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A second verse. Kate’s heart raced. She had been right. There was more. She had sensed it, a song to harpsichord accompaniment, but the page was torn. If there had been more than two verses, they were lost.

“Is that the composer’s signature?” Ivy pointed to a scrawl in the top corner of the page. They scrutinized it.

“The last name is Worthy,” said Kate, “I can make that out well enough. But the first name…is that an ‘F’ or an ‘S’?”

“Definitely an ‘S,’” said Malory, “They often drew them tall like that. I’ve seen it many times in historical documents.”

“So…Selah Worthy?” Kate thought about the possibility. Had she lived here in the 1700s?

“Selah means praise and was a virtue name given to girls. It’s the same name as the owner of the desk,” Malory added.

“I was right. A girl composer with a name that means praiseworthy. Well, she’s certainly that if she’s a female composer.” Ivy gave a little jump. “I wonder if she composed in secret and that’s why it was hidden away.”

“Or maybe that’s why the duet is so complicated, if she kept it secret and didn’t have anyone to practice with her,” said Kate. Selah Worthy. How was she connected to the inn?

*

Rory wondered at his decision to put on his historical garb.

He’d done it on a whim without discussing it with Kate, but somehow it felt right.

If she showed up in casual clothes that clashed stylistically, he might have to change.

He shook his head. It had been an impulse, to dress in his soldier costume, but it didn’t really feel like a costume so much.

He couldn’t explain it. He was pondering that when his granddad and cronies wandered in.

“We need to sit over there,” Lydia was pointing while Hazel glared.

“It’s too far from the stage,” she argued. “I want to sit right up front.”

“Yes, yes, I don’t hear as well as I used to,” agreed Seymour.

“Oh dear, those children just took our seats,” Marjorie said.

“I win,” said Lydia, and marched off to the side aisle where Rory was standing.

“Ah, my boy. You look just right for tonight.” Seymour nodded his approval.

“It’s not too much? I wasn’t sure I should show up in costume.”

“Costume! Does it feel like a costume?” Hazel was clearly affronted.

“No, actually.”

“They’re your clothes now,” said Marjorie. “They should just feel like your clothes.”

And they did, strangely enough.

“You wear them like you’re comfortable. Costumes are uncomfortable. Be confident.” Seymour patted his shoulder before they all settled into their chosen seats and began arguing about the order of the program.

*

“Dude, what are you wearing?”

Rory turned and blinked. “Kyler? What are you doing here?”

“Backing you up.”

“It’s the town harvest festival.”

“You know we don’t perform solo. It’s a rule. ”

“Whose?” Rory knew he’d never made that rule.

He wasn’t that draconian. If his bandmates had special projects, they were free to pursue them.

They were not under any record contracts that limited their artistic freedom, so Rory wouldn’t do that to them, either.

He let out a sigh. “You can’t perform this piece with me. ”

“No, but if you’re performing, so are we. Nolan insists. It’s his decree.”

It irked Rory that Nolan was making decrees they hadn’t discussed.

“I cleared our performance with the person in charge.” Kyler nodded toward Whitney. “There’s a brief intermission when we can set up the equipment and it won’t show behind the midway curtain. She says we all go on after your fancy solo.”

“Duet. It’s a harpsichord duet.” Somehow, it was important to clarify that.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Marco? And Dustin?” Rory watched his friends arrive. “What about…” he looked behind back at the entrance and saw Dustin’s wife holding an infant.

“It’s a girl,” announced his drummer.

“Congratulations!” Rory gave Dustin a quick backslapping hug. “I’m surprised you came out.”

“It wasn’t that far for us with my in-laws in Providence, so we drove over. Couldn’t let you go it alone.”

“We knew you needed back up,” said Ven.

They were here, all of them. His band had shown to back him up. Rory swallowed hard.

“We figured you could sing your new love song tonight, and we would wing the backup, you know, a little preview of our next hit for your hometown,” said Kyler.

Rory blinked. He had been composing a ballad to Kate. Was it ready? “There’s no time to practice.”

Kyler just shook his head. “It’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, like I’m always telling you, practice is overrated.” Dustin smirked.

“Says the drummer!”

“Like the threads, man.” Marcus gave him a nod of approval.

“Thanks,” said Rory. Suddenly he knew everything would come together…because they were together. And Kate would be here soon. He took a breath. They could all do this. Only one situation concerned him. He pulled Kyler aside. “Nolan? Is he here?”

