Lost Melody (40 page)

A new, disturbing insight took shape.
“You used me as a pawn to keep him, didn’t you? Why didn’t you stay
with him? Why didn’t we live at Ravenswood like a real
family?”

“Milton loved you, and he loved his
music. I thought if I took you away, he would forget about the
music, and we could be a family. But he wouldn’t quit touring, not
even for you. I couldn’t stand competing with the music, the fans,
and the adrenaline highs. I couldn’t live that way. I wanted to be
a family. He wanted his music more than he wanted you…or
me.”

“You pushed him away, Mother. You
could have had it all, but you laid out an ultimatum he couldn’t
accept. Don’t you see? You could have had at least ten more years
with him? Instead, you used me as the bait to get scraps of time
with the man you loved.” She wiped tears from her cheeks with the
back of her hand. “I feel sorry for you, Mom. He might still be
alive if we had been together as a family. He wouldn’t have even
been on a plane if we had been in Denver with him or waiting for
him at Ravenswood.” She slid the plane ticket back into the
envelope.

“You would have been on the plane with
him the next day,” her mother said.

“No. We would have been on a
commercial flight out of Denver International. Uncle Jonathan said
Daddy changed the plans to a charter flight after they got to
Denver. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know it was because you were
using me as a pawn in your pathetic life.”

She knew what she needed to do. Half
running down the short hallway to the bedrooms, she opened the door
to the room she had grown up in. It was just as she’d left it when
she went to college at seventeen.

She had been running away from the
guilt then. Sweet Briar College had been a perfect place for her to
hide. The beautiful, sprawling campus at the edge of the Blue Ridge
Mountains was quiet and easily missed unless one knew it was there.
She had known no curious reporters would think to look for her
there, and she had been right.

She’d chosen Willowbrook for the same
reason.

Hank was right. She’d been running and
hiding. It was time to stop.

Suddenly, her mother's obsession with
staying out of the media spotlight made more sense. Her mother was
afraid someone would find out about the plane ticket, and then the
world would know what she had done. Some nosy reporter would piece
together the puzzle, and everyone would know.

That's why she'd insisted they live
almost like fugitives. Uncle Jonathan never coming to the house,
always meeting her mother and Melody in out of the way places for
his twice-yearly visits.

Her mother had drilled it
into her.
“Don't draw attention to
yourself. Don’t tell anyone your real name. Mel Harper. Remember,
you’re just Mel Harper from San Diego.”

Melody glanced around the
room.

I’m tired of being Mel
Harper. I’m Melody Ravenswood, and I’m going to be Melody
Travis.

On the shelf in the small closet, she
found the shoebox where she’d stashed her childhood
keepsakes.

Her mother came into the room. “What
are you doing?”

Melody spread the contents over the
bedspread. “I know it’s here.” She sifted through the old photos,
broken charms, and assorted ribbons. At last she found it—the key
to Ravenswood.

Her father had given it to her when
she was seven or eight—she couldn’t remember which. It wasn’t
important. The old skeleton key fit the lock on the front door to
Ravenswood. No one used the door anymore. Sometime in the late
nineteenth century, a new door on the side of the house had become
the most used entrance to the manor house, but the key would still
open the real front door.

She wrapped her fist around the key
and faced her mother. “I’ve already wasted too much time I could
have spent with Hank. I don’t care if we have five days or fifty
years together. I want to spend every minute of it with him.” She
swept past her mother.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes. You made your choices, and I'm
making mine. I choose to be Melody Ravenswood. I choose Hank. He
loves me. He’s offering me a life and a family, and I’m going to go
get it and hang on to it with both fists for as long as I
can.”

She left her mother standing
slack-jawed in the doorway.

From the moment her hand closed around
the key to Ravenswood, she began to formulate her plan. Her heart
was light for the first time she could remember. The guilt she’d
harbored for so long vanished in the light of the truth about her
father’s plane crash. Her mother’s part in setting the whole thing
into motion and perpetuating Melody's misery brought only pity for
the woman whose choices resulted in a lifetime of bitterness and
loneliness.

