart at the cost of her family.” Kate blinked.

Something settled deep inside her, bringing her to a decision she hadn’t even been aware she was making until that moment.

She was worthy, too. Her inn was worthy.

They ducked into the Town Hall amidst the organized chaos of a craft fair.

“Ready?” Rory raised a brow as he shook the droplets off the umbrella in the foyer and tucked it into a brass umbrella stand.

“Or not.” Part of her had been looking forward to this, but now it felt daunting. She knew she would be on display. She had lived here for months, but at every public gathering, she felt all eyes watching her to see if she would be…worthy somehow.

“Ah, it’ll be fun. You’ll see. Lead on, Miss Mayfield, wherever you wish to go.”

“Not far,” she said, as she pointed out the Ivy Way Tea Shop booth manned by Rebecca and her friends. “I don’t wish to wander far.”

In the next two hours, Kate brushed shoulders with the entire town and bought beautiful handcrafted items to dress up the guest rooms in her inn: tatted lace, pottery, and ornaments to trim a holiday tree.

At some point in the crush of people, she had lost track of Rory.

She glanced around. Laden with her packages and thinking she spotted him off to her left, she turned to move down the aisle and nearly bumped into Derrick Cross.

She took a step back, surprised to see him at the community event.

He frowned. With a curled lip, he nodded at her packages. “Finding everything you need?”

Kate nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact, and you?”

“The days are numbered, Miss Mayfield. You really should seriously consider my offer before it runs out.”

Kate felt her back muscles twitch at his condescending tone. She kept her voice steady. “Thank you for the reminder. I’ll be sure to let you know if I have a change of heart.”

Just then, Rory caught up to her. “Let me show you something.”

Kate tilted her head at the concern in Rory’s voice, Derrick Cross and his agenda forgotten.

“Trust me?” He took her hand and led her around to the stage stairs, and they crept up together like they were sneaking where they didn’t belong. Then Rory did an arm wave, and Kate saw the harpsichord on its dais.

“It’s, wow, beautiful.”

“Our instrument for tonight.”

“It’s old. It’s…a harpsichord?” Kate released her grip on her bags of packages slowly, easing them to the floor, and moved toward the instrument.

Rory nodded, “Are you okay with that? We’ve worked so hard learning the piece on your upright piano. A harpsichord, apart from the sound quality, will require less tension on the keys. It might be a bit disconcerting until one gets used to it.”

“Have you played one?”

“Years ago, on a field trip with my music teacher.”

Kate couldn’t help it. She beamed a smile.

“You look like sun bursting through clouds,” he murmured.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

“You’re not upset?”

She shook her head, “This is better. This is right.” She sat on the bench and played the opening notes, then shook herself a little as if realizing they weren’t alone.

“We don’t have time to practice on it.”

“It’s okay, really. We’re ready.”

*

“Tighter, pull!” said Ivy to Malory. Kate gripped a bedpost and hung on, her friends cinching the laces on her corset tighter with each pull. Lacy petticoats flowed down around her. She sucked in her breath and hoped she wouldn’t faint during tonight’s event.

She was already stressing, her confidence from earlier having evaporated. Why had she told Rory they were ready? She was so not ready. Her friends tugged again. “I don’t need my ribs misshapen. I just want to look authentic tonight in the dress.”

“Oh, you will,” promised Malory in her crisp, no-nonsense tones.

Ivy clapped her hands. “Turn around. I want to see.”

Kate spun, letting the additional petticoats Malory had brought swirl about her legs. She loved the feel of them. The corset was still in doubt until she turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length oval mirror. “Oh, my.”

The corset covered her well enough, but it presented her breasts like apples to be picked. Kate hesitated. She was trying to look like she belonged in 1776. Dressed like this, she either belonged on Petticoat Junction or Lonesome Dove . How authentic would this be?

“Raise your arms.”

Kate obeyed, and Malory dropped the dress over her head while Ivy tugged it down and arranged the skirts.

Kate watched her own transformation. “Wow.”

“You like?” Ivy gave a little jump.

Kate took a breath. Okay, good, she wouldn’t pass out. She could still breathe comfortably. She stood taller. The corset really did help her posture. She rolled her shoulders a bit and smoothed a hand along her waist as her friends helped finish lacing up the dress.

Malory gave a short nod of approval. “Now for your hair.”

“I thought it just went under a cap. That’s how I did it on Halloween.”

“Oh, there’s a bit more to it than that.” Malory gave a half smile.

At Malory’s direction, Kate sat in front of the vanity she had added to the room when Rory brought over the furniture.

While Ivy danced around and handed Malory combs and brushes and curling irons, Malory set about transforming her hair.

The last touch was to place the white lace-trimmed cap over the bun on the back of her head, ringlets framing her face.

Once her friends were satisfied, Kate couldn’t believe how true to the era she appeared. “I can’t thank you both enough.”

Ivy tilted her head and, with a thoughtful purse to her lips, said, “It’s right that you should look the part tonight of the composer.”

“The composer?” Kate gave a little laugh. “You think the composer is a woman?”

“Well, she would have to be, wouldn’t she? I’ve heard you practice a little bit. The music is so unique. It has a definite feminine quality, don’t you think?”

Malory shrugged. “I haven’t heard the music yet, but I don’t think many women were composing music in the eighteenth century.

The general consensus of the day was that their time would be best spent wielding a needle rather than a pen.

Women writing verses was frowned upon. Women writing music was generally unheard of. ”

“Well, I expect there were women who bucked tradition. Women were just as talented. I think the men just never gave them any credit. I love a pretty quilt as much as the next gal, but quilts don’t last hundreds of years.

Did you find any more secret compartments in your writing desk? ” Ivy asked Kate.

“I looked, but no. Malory is sure there must be another.”

“Let’s look.” Ivy gave a jump.

“Now?”

“Yes, let’s go down and I’ll take a picture of you at the writing desk. You can use it to promote your inn.”

Not a bad idea, thought Kate, so they headed out, Ivy snapping pictures with her phone and Kate gliding down the stairs in her sturdy, low-heeled, lace-up boots.

Kate had moved the desk into the parlor, and she seated herself before it to pose for Ivy’s pictures.

She pulled out a sheet of paper and raised a quill to write.

As she leaned forward to adjust her skirt for the photo, she gripped the corner edge of the writing desk and heard the click of a small mechanism.

A drawer popped open an inch on the side.

Ivy gasped. “You found it.”

Kate blinked at it. She eased the drawer open carefully. “There’s something inside it.”

“Is it another manuscript?”

Very carefully touching only the edges, Kate spread out the scrap of paper on the desk. They leaned over it.

“It’s poetry, I think.”

“It’s the Hazard blessing.”

Kate began to read the spidery writing, Ivy mouthing the words along with her.

“Thou who loveth, / Be blessed amongst us. / With breath bestoweth / Thy heart.” Kate paused and then let out a breath.

“There’s more.” They all leaned in close, her friends peering over her shoulder.

Her voice shook a little as she started to read, and she made an effort to steady it.

“Thou who dwelleth, /Find home amongst us. /With heart bestoweth / Thy song.”