Bluebells on the Hill (22 page)

A feeling of deja vu. Mac leaning against the
side, arms crossed, face angered. Amanda's heart sank. She didn't
blame him for being angry, there was a lot she had never told him.
What a way for him to find it out, too, just arrive and be slapped
in the face with the big bus, the crowds, all the things he had
never suspected about her. She wished more than ever that she had
told him of her career, or why she was spending the summer
incognito. Their time had been cut short.

He hated deceit, he had been very clear about
that the day of the picnic in the big clearing. She would have to
give a good presentation of why she had not told him initially who
she was, what she did. But later. Now she was so very glad to see
him; wasn't he glad to see her?

'Hi, Mac.' She stopped close to him, tilting
her head back to smile so happily up at him, shocked at the
glittering green eyes, the lines of disapproval and anger deep
set.

'The famous Amanda deigned to visit the
mountain yokels one more time. A triumphant return, I might
add.'

'I can explain ...' she began. Oh, oh, it
looks like explanations must come now, not later.

'Save your lies Amanda. I have been fooled
before and God help me it looks as if I have been again.'

'No.'

Mac stood up, towering above her, anger
emanating from every inch of him. 'What a fun summer, have a fling
with some gullible local, then high-tail it back to Los Angeles and
your lover there when things start turning serious here. Well,
serious is off, now. You've had your fun and I've had mine. I
should have taken more when I had the chance, but we're even now,
and quits!'

'No, Mac, please listen.' Amanda was scared.
She put a tentative hand on his arm. Had she ruined everything by
her desire for secrecy, by her wish to be just plain Mandy Smith
for a summer? He had to listen. Then he would understand. He had
to!

He glanced at her hand in disgust, shaking it
off.

'Next time, pretend a little more, Amanda. At
least tell the guy once that you love him, even though it will be a
lie, too.'

'I do. It's not a lie. Mac, listen to me.'
She was close to tears; he could not be so implacable that he
wouldn't even listen to her.

'I've heard it all before, Mandy, from Liza,'
he ground out, turned and stalked away, back rigid with
disapproval, visage black.

Amanda started to follow, but was again
impeded then blocked by more fans clamoring for autographs, for a
word from her. As her identity spread, more and more of Timber's
residents came over, some for pictures and one or two that she knew
to speak to her. The girl who had been so friendly in the drugstore
came over. 'Fancy you being so famous. I don't think we'll call it
Cora's house much longer.'

Amanda laughed with her, though her eyes
scanned the crowds, trying to locate Mac. Her heart was breaking.
How could she have been so stupid not to find a moment to tell
him.

Martin Roberts came up to her, reminiscing
about the day she bought Cora's house. Pam Haversham joined them,
then Elizabeth Burke and, lastly, John-Michael. Elizabeth spoke
first.

'My dear, John-Michael tells me you’re quite
famous, that it is quite a feather in our cap to have you for our
festival. I'm so pleased, but I'm sorry I didn't realize it before.
We are indebted to you for joining us today.'

'I'm glad to do it, Elizabeth. I still plan
to make Timber my home. I want to contribute to my home town's
events, too. If it's something people like, all the better.'

John-Michael gave her a quick hug, much to
the amazement of the onlookers. 'Glad to see you, Mom,' he
teased.

Amanda threw him an anguished look. 'I'm not
sure it's still on. Your dad's so mad at me.'

'Mac? Nonsense. He'll be delighted to find
out who you are and that the festival has such outstanding talent
today. He'll like it when he sees all we have done,' Elizabeth said
firmly. 'I'm so glad he came this year.'

Amanda smiled, nodding.

'John-Michael, why did you call her Mom?' Pam
Haversham asked, picking up on his words.

He looked questioningly at Amanda, then
grinned at Pam. 'I guess they're announcing it today. Dad's asked
her to marry him.' John-Michael grinned proudly.

Elizabeth stared at them, first one, then the
other, mouth agape. Finally summoning her wits she said, 'I never
thought I'd see the day. Welcome to the family, child. Good
gracious!' Miss Burke was bereft of words, as she gave Amanda a
tight hug.

