Bluebells on the Hill (7 page)

After a quick lunch, Amanda again set off,
this time to walk to Timber. She was going to call Dave and ask him
to send up her banjo. While she was at it, she’d reassure him she
had not forgotten about their meeting in Nashville to discuss a new
album with their producer. She dreaded the thought of leaving
already, even for a short trip. Still, she couldn't give up her
career, either. There were certain responsibilities and tasks to be
maintained, even when on a hiatus.

It was a pleasant walk to Timber, downhill
most of the way. Twice cars passed her, heading towards town. Each
time her heart skipped a beat. But there was no gray truck stopping
to give her a lift this day.

She had to walk the length of Timber, to the
bus depot, to the pay phone she remembered there. Depositing her
coins, it was only moments before the phone rang at the other end.
He’d be surprised to find her calling but not on her cell. Who knew
there were huge areas where no cell service could be found?

'Hello.' Loud music in the background almost
drowned out the speaker.

'Hi, Dave?'

'Huh? Yes, this is Dave. Hey, you guys, stop
a minute, I can't hear.' Gradually the background noise died
down.

'This is Dave,' he repeated.

'This is Amanda.'

'Well, where the deuce are you? We haven't
heard one word from you in ages.' As an aside, 'Yes, it's Amanda,
be quiet so I can hear her. 'Where are you? Do you realize we are
due in Nashville on the 26th?'

'Yes, I know. That's one reason I'm calling.
I haven't forgotten about it and will meet you on the 24th, in San
Francisco. I have a couple of songs I want your opinion on.'

'Bless me, the girl's gone writing again.
Yes, yes, two she says. Amanda, where are you?'

She looked around the small town fondly. 'In
a little town called Timber, in Calaveras County.'

There was a silence on the other end.

'Big trees and frogs; whatever are you doing
there?'

Amanda giggled at Dave's concept of Calaveras
County, the large sequoias and Mark Twain's celebrated jumping
frog. 'There's a lot more than just that here. It's a nice area. I
like it.'

'Are you in some hotel?'

'No. Dave, I bought a house. And I have a
creek and I’m panning for gold.'

'Bought a house? Are you kidding?'

Amanda could just picture his face. Dave was
strictly a city lover, for all he had been raised on a ranch as she
had been. His idea of a good place was the thirtieth floor of a big
hotel, complete with room service, spa facilities and an exercise
room.

'It's old, run down, off the beaten track and
glorious!'

He chuckled. 'I can imagine. Better you than
me. Okay, we'll meet you on the 24th at the hotel in San Francisco.
Don't be late, or I'll have apoplexy.'

'I won't. Can you send me my banjo? I'm
giving guitar lessons and said we'd do something with a banjo,
too.'

'Good grief, did I hear right? Lessons?
Amanda, what are you up to?'

'I'll explain when I see you. Send it care of
general delivery. I have Cora Rosefeld's old place, but don't know
if it has an address. I haven't seen a mailman yet.'

'I don't believe it,' Dave said faintly.
There was a chorus of voices in the background. 'Later,' Dave
hushed them. 'I'm writing this all down, Mandy. I think I have a
thousand questions.'

The phone clanged.

'Dave, I've got to go, no more change.
Bye.'

'Wait, aren’t you on your cell. No, you
aren’t. Where are you calling from? How can we get in touch with
you?'

'I'll be getting a phone at the house later.
Write to general delivery. I'll call you again. Got to go.
Bye.'

Amanda hung up and burst out laughing. She
wished she could be there. The speculation would be wonderful.
Probably all the background noise had been the rest of the crew
jamming. Well, she'd see them soon enough, explain then. Though
they would probably think she had lost her mind.

Her face sobered. She felt a twinge of
homesickness for the group. She and Dave and Marc and Joe, Phil,
Sam, and even Evie. Most of them were cousins. All had been friends
for years, ever since they had grown up together in Colorado.
They’d all worked hard to put together the production that was
'Amanda'. Except for Evie. Still she fit right in. Amanda wouldn't
be where she was today if not for them all. They enjoyed a special
closeness both in work and play and this was the first time she had
been away for an extended time since they had started out.

