The four blocks to the tavern passed quickly. Adrianna walked most of the way with her head down; the weight of seeing her father’s damaged car and looking ahead to her forced stay in the town pressed upon her. She didn’t look up until she realized Gabe and Jesse had come to a halt.
“This is it,” Gabe said.
“Not half bad, huh?” Jesse added.
The tavern sat in the middle of a block, its one-story frame wedged between two buildings; one a small café, the other a shoe repair shop. The front of the tavern looked shoddy; one of the two small windows that looked out onto the street was cracked, and the whole thing was in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. As she stared at the dilapidated sign above the front door, she tried to fix a smile to her face.
“It’s really something,” she muttered.
“Wait until you see the inside,” Jesse boasted. “Come on, Cowboy.”
Adrianna held open the door while Gabe pushed Jesse’s chair. The inside of the tavern smelled strongly of beer and cigarette smoke. It was all that Adrianna could do not to bring her hand to her nose. With only a couple of lights on, it was as gloomy as a cave, and she had to squint to see much of the interior. Jesse moved off on his own, rolling easily between the tables and chairs on the wood floor. Cowboy stayed close to him. A young woman was lazily sweeping the floor beneath the bar stools. She looked up at them as they entered.
“
Bonjour,
Sally,” Gabe hailed her. The woman nodded a greeting before resuming her task.
Gabe led Adrianna toward the rear of the bar. In the far corner sat a lonely piano, a stool with a worn leather seat beside it. Once she was close enough to see it more clearly, Adrianna winced inwardly; there were nicks and scrapes along the side of the instrument, and the ivory on some of the keys was missing. Obviously, the piano had seen better days.
“It might not be much to look at, but it can still play a pretty good tune.”
The Cajun walked over and flipped a switch on the wall. Faint light came from bulbs affixed to the walls, but at least it was enough to see by. Fetching a sheaf of papers from atop the bar, Gabe pulled up a chair and beckoned her to join him with a pat on the stool.
Adrianna sat with a squeak of the stool’s rusty swivel. Gabe arranged the sheet music in front of her and she stared at the notes. The song’s title was “Old Dan Tucker.” She’d never heard of it, but the sheet music didn’t seem complicated.
“This is one of our more popular songs. It’s so well liked at the sing-along that you’ll probably end up playing it a couple of times. I’ve plunked it out so often that I could probably do it in my sleep,
c’est la vérité
!”
With a deep breath for courage, Adrianna put her fingers on the keys and began to play. The sound that came from the piano was clunky and out of tune; she could only imagine how long it had been since it had had a proper tuning. She tried to concentrate solely on the notes on the paper instead of the sounds, but she stumbled with her timing and had to stop.
“That piano sounds like a lumber wagon,” Jesse offered from across the room.
“Didn’t know you had an ear for music, gator-bait,” Gabe called back over his shoulder. Looking back down at Adrianna, he encouragingly added, “It will take some time to get used to this piano, so please do not become discouraged,
mademoiselle
.”
With a weak smile, she nodded and began again. She made it further into the song but soon stumbled, the notes sounding an awful lot like the crash of her automobile.
In her heart, Adrianna had a sense of what was the matter, and it wasn’t the music. It was hard enough with Gabe, Jesse, and the silent cleaning woman. How could she expect to manage with a room full of rowdy men?
“Maybe you should give her some whiskey,” Jesse shouted.
“Pay him no mind,” Gabe said leaning down to speak softly. “No one expects you to play perfectly, but there’s no one else in the whole town who can do it, other than Mrs. Monroe, of course.”
“Mrs. Monroe?” For a split second, Adrianna had hope that there was another option, someone else who could keep her from having to play. Gabe quickly snuffed that hope.
“Mrs. Monroe is the woman who plays the organ up at the church.” He grinned. “She is something of a teetotaler, so I doubt that we’d be able to persuade her to enter a house of spirits,
n’est-ce pas
. I do believe that she thinks of us about as kindly as she does the devils and sinners that the good reverend preaches against every Sunday. I could never introduce Mrs. Monroe to the tavern patrons . . . they’d die laughing.”