'Well, I'm surprised,' Pam added. 'Best
wishes and all that!' She hugged Amanda as well.

‘
Thanks, Pam, I...'

Questions were asked, which Mandy fielded as
best she could. She and John-Michael strolled through the exhibits.
He proudly introduced her to everyone of his friends. They grabbed
a hotdog and before Mandy knew it, it was almost two.

'Time for a last minute check, Mandy,' Dave
called from the bus as they were returning.

Excusing herself with a promise to join
John-Michael after the show, she hurried to the bus.

'Where's the happy groom?' Dave asked,
scanning the crowds much as Amanda had earlier. His beard was
trimmed for the show, his cowboy outfit ornate with silver and
embroidery.

'Flaming angry with me,' she replied,
climbing into the bus.

Briefly, while she refreshed her make-up, she
explained. While her cousin disliked the thought of her living so
far away from the action, he understood her desire to marry the one
whom she thought would bring her as much happiness as his Evie
brought him.

'I'll talk to him, if you like,' Dave offered
when she had finished.

'I can't use a go-between all my life. Thanks
anyway. I'll just hunt him up after the show and make him listen to
me. I have some rights in this too, you know,' she said
spiritedly.

'Show time.' Joe popped his head in.

Taking a deep breath, Amanda gave a dazzling
smile. 'I'm ready.'

The day was warm, the sun shone in a
cloudless sky, a gentle breeze kept the air temperate. There were
people milling around, some playing the games at the far end of the
field. Many were still eating, enjoying the festive atmosphere,
enjoying the camaraderie of their friends and neighbors in this,
the last big community event before the inclement weather forced
people to keep indoors.

The majority of the town, however, was seated
on the benches and chairs set up for the entertainment event or
sprawled on blankets spread for the best view of the stage.

Amanda and Dave walked together to the steps
at the rear of the portable stage. The disjointed twang of guitars
being tuned, of amplifiers being adjusted, could be heard over the
noise of the crowd. Amanda paused, feeling the surge of adrenalin
that preceded performances. She loved it. The excitement, the
challenge of bringing pleasure and entertainment to hundreds of
people. All through the gift of music that had been given to
her.

She knew she was fortunate in her chosen
field. A lot of luck went into their achieving stardom, and in such
a relatively short time, less than ten years. Still, they all had
worked hard to be where they were, Dave, Sam, Joe, Marc, and Phil.
They were a team and she would never want to give it up, not
completely.

If she married Mac; no, she lifted her chin,
when she married Mac, she would curtail some of the traveling, but
not all. She loved it too much to quit. He would have to take this
part of her as well as the rest of her. This career had contributed
to making her the person she was today, the one he had asked to
marry him.

She heard the opening music, mounted the
stairs and burst out into view to the thunderous applause of the
citizens of Timber. Taking the microphone from Dave with a bright
smile, she launched immediately into the first song, 'Riverboat
gambler, you take too many chances...’

The applause rose as the audience expressed
their approval, drowning out the first few lines, then died away as
everyone settled back to enjoy familiar songs performed by a top
professional.

Amanda did her best for her new town, her
band backing her to the limit. As she sang, joyfully, with great
enthusiasm, she let her eyes browse through the crowd, recognizing
people here and there; a committee member she had met at
Elizabeth's; the old man from the bus depot; John-Michael. With a
small shock she saw Mac seated beside his son, his aunt on his
other side. His hat was pulled low, shading his features. Her eyes
passed on. Sally Sutherland and her father were on the far side of
Elizabeth; Pam and Ron Haversham back towards the rear of the
crowd.

When she finished her first song she moved
right into Heartbroken Dreamer... another popular song. And then
another. And another.

When the series ended, the band became quiet.
Amanda, smiling brightly, waited for the applause to die down, then
spoke to the crowd.

'Happy Labor Day.' She smiled again as the
people clapped, whistled, yelled back. It was an exuberant group.
Easy to please, warm and friendly.

'Thank you for your warm welcome. We're glad
to be here.'

Again she had to pause, happiness and
goodwill welling up inside her at the enthusiastic reception.