Yet there had to be some time given to other
pursuits, Amanda felt. Being a country singer was not all she
wanted from life. It was an important part, of course, but surely
personal satisfaction, a loving relationship, should be important,
too. She wanted to find the right man, get married and have
children. Not forsaking her career, but combining that and
marriage; working when she could, maintain a strong family
relationship to return to. She’d thought it out and had ideas and
plans for a smooth combination when the time came. Until then, she
wanted to branch out a little, away from Los Angeles, away from
Nashville, back to the basics. Time enough for marriage when the
right man came along. For now, Amanda was satisfied with her
career, her new ownership, and her plans for the future.

She walked back up the main street of town,
smiling at others as they passed. One or two looked familiar. She
had seen them before, though she didn't know their names. One she
did know. She stopped to exchange a few words with Martin Roberts
when they met.

'Settled in?' he asked.

'Sort of.' She smiled. 'I still have lots to
do to fix it up, but it'll do until then.'

He shook his head. 'I could have found you a
fine place, already in tip-top condition.'

'I like my little house,' she said
gently.

'Um. Mac still wants to buy it, you know. Let
me know if I can do anything for you.' He offered his hand.

'Thank you, Martin,' she replied, shaking it
firmly.

On impulse, Amanda stopped in Chad's to tell
the friendly clerk about her luck, or lack thereof, in panning for
gold. She was welcomed warmly and offered more bits of advice which
she promised to follow.

When she drew level with Paul's Pharmacy,
Amanda paused. A cold drink would be just right, especially with
the long walk ahead of her. It would take more than two hours
before she'd reach home.

She pushed open the door. The soda fountain
was along the left wall, a lazy ceiling fan giving an illusion of
coolness. The establishment was practically deserted. The wooden
floor creaked beneath her feet as she went to the counter.

She had a cold Coke, ignoring the curious
glances she received. A stranger in town was always cause for
comment. When finished, she wandered across to the book racks and
perused the bright covers of the ones on display. If she got one or
two, she could take them back to read in the evenings. Being alone
was a fine holiday, but sometimes one got just a trifle bored.

Amanda selected three, a mystery, a romance,
and a book on plant life in the Sierras. A young girl waited on
her, reminding Amanda of the clerk from Chad's.

'You have Mrs. Rosefeld's place now, don't
you?' the girl asked as she took the books.

Amanda smiled. 'Yes, that's right. Do you
think anyone will ever call it Mandy's place? Or only after I have
left?'

The girl giggled at this. 'Probably soon as
you leave. That'll be ten fifty for the books.'

Amanda set off for home. The walk back was
definitely more fatiguing than the walk to town had been. Still,
the quiet fragrant beauty of the wooded land gave a peaceful air of
serenity as Amanda trudged along. The sun was high in the sky, with
little shade on the roadside, and no air stirred the limbs of the
pines as she made her way uphill.

It was a long, hot walk. Arriving at her
cabin, Amanda's first task was a quick shower. She dressed in cool
shorts and a brief top, planning only to sit out on the deck with
one of her new books, to enjoy the quiet before dinner, soak up the
atmosphere of this little area of the country.

Preparing lemonade to take with her, she
heard a car door slam. Leaving the glass on the counter in the
kitchen, she walked through to the front, picking up her glasses as
she passed the table. Through the window she could see a large red
car, late model. Who could it be?

There came a rap at the door.

Amanda opened it to a slender, elderly,
white- haired lady. She was dressed in a cool, lemon yellow dress,
and sensible, yet stylish white shoes.

'Hello,' Amanda said.

'Are you Mandy Smith?' The visitor's voice
was rich and pleasant.

'Yes.'

'Well, how do you do? I'm Elizabeth Burke.
I've come to welcome you to Timber.'

'How nice. Do come in. Unless you'd rather
sit on the porch?' There were chairs on the porch. Where would her
visitor sit if she came inside?

'No, never held with baking in the sun. Dries
your skin. Hm. Haven't changed the old place much yet, have you?
Nice colors you added, though. Still, a lot could be done.'
Elizabeth Burke entered and made her way regally to a dining chair.
She sat gracefully, fixing her attention on Amanda.

'I confess I was very curious to meet you. I
have heard a great deal about you and wanted to see first hand,'
she said, studying Amanda for a long moment. Then she smiled.