“Oh, Gabe, I’d rather you’d not use my last name when you introduce me,” Adrianna said and looked up at him pleadingly. “It isn’t that I’m ashamed of playing here. I just don’t want someone to find me.”
“
Chérie,
someone wants to hurt you?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
“Quinn would be quite upset if anyone bothered you. I daresay he might be a touch smitten.” He winked.
“Oh, you . . . stop teasing me.”
“We still have several hours before you’ll have to play,
chérie
.” Gabe didn’t comment on her rosy cheeks. “That gives us plenty of time to go over all of the songs. Let us practice as much as we can.”
As she bent her head back to the piano, Adrianna attempted to focus on the music, but try as she might, she failed. Her heart beat like a rabbit’s, and she was certain that her face was flushed crimson. Gabe’s words repeated over and over in her thoughts.
I dare say he might be a touch smitten
.
Adrianna wasn’t prepared when Quinn came into the tavern. She was playing chords on the piano, while Gabe played the melody with his right hand. They were laughing and Jesse was clapping his hands.
As Quinn approached the piano, Adrianna slid her hands into her lap.
“Who in the hell brought Jesse down here?” he demanded.
“I did,” Gabe and Adrianna answered in unison.
Adrianna looked up into his angry face. “Is there something wrong with him being here?
“I wanted to come, Quinn.” Jesse had rolled himself over beside Adrianna.
“This is no place for a boy your age.”
Adrianna felt a flash of anger. “Yes, what’s wrong with him being here?”
“Why didn’t you take him to the park if you wanted to take him out?”
“There’s no piano in the park,
mon ami.
” Gabe’s eyes sparkled as he looked from Quinn to the pretty woman sitting on the piano stool.
Quinn turned and walked back behind the bar.
Damn, she and Gabe are getting pretty friendly. She’ll find out soon that Gabe’s heart belongs to Dr. Bordeaux. He’s never looked at another woman since he met her.
Gabe began to play, and Adrianna automatically joined in, making her fingers ripple over the keys as Gabe had shown her.
“We’ll make a honky-tonk piano player out of you yet.” Gabe smiled and she laughed, surprised at how much she enjoyed his company. It was surprisingly easy to follow his instruction and put in the extra notes.
“He’ll get over his mad, Annie,” Jesse said, watching her fingers on the keys.
“I don’t know why he’s mad . . . and I really don’t care.”
J
ESSE WAS UNUSUALLY
talkative during supper. He bragged about Adrianna learning so quickly to play the honky-tonk piano. Lola scowled and didn’t comment. Quinn smiled frequently, apparently recovered from his concerns about Jesse being at the tavern. He seemed pleased that Jesse was enthusiastic about something. Adrianna looked from one brother to the other, trying to find some resemblance. Where Jesse’s features were finely chiseled, Quinn’s were craggy. She reasoned it was because he worked outdoors in all kinds of weather, while Jesse had been in the house for the better part of a year.
“Gabe had a good time playing with Annie.” He looked at Adrianna and grinned when he shortened her name.
Lola jumped up from the table and went to the cabinet where she brought a large spoon and poked it into the bowl of green beans. She plopped back down into her seat and spoke to Quinn.
“Have you heard how Mr. Thatcher’s wife is doing?” she asked with a sly glance at Adrianna, clearly intending to shut her out of the conversation.
“Haven’t heard,” Quinn said shortly and continued eating.
Adrianna got up from the table. “Excuse me. I’ll go get dressed.”
Lola looked up quickly. “Quinn doesn’t leave here until nine o’clock. You’ve got time to help me with the dishes, don’t you? Or will it take you all that time to get prettied up?”
Adrianna paused.
“Annie won’t be helping you tonight, Lola,” Quinn said tersely.
Lola jumped up from the table. “Well, I declare! You said she would help me.”
