T's Trial: A Bone Cold--Alive Novel by Sisk Kay Layton

Author:Sisk, Kay Layton [Sisk, Kay Layton]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: rock star, redemption, tornado, rural life, convience store, musicians, Texas, addiction, Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Kay Layton Sisk
Published: 2014-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Lyla opened her front door cautiously, shushing Harrison who was behind her. Their knocking had brought no results and the dock was empty. She assumed Fletch was already out cruising the lake, and surely at ten in the morning Sam was out of bed. Still, she tiptoed, calling softly. Harrison was sneaking into the kitchen and then checking the hot tub. She quietly went down the hall, but the beds were empty.

“They’re not here. Shoot, where could they have gone?” Harrison flopped down on the couch.

Lyla rested her hands on the tops of her hips. The place showed all the signs of two bachelors. Where to begin?

“I think I’ll walk back to the marina.”

“I think not. You begged to come, you’re in this for the long haul.”

“Mo—om.” He flounced back on the loveseat and thumped his sneakered heels against the floor.

Lyla divided the work between them. She started a washer load of towels and sent Harrison to vacuum. She checked the refrigerator and made a mental note of what seemed to be needed from the list she’d worked with a week before. Had it really been more than a week? Sam and Fletch seemed like a part of her life. More so than any other guests had. She was scribbling a note to ask Fletch if he wanted her to shop for him when the piano tinkled into life.

The tune was barely discernible through Harrison’s amateur efforts. He was struggling from chord to chord, finally giving up and playing the melody only. It was Sam’s jazz song from earlier in the week. He’d obviously worked on it, incorporating, she noted with a bit of pride, some of her ideas.

She laid the pen down and went into the living room. Harrison was concentrating on the scrawl left by the composer. He looked up when she stood beside him. “I just wanted to try it,” he explained. “There’s no fingering and it’s hard. I can’t even reach.” Lyla moved around behind him and easily handled the chord. It was slightly dissonant, in keeping with the style of the piece. “Play it for me, Mama.” Harrison slid over and patted the seat beside him.

“This is hardly doing our work,” she mumbled but she sat down and flipped the score paper back to the beginning. He had worked on it considerably. The accompaniment was fleshed out through three pages now. The timing was strong but varied. There were enough eighth and sixteenth notes to keep her fingers flying. Once she got into the rhythm, it was a fun piece. By the time the left hand quit on the fourth page, she had some definite ideas on editing the score. “You see a pencil?” Harrison spied one on the floor. He retrieved it for her and watched as she erased two chords and rewrote a third.

“Won’t Sam mind?”

Lyla quickly thought about the disruption her life took when he began playing her song from Wes. She owed him this. “Not in the least.”

Harrison listened to her for a minute as she made changes and gleefully rewrote through one score and then another.

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