Amanda did not know how to answer that. She
moved to sit on another chair, facing her visitor, and waited.

'Tell me about yourself,' Elizabeth invited.
'You don't look like a hippie to me, except for those glasses,
maybe.'

Amanda made a face. 'You've been talking to
Mac Mackenzie, I bet. He thinks I'm a hippie.'

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. 'Yes to both.
He's convinced Cora gave you this place just to plague him. He's
wanted it for years, you see.'

'Well, Cora most certainly did not give it to
me. I'm sorry he wanted it, but I have it and it is not available
for sale.'

Elizabeth's smile grew wider. 'If you talk to
him that way, it's no wonder he gets so fired up discussing
you.'

Amanda made no reply but her curiosity
seethed. Who was this woman and why was Mac discussing anything
with her?

'He's very upset with your presence, you
know. Not only because of wanting the property. You’re the first
woman he’s really had to deal with in ages who apparently doesn’t
fall over yourself to please him. Plus, he thinks you’re corrupting
his son.'

Amanda started to answer when she realized
exactly what Elizabeth had said.

'Corrupting his son? How ridiculous. What
next? I only offered to teach John-Michael how to play the guitar.
Is that corruption?'

'Only if you are a hippie, which Mac thinks
you are.' She surveyed the younger woman. 'How did you start
teaching John-Michael anyway?'

'I was playing one day when he came by. One
thing led to another and I agreed to show him the basics.'

Nodding her head, Elizabeth asked, 'And you
do play well, don't you?'

'Well enough,' Amanda replied cautiously.

'Yes, and sing, I understand.'

Amanda looked at her warily. 'Does it really
matter?'

'Yes. I'm chairman of our Labor Day Festival.
We have it each year on Labor Day at the fairgrounds. It's like a
big end of the summer party and hospital fund raiser. Each year we
have entertainment as part of the program. The couple we had lined
up for this year cannot make it. We just learned of it. It's too
late in the summer to get anyone, um big, you know. I thought
perhaps you could sing some songs we all know. We're all friends
and neighbors, nothing to get stage fright over.' Elizabeth sat
back and waited expectantly.

'I don't know,' Amanda said, reluctant to
even entertain the notion. This was to be her vacation, not a
busman's holiday.

'Tickets are sold and proceeds go to our
little hospital. It's a good cause, as well as being a part of the
town's end of summer tradition.' Elizabeth said.

'Maybe John-Michael will progress enough to
do something,' Amanda said.

'Oh, no, we want more than that. Besides, Mac
won't go near the festival, nor let John-Michael. That's when his
wife ran off, you know. No, Mac won't permit that.'

Amanda was startled. 'She ran off during a
festival?'

'During the end of summer festival. Yes. Liza
ran off with Cora's son. He’d come back that year to visit Cora. It
was the year he was one of our performers. We had a small group of
actors that year. He's an actor, you know.'

Amanda was fascinated. She slowly shook her
head. 'I don't know.'

'Yes, Liza, her name was Elizabeth, same as
mine, but she always wanted to be called Liza. And Doug is Cora's
son. They met and his life sounded so much more exciting to her
than a rancher's. So they left together. Right before the show.
Left us quite in the lurch. Short notice and all.'

Amanda was growing bewildered, trying to
follow Elizabeth's monologue. Who was left in the lurch, the
program, or Mac?

'Oh, well, that's a long time ago, now. This
will be our fourteenth annual event. Liza left at number two.'

'Mac's been alone for twelve years?' Amanda
said, surprised. He must have loved this Liza a great deal to have
remained single, devoted to her memory, for so long. Was he still
hoping she’d return, that they could start again together?

Unlikely.

'Well, yes. Mac doesn't like women much.'
Elizabeth shook her head sadly. 'He tolerates me because I'm his
aunt, but he really doesn't have any time for women. Pity, but
there it is.'

Another surprise. His aunt. Amanda was
beginning to feel like Alice at the tea party.

'I didn't realize you were Mac's aunt.'

'Of course. His mother was my sister, you
know. I think Mac tolerates me for her sake.' She sighed gently.
'He's kind to me, which is often more than I can say about his
behavior toward his boy. He doesn't always treat John-Michael the
way I think he should. I guess it is difficult to raise a child all
by yourself.'