“Do you think you’re overworked here?” Quinn asked. “You’ve never complained before.”
“That was when there was only the three of us.”
Adrianna stood uncertainly in the doorway, then went up the stairs to her room. She’d never had to justify her actions to the household help before, and she was not sure how to react. Let them thrash it out. She didn’t care one way or the other. As soon as she had paid her debt, she’d be gone.
Before she and Quinn left the house, Adrianna went in to say good night to Jesse.
“Wish me luck, Jesse.”
“You’ll do just great,” the boy said. “Gabe says you have a magic touch on that piano. I wish I could be there to hear you.”
“I’ll tell you about it in the morning. You’ll probably be asleep when we get home.”
Quinn and Adrianna walked the handful of blocks to the Whipsaw. The click, click of Adrianna’s high heels striking the paved sidewalk mixed with the night sounds of the birds settling in the trees. There were very few people on the streets. A full moon had risen just above the treetops, pale in the cloudless sky. A slight breeze brought the clean smells of flowers and freshly cut grass.
“It’s a lovely evening,” Adrianna offered.
“My granddaddy used to call these nights ‘pearls,’” Quinn said.
“Why was that?”
“Partly because of the way the full moon hung up there in the sky, round as can be,” he said. “But I think part of what he was trying to say was to hold an evening like this as if it were a treasure. There aren’t all that many that are this nice. When the heat soars, most summer nights are hell.”
As much as she wanted to agree that Quinn’s grandfather was right, that the night was a treasure, she couldn’t help but feel her nerves jump at the very thought of playing the piano at the tavern. Ever since she and Gabe had gone over the songs, she’d known she
could
play them . . . but that still didn’t answer the question of whether she
would
.
“Sometime I want to talk to you about getting some bars in Jesse’s room so he can pull himself up and get into his chair on his own. I plan to talk to Dr. Bordeaux about exercises for him.”
“Anything you can do to help him would be appreciated.”
“I know a man in Shreveport who doesn’t have the use of his legs, and he has developed his arms and shoulders to lift his weight. Jesse is young and has his whole life before him. I’d like to see him more independent.” Enthused, she continued: “You know, he is a very smart boy. I hope to speak to his teacher and help him finish his senior year. I can at least get him motivated and, after I leave, you or Gabe can take over.”
Quinn felt a prick of disappointment at the thought of her leaving. All he could think of to say was, “I’m glad you took Jesse to the Whipsaw.”
“You didn’t act like it this afternoon. You acted as if you could bite my head off.”
“I just had to get used to the idea, that’s all. I was surprised to see Jesse there.”
“He enjoyed getting out of the house.”
“Gabe’s been taking him out some.”
“He’s got the right idea,” Adrianna said. “It’s not healthy for anyone, let alone a young man like Jesse, to spend that much time by himself, away from other people. It’s no way for anyone to go through life.”
“I know what you mean,” Quinn agreed. “Besides, when he gets out of that wheelchair and starts walking again, he’ll be able to come and work at the Whipsaw. He could help with the accounts now. He doesn’t have to walk to do that. After all, someday it’ll all be his.”
Adrianna looked over at Quinn’s profile in the moonlight. He walked with his head high; the love he held for his brother was as apparent as the full moon in the sky. Still, she was worried that he held too much faith in Jesse’s being able to walk again. It was possible, even likely, that Jesse would never regain the use of his legs and forever be stuck in his chair. What Adrianna was trying to help him learn was to be more capable and confident in his current predicament. She wanted to warn Quinn, to tell him to lower his expectations, but she found she didn’t have the heart.
The other subject she was reluctant to broach was that of Lola. When she and Jesse had returned from the tavern, the cleaning woman had held her tongue, but her eyes had spoken of hatred. Even when Quinn had arrived home, Lola had remained quiet, dropping dinner plates onto the table with thuds and then glaring at Adrianna all throughout the meal. Quinn hadn’t seemed to notice; Adrianna wondered if he even cared.