She set down the bow and placed it and the instrument in the case. “What year did Elizabeth Jane receive the land grant?”
He glanced at the document. “1780.”
“I wonder if she brought the violin with her when she accepted her land.” She pulled out her phone. “Can I take a picture of the violin?”
He nodded. “I decided to display the land grant in this room. At first, I wanted to put it in the lobby so all the guests couldsee it. But today I decided to hang it in the parlor for the town to enjoy. It’s time this inn got back to its roots of hospitality.” He chose a nail, checked for studs in the space between the door and the wall, and drove in the nail. Then he hung the framed document by the thick wire attached to its back.
Ariel crossed the room and stood next to him. “That spot was made to display the grant.”
“Feels good to have this piece of history in place.” He strode to the table where he’d left his old guitar. “We need to bring music back into this room too. Singing the old carols at Christmas, Friday night jams when everybody plays and sings along, Sunday evening hymns. Where should this go? I want everyone to feel free to play it.”
She glanced around the room. “Over the mantel.”
He hung the guitar in its new spot, then returned and sat near her on the couch. Held her there, in their favorite room—now their favorite place. “You know, when we’re on the road, we’ll have this room and this moment to think about, memories to enjoy when we’re away. It’ll comfort us even when we’re not here.”
“When we are, we’ll share it. Make people feel loved, comforted, and at home. Because, at its heart, that’s hospitality.”
Ariel always approached the morning of a concert with the anticipation of a child before a beach vacation. But this concert would be the best of all, onstage with Caleb.
At this point, she didn’t know what to call Caleb. They weren’t engaged, and Ariel didn’t like referring to a grown man as one’s boyfriend. Aunt Dahlia called Mr. Augo her gentleman friend, but that sounded too old.
For now, “Caleb” would have to do in public, and “love of my life” in her heart.
She’d awakened early—quite early—her mind racing. Would people come wanting to hear for themselves whether or not she could sing? Her mind said probably not, but her heart reserved judgment. Worse, she still didn’t believe she could pull off a concert without the great Dahlia Denton.
She knew what would calm her fears: making music to the Lord on Caleb’s parlor piano.
After she sent pictures of Caleb’s violin to Aunt Dahlia’s friend Enzo Cabrini, who appraised antique stringed instruments.
That done, she slid into her favorite jeans, blue button-down, and sandals, and started toward Island House Inn while the sun still slept on the horizon.
She passed through the main entrance to the parlor, sat down at that beautiful piano, and played her jazzy “Amazing Grace.” Playing her favorite song in one of her favorite places helped settle her mind. Because as sure as the sunrise, the world would watch her today and listen critically.
However, she had Caleb, and she had the Lord. And she had His promise always to stay near.
Only one thing could make this day better—her family in the audience. Charlotte had to give a lecture on soil physics, of all things. Mama and Daddy remained undecided, since Sam crossed his arms and refused to budge if he didn’t want to go somewhere. Ethan? Uncommitted.
But Caleb, her band, and Dani were enough.
As always, the music helped her relax, focus. Now, with the sun awakened and shining, Ariel needed to get to Windy Beach.
She exited to the main porch as a guitar in the distance played “Mercy Song.”
Caleb. On his secret porch.
She followed the sound, and sure enough, Caleb and his guitar hid there among the lilacs. His khaki-colored linen shorts and shirt and brown slip-ons gave him a more casual vibe than usual, and she liked it.
“Up before the sun?” He stopped playing mid-chord and set down his guitar. “I had a feeling you’d come by.”
“I borrowed the parlor piano for a few minutes. Something about that room always calms me.”
He nodded. “Me too.”
A breeze stirred the lilacs and scattered their fragrance through the air. But even Caleb’s presence among the flowers couldn’t completely quiet her fears. “I need to check on the stagehands. Something’s always missing or doesn’t work right, and we need to be ready for rehearsal before the concert. Want to come along?”
“No. I want to do it for you. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks.”
“That’s sweet, but Aunt Dahlia gave me the job.”
