The morning sun streamed through the new green leaves of spring, while a profusion of daffodils in full bloom danced in the breeze. Meg thought about New York—the cold that lingered there well into March—and marveled as she walked along, her long slender fingers clasped loosely in John’s big hand, exploring the neighborhood around his home. She wasn’t quite certain of just how she had gotten to this point, except that the entire family had gathered in Addy and Mark’s apartment for a big breakfast at around nine o’clock this morning, and before she could offer to help with the dishes after, the others had sort of scooted her and John out the door with orders to enjoy their walk.
Okay. So I’ve never walked along a street with a man before. I’ve never met a Shifter before, either, and now I can call six of them my friends. I’m not in New York anymore, Toto, that’s for certain.
“What are you thinkin’, darlin’?” John asked, swinging their arms to get her attention.
Meg glanced up at him shyly. “I’m just wondering how I got here, that’s all,” she said.
“In Nashville or with me?”
“Both, I guess. I’ve never done this before.”
“What? Taken a walk on a sunny day or taken a walk with a guy?”
“Both.”
He stopped, and pulled her up short. “You’re not kiddin’, are you?”
She smiled. “No. My father was always very strict. I led a very sheltered life.”
“I can’t even imagine a life like that,” he said, turning back down the sidewalk, but keeping her hand in his.
“I’m only just beginning to realize just how sheltered I’ve always been,” she said.
“You never got to play outside as a little kid?”
She snorted. “I don’t think I ever was a ‘little kid,’ to tell you the truth. I started to play the violin when I was three.”
“I started with Grandpappy’s fiddle at about the same age. We’d sit around the house most evenin’s, playin’ this tune or that. Then when we got better, we’d play at a local place—there was this tavern where we sometimes played, and during the summer, we’d play on the green when there’d be a picnic and folks wanted music.”
She sighed. “It all sounds so normal.”
“What about you? Where did you play as a kid?”
She sighed again. “I started my studies at Julliard at ten and played my first concert at Carnegie Hall when I was thirteen.”
He stopped short again, a look of disbelief on his face. “No shit?”
Meg laughed. “No shit.”
“Holy cats. Where else have you played?”
“Oh, Rockefeller Center, in New York. The Royal Albert Hall in London. Vienna, Berlin, Paris, Bucharest, Moscow. I’ve been all over the world with my violin.”
“Holy cats.” He shook his head, “I’ve never even been out of Tennessee.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and began walking once more, pulling him along. “I might as well have stayed in New York for all that I missed seeing in all those places. It was nothing but airports, the inside of limousines, fancy hotels, and concert halls. I never actually got to go exploring. Not like here.”
She grinned, and hugged his arm to her. “Maybe that’s why I’m having such a good time in Nashville. I’ve been having a real life adventure.”
“Does your father know where you are?” he asked.
She sighed. “No. Or at least I hope not.”
“And your mama?”
“She died when I was just a baby, so I have no memory of her.”
He pondered that for a moment.
“So, you’re tellin’ me you just ran away from home?”
“Something like that.”
He stopped once more. “How old are you?”
She laughed. “I was twenty-three in September. Don’t worry. I’m plenty old enough to be on my own. I’ve finally just had enough of the concert circuit.”
“You don’t have any broken contracts or anythin’, do you? Mel’s a real stickler for contracts.”
“No. I don’t,” she said. “My father has undoubtedly lined up a whole season of concerts for me, but I haven’t signed any contracts. I’ve been telling him for months now that I need some time off, so if he has signed something for me, when I told him not to, he’ll just have to deal with the consequences, because I’m not going back to that life. Not ever!”
Her voice had hardened, but she couldn’t help it. She was burned out, and she was through.
“So, you think you’ll be stayin’ here for a bit?” he asked, gently cupping her cheek with his hand. She felt the calluses on his fingertips, so much like her own, and reaching up to take his hand, she turned her face and kissed his palm before intertwining her fingers with his.