'I'd like to introduce everyone up here to
you. As a lot of you already know, we're a family group. Didn't
plan on it, it just happened. We all grew up together in a little
town outside Durango, in Colorado. Played together, ventured forth
together. And, here we are. On the drums, cousin Sam Perkins, on
Mama's side, you know. Bass guitar, Phil Perkins, Sam's brother.
Rhythm guitar, Joe Williams, Mama's side again. Electric piano,
Marc Johnson. Mama’s part of a large family.'

The crowd, applauding after each
introduction, roared with laughter.

'My main man, manager, promoter, dearest
friend and cousin, on Daddy's side, Dave Smith.'

Amanda waited for silence before
continuing.

'As some of you know, I moved to Timber a few
months ago, bought Cora Rosefeld's old place. I figure in fifty
years or so you will call it Mandy's old place, or old Mandy's
place, by then ... Timber's a grand place to live ...'

The crowd would not let her continue, they
showed their approval in a thunderous round.

'And ... I have written a few songs since
I've been here. I want to share them with you. If they bomb out,
maybe as neighbors, you'll let me down easy.'

She nodded to Dave and, when the clapping
diminished, the music started.

'Bluebells on the hill, nodding in the hot
Sierra sun ...' She sang the song she'd first written, in the early
days of her life in Timber, to an enthusiastic response. She
followed it with the second one she had done. Moving into a duet
with Dave, a slow ballad, then song after song made famous over the
last five years. All were recognized, liked, popular. The program
ran far, far longer than Elizabeth's estimated hour, but no one
seemed anxious for it to end.

Finally she dropped the microphone beside her
legs, turning to Dave for a quick moment, then back to then
audience.

'Two more and we'll call it quits.'

Groans and protests arose from the townsfolk.
She raised a hand.

'One of them is the most recent one I wrote
here.'

She licked her lips nervously, again looked
at Dave, grinning at her.

'Remember,' she said for him alone, 'when
this one is done, go right into Sing the Mountain Down. Don't pause
at all.'

'They'll love it,' he encouraged.

She took a breath, waiting for the music's
cue.

Her strong, clear alto rose over the crowd,
filling every corner of the field with the sweet harmony, the words
sung simply, clearly and from her heart.

'She didn't need the mike,' one listener said
afterward.

'Beautiful, strong voice, lovely song,' said
another.

'Did you see his face?' asked a third. 'I
watched him, you know, I saw it.'

Amanda's voice carried conviction as her
voice swelled for the chorus, her eyes only for Mac now,

'... I love a rancher ... I love a rancher
...'

Mac stared back at her, too far away for
Amanda to see him clearly, to see how he was taking her song. She
noticed John-Michael looked at his dad, with a grin as big as his
face, but Mac steadfastly stared at Amanda.

.. And glory be, glory be, ... the rancher
loves me...'

People turned to look at Mac, neighbor
nudging neighbor as the word spread. Grins appeared on faces,
attention split between the singer and Mac Mackenzie.

'Look at his eyes.' A neighbor nudged a
friend.

'The song is about Mac Mackenzie.'

'The song's right, too, he looks as if he
adores her,' the friend replied.

Again and again the chorus rang out, filling
the fairground of Timber, California, filling the people's minds
and hearts with delight.

'... I love a rancher ... and glory be, the
rancher loves me ...'

The audience went wild. Stood as they clapped
and whistled and cheered. On and on the thunderous ovation
continued. Amanda blinked her eyes, trying to clear them of the
tears that blurred her vision, smiling tremulously at the people.
She turned to Dave, with a questioning look; why no lead into the
next song? He just smiled and shrugged. No point, who would hear
with the noise the audience was making?

Amanda turned back to the crowd. She could no
longer see Mac, nor others she knew, just a sea of happy,
applauding fans. She bowed again and again, happy they liked her
song. How had Mac liked it? That was the real question.

As soon as the tumult died a little, Dave
started up the music. Sing the Mountain Down had hit the top of the
charts, was still very popular and soon she was well into it. Into
it and finished. At last, the show was over.