“I don’t think so. I told him, of course, but he’s been acting weird.

That last podcast he booked, they knew way more about your stalker situation than they should have.

I’m not sure how they got the inside scoop.

It was all Marco and I could do to keep the interview on track.

They only wanted to talk about scandal, like scandal was a good thing. ”

Marco joined them. “Nolan hinted we should sensationalize it.”

Rory stiffened. “Any press is good press?”

“Exactly.” Marco nodded. “I heard you hired QHM.”

Rory blinked. “Where did you hear that ?”

Kyler shrugged, “Nolan. I figured you told him but not us. And why would you go behind his back—and ours—to do that?”

Rory picked up on his friend’s annoyed tone. He hesitated. How could he explain this to Kyler without upsetting him?

“Because Nolan isn’t really the one in charge, that’s why.” Ven wandered over to join them as Dustin and his family found seats in the back. His bandmates all turned to him.

“How long have you known?” he asked Ven.

“Months. It became clear the way you always go off on your own and then the decisions come through on songs, concerts, tours. The only bit that’s off is this whole stalker situation.”

“Nolan seems comfortable with it,” said Marco.

Did he? Rory had to stop and think. Nolan hadn’t been ruffled by any of the stalker appearances.

He had advised Rory not to report the nutty letters she’d sent, had said he would deal with it.

Nolan had been the one to usher Sunny off the bus, speaking quietly to her, putting his hand on her back to guide her out.

And Sunny hadn’t acted upset when she was led away by Nolan.

There had been a familiarity.

Rory knew that the report from QHM about the background check they’d done on his band manager and his connection to Sunny Briscoe had come through, but he hadn’t had time to review it, what with everything going on today.

But right now, they needed to clear out of the stage area.

The program would be starting any minute.

Rory knew he’d need to talk later with his band.

He’d have some explaining to do. It was way past time to be transparent with his friends.

Just then, Rory spotted Kate coming through the entrance. His friends kept talking, but he couldn’t focus on that. She took his breath away. Kate was a vision.

He moved toward her.

“You look…”

“So do you.” She pressed a hand to her waist, and Rory’s eyes were drawn there. She looked amazing.

“Are we ready?” He heard the hesitation in her voice. Time to reassure.

“We are.” He spoke with confidence. “We’ve practiced and played it perfectly before. Are you nervous?” He gave her a half smile.

“Just a lot. It’s been a long time since I was out front before an audience. I’m used to…”

“Working from the shadows.”

Kate nodded. “Even when I played with the high school orchestra, I was off to the side. I was never in the spotlight.”

“Well, as the keyboardist, I know I don’t usually place myself in the limelight either.

” He took her hands, surprised at how chilled they were.

He held them between his own to warm them.

The arriving hoards, settling into chairs, threw them curious glances.

Rory pulled Kate into a hallway where they could be out of sight until it was time to perform.

He certainly didn’t want to have to chat about their unusual attire to inquisitive townspeople.

The lights dimmed once and then twice, and the murmur of the crowd quieted. He could hear Whitney emceeing the event, asking the crowd to put cell phones on silent. Then he heard the sweet high voices of the children’s choir began to sing.

They waited in the wings as the dancers came on. At intermission, he left Kate to set up with his band.

Before he knew it, the comedy act was over and it was their turn. Kate grabbed hold of his arm.

He gave her a gentle smile. “You can do this.”

To the slight rustling of the audience, Kate and Rory eased their way to the harpsichord and seated themselves on the bench. They were angled so the crowd could see them play. The light came up, a spotlight only on the two of them, and the crowd fell silent.

“ We can do this,” Kate murmured.

They began to play, notes rising and falling.

When they came to the first stanza, the words of the blessing flowed through her mind.

She reveled in the bright, crisp sounds of the harpsichord.

At the second stanza, the lyrics she had found just that afternoon ran through her head with the music.

She murmured them under her breath. Thou who dwelleth.

That was her, dwelling in the inn. Find home amongst us.

She had found her home here, a home Rory had left, but seemed to so belong in.

With heartbestoweth

Thy song.

This was their song. Her awareness of him beside her, his warmth, his strength, his steady presence, all of it centered her. She didn’t miss a note. When the stanzas repeated, she spoke the words under her breath like the blessing they were.