“Miss Dahlia’s not here. She left you in charge, so you can choose to let me do it.”
She smiled. “You’re stretching me again, Caleb.”
This time, she liked it. It felt good to have a partner.
That afternoon, as the sun began to lower in the sky and with little waves lapping against the rocks, Ariel announced a break in their rehearsal. Stepping off the outdoor stage their team had built on Windy Beach’s wide lawn, she started for the water, seeking a calm, quiet place to pray.
With the beach deserted and quiet, other than the sound of seagull calls, she bent down and threw a little rock into the huge lake.
That’s my life, Lord. A little bitty person in this huge world. In the natural, my life still looks messy. I have no idea wheremy career will go, and my future seems wide open to change in every way. Except for You, Jesus. You never change.
Just like that, the presence of the Lord came down and filled that beach, filled her mind, helped her discern her thoughts from His words.
All was well.
Even though she didn’t know how things would work out with Caleb. How her relationship with Aunt Dahlia would change if both Sullivan women soon changed their names. How the musicians would react when she and Aunt Dahlia announced their decision not to divide but to multiply the band.
Later, after the applause had died down following the other bands’ performances and minutes before the teens would sing, Ariel peered between the curtains separating the makeshift green room—rather, the green tent—from the open stage and saw a larger crowd than she’d expected. She let go of the curtain and turned back to the kids, unsure whether to tell them.
“Big crowd,” Caleb said, slipping up behind her.
“I didn’t expect it, since everyone knows Aunt Dahlia can’t come.”
He looked at her with those heart-melting brown eyes. “Your fans love you and Miss Dahlia because they know you love them. The ticket-booth workers told me everybody says they want to show love for you and support for your aunt.”
Her eyes misted. They loved her. Caleb loved her. And Aunt Dahlia loved her enough to let her go. To Caleb and to her own career.
“Time to bring on the kids,” the production manager called from outside the tent.
Ariel led the young people backstage for last-minute instructions.
“Breathe from your diaphragm, stagger your breathing during long notes. And no nasal singing.” A few of the kidschuckled, but the rest looked too nervous to catch her attempt at humor.
She stepped closer to give the most important instruction. “The secret to entertaining is to forget yourself and people’s opinion of you. Instead, look at your audience and think about them—how you can bless them from your platform.”
She noticed Caleb from the corner of her eye. Funny how his mere presence gave her a measure of confidence that she might make it through this concert.
He moved close, pulled her aside. “You doing okay?”
“I was less nervous the first time I got on a stage.”
He gave her a silly grin. Probably trying to make her smile. Which it did. “Why? Because you have to sing with me instead of Miss Dahlia?”
“It’s not that. She’s always my strength. I’ve never gone onstage without her.”
Caleb sobered and took her hand in his gentle grip. “You’re Ariel Denton Sullivan. You can do anything you put your mind to. Especially with music.”
“I’m not so sure.”
He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Then go in the strength and talent of the Lord. He’s the one who invented music. So lean into who He is and what He can do with music, and flow with what He gives you.”
In an instant, it all made sense.
The emcee finally introduced Ariel, the musicians, and the teen choir. She stepped onto a stage full of mics, guitars, a sax, a trombone, upright bass, and a trumpet on their stands. With wide eyes, the teens took their places on the risers.
She breathed a prayer for them, because as terrified as most of them looked, Ariel might have to sing this one solo.
Then she caught sight of Nevaeh, who’d defended her on the street two days ago. The girl looked confident, almost defiantly so, as she waited for Ariel’s four-count.
