Chapter Five
Alone in the suite that evening, Ariel wanted only to find a quiet, inspirational place to strum her guitar and sing her prayers before supper with the band, their writers, and their manager. Because if she hoped to figure out what changes would please Aunt Dahlia, she needed help. Serious help.
Help from heaven.
Unfortunately, her dated-looking bedroom in their spacious but uninspiring suite did nothing to boost her creativity. She reached to the other side of the bed for her guitar.
All I need is a plan to advance our brand, grow bigger, and reach more people with our music.
Her aunt’s words invaded Ariel’s every thought.
At home at their Nashville horse farm, she might have carried her guitar into the woods and sat beside the rocky creek, the tumbling waters adding percussion to her strings. Or maybe sat on a stump in the pasture and made the horses listen. As it was, the little brick porch off their suite would have to do.
Expecting the Lord to give her inspiration, she carried the guitar, her Bible, idea book, pen, and a glass of sweet tea through the living room. Ready for the band and writers’ supper in anhour in her lilac knee-length cocktail dress and strappy white sandals, she’d left her phone charging in her room.
Passing Aunt Dahlia’s open door, she glanced in. Her aunt was gone, her white dress—the one she’d intended to wear tonight—still hanging on the hook next to the closet.
Now, what could that mean?
Out on the brick porch, the wind rustled through tall cedars, stirring up nearby lilacs and blowing their scent Ariel’s way as she chose one of the two white rockers. She set her book and tea on the glass-topped table between the chairs.
The secluded spot suited her—just a section of yard and some neglected flowerbeds. No other porches, no other doors led to this hidden, rather shabby refuge. In the distance, at the bottom of a gentle rise, sat the patio where she and Caleb had supper last night, far enough away that she could play and sing without disturbing anyone.
She rapid-tuned and played a simple chord progression. Then she closed her eyes, letting her fingers find the melody in her mind as she strummed the chords she heard in her head, in the key of C—the happy key—and murmured a little impromptu song to the Lord.
You come to me at night
When the shadows keep me awake
You come to me at morning
When the cares of the world steal my peace
You come to me at evening
And help me to walk in the Spirit
You come to me at night…at night…
Ariel sensed movement beside her and broke off the impromptu song. Caleb strode across the too-long grass,carrying his own guitar case and looking handsome in the setting sun, with his black suit and tie, white shirt, and what looked like onyx and diamond silver cufflinks.
“Caleb, how nice you look.”
That wasn’t flirty, was it?
His gaze flitted for a moment as he took in her dress.
A split-second twinkle lit his eyes. “Not sure about that, but thanks. You’re spectacular, though, as always.”
“My dress or my song?”
“Your eyes.” His gaze never wavered.
She melted a little inside, smiling her thanks. “Sit down if you have time.”
Caleb took the other rocker and set down his case. Gestured at a narrow path of trampled grass leading from the corner of the building around to the front. “I sometimes take this shortcut to a small, secluded side porch where I go when I need to play.” Caleb glanced at her Martin N-20. “Looks like you came here for the same reason.”
“I came out here to pray and look for inspiration. This afternoon, my aunt decided I’m in charge of finding the band’s new look. Or sound. Or whatever she’s looking for.” Ariel strummed a random chord. “Something drove you out here too?”
