Because You're Mine

“Rest,” he said, his gaze going to her belly. He opened the back of the van and pulled out his bass drums.

Alanna sat on the swing until they had the equipment set up. Fiona motioned for her to come join them. As she reached the area where the equipment was set up, Jesse began pounding away on the drums. Alanna stopped and listened to the staccato beat. Her lungs squeezed with pain as memories swept over her. The intensity on Liam’s face when he’d play, the way he flipped his hair out of his eyes, the careful way he cared for his instruments.

She forced herself to listen as Ena snapped off pictures. Jesse wasn’t Liam, but he was good, more than passable. He must have practiced a lot during his recovery.

Maybe she could deal with this.

He glanced up when she approached. In the shadows she couldn’t see the scars from his plastic surgery at all. The surgeon had done a great job.

He stopped drumming and continued to watch her. “Well?”

“Not bad,” she said. “How about the bodhran?”

Without another word, he left the drums and picked up the instrument on the porch, then sat down. He held the drum like Liam, resting it on his left thigh and forearm with his left hand acting as the “skin hand” so he could vary the pitch and timbre by where he touched the back of the skin. The tippers clicked against the skin at just the right times.

Alanna couldn’t help herself. She grabbed her fiddle and lifted it to her chin. The dancing strains of a reel joined the fast thump of the bodhran. Closing her eyes, she danced in her bare feet across the worn floorboards of the porch. For just a minute she could imagine she was with Liam practicing before a performance. When she was done, he’d sweep her into his arms and dance around the room with her. She could almost feel his lips on her hair, the scent of his breath on her face.

She finally realized Jesse had stopped drumming a few seconds before. She opened her eyes and dropped the fiddle away from her face. Her face was wet with tears, so she turned her back and dried it while she made a show of putting her fiddle away. When she faced Jesse and Ciara again, she hoped she was looking composed and serene.

“I told you he was good,” Ciara said, her voice smug.

“What do you say?” Jesse asked. “Will you give me a go at it?”

Alanna wanted to be saying no, but she couldn’t come up with a reason that didn’t seem selfish. The days were ticking away, and they couldn’t go on tour without a drummer. Their futures hung on it. “All right. We’ll try it for a week.”

Ena put down her camera. “Let’s run through our sets.” She picked up her pennywhistle and began to play the tune to “The Last Rose of Summer.”

Fiona began to sing the words in her crystal voice. Ciara harmonized with her. Alanna longed to sing with them, but she put her fiddle back to her chin and began to play. They ran through four songs. She had to admit Jesse was a passable percussionist. His competence with the bodhran surprised her.

They were about to run through another song when a plume of red dirt behind the tires of a car attracted her attention. She squinted and shaded her eyes with her hand. “I think Barry’s back.”

“Then I think I’m out of here,” Ciara muttered.





Eleven


Wait and say hello,” Alanna chided as her mate started off. Ciara stopped and turned back to join her, but her black eyes held rebellion. She twirled a cornrow in her fingers.

Ena picked up her camera and snapped off a few shots of Jesse. Fiona stood twisting her necklace in her hands. Alanna went to meet Barry at the top of the steps.

The Mercedes rolled to a stop, and Barry unwound from under the wheel. He pushed his blond hair off his forehead and smiled at them. “Hello. Good to see you, Ciara. You look as lovely as ever. Ena, Fiona.” He glanced toward Jesse. “You look much better than the last time I saw you in the emergency room. The surgeons have done well by you.”

“I’m doing okay.” Jesse nodded toward the mansion. “Beautiful home you have here.”

Barry beamed. “It’s been in my family for generations. Would you like a little tour?”

Jesse glanced at his watch, then at Ciara, who quickly spoke. “We’d love a tour but not today, Barry. We have to be getting back. Thanks for the invitation though.”

“Some coffee or tea at least?” he asked. “Since I had to go to town, I stopped for some benne wafers. Come on in. I’d like to talk to you about the plans for the studio, get your input.”

Alanna noticed how Ciara’s smile seemed genuine. Maybe she’d thaw toward Barry eventually. “Come on, Ciara, you can be staying a little longer.”

“Are you having any chocolate benne wafers?” Ciara asked.

“Of course.” Barry took her arm and led her up the steps.

Alanna suppressed a smile. Barry was pulling out all the stops to win over Ciara. He had to sense her hostility. The rest of the band followed them into the house with Jesse bringing up the rear.