Her mother would have to live with her
choices, but Melody didn’t have to suffer along with her. There was
something bright and shiny waiting for her—a life with Hank, and
she had the key to it. All she had to do was use it.

She had plenty of time on the flight
back to the East Coast to think about what she had learned in the
last few days. No one thing had led to her father’s death, but
rather a series of choices and decisions shaped fate. At long last,
Melody decided blame was best placed on the tragic mistake, which
resulted in water leaking into the airport’s underground fuel
tanks.

She took small comfort in knowing her
father's decision to leave early had surely spared the lives of his
friends and fellow band members. As for her mother's part in it,
she tried to hate her, but when Melody peered in her heart, she
found only pity for the woman who raised her. Her mother had let
jealousy, pride, and her own selfishness cheat her out of time
spent with a man who had loved her.

Hamilton Earl Ravenswood left behind a
legacy of music, not the least of which was “Melody”, the song that
inspired young Henry Travis Jr. to focus his life on music. A new
legacy was forming from the association—a legacy and legend Melody
wanted to be a part of.

Hank had put his own stamp on the
song, molded the lyrics to tell a story close to his heart. Thanks
to him, the song no longer haunted her sleep. In her dreams, she
heard Hank's voice singing of a love so deep and passionate it
claimed her soul.

She no longer cared if the media
circus followed them to the ends of the earth. It was a price she
was willing to pay to be with the man she loved. She wanted to be
with him on the road, at the farm, or Ravenswood. Their children
would have the best of all the different worlds their family would
live in. It was a glimpse of Heaven, and she wanted it.

Sunny met her at the airport in
Philadelphia. She had booked rooms in her name at the hotel where
the band was staying, so no one would know Melody was there until
she wanted them to.

“I need to find a good jeweler. Do you
know any in Philadelphia?” she asked.

Sunny put her considerable contacts
into action, and before long, they were at a recommended jeweler.
Melody interrogated him before she was convinced to part with the
key to Ravenswood. Assured the job would be complete and delivered
to her in less than twenty-four hours, she returned to the hotel to
work on the next part of her plan.

The band arrived by bus a few hours
later. She called Jonathan’s suite and asked him to come to hers. A
few minutes later, Miriam engulfed her in a warm, motherly hug then
passed her to Jonathan for more of the same.

“How are you dear?” Miriam asked.
“We’ve been so worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Better than fine actually,
but I need your help.” She filled them in on her plan.

She had to ask, “How is
Hank?”

“He’s holding up, I guess,” Miriam
answered.

“He’s been writing a lot of music on
the bus,” Jonathan added. “At least, I think he has. He sits at his
computer surrounded by a bunch of newfangled electronic stuff and
barely acknowledges our existence. I’ll be glad when he finds out
you’re here. Maybe he’ll be more social again.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Jonathan. I didn’t
want to hurt him and I promise to spend the rest of my life making
it up to him.”

He hugged her tight. “I think you’re
headed in the right direction. He’s going to be so surprised. I
can’t wait to see the expression on his face.”

“You’ll talk to the rest of the band
for me?”

“Consider it done,” Jonathan
said.

“Make sure they don’t breathe a word
to Hank. I want it to be a surprise.”

“I promise, luv. The man won’t know a
thing until you’re ready for him to.”

“You’ve heard Hank’s first version of
‘Melody’ haven’t you?”

He nodded. “Once.”

“Good.” She pinched his sleeve and
tugged him over to the suite’s grand piano. She pulled him onto the
bench beside her. “I think I remember it, but it has to be
perfect.”

Jonathan helped her through a few
measures she wasn’t sure of and listened while she played it
through on her own.

“Excellent! You’re as scary as your
father with that play it by ear thing, but Hank isn’t going to know
what hit him.”

“Tomorrow night then?”

“Everything will be ready,” Jonathan
promised.

Miriam hugged her before she and
Jonathan returned to their suite. “I’m so happy for you and Hank.
I’ve known him all his life, and I think you’re everything he’s
been waiting for.”

“Thank you, Miriam. I hope I can live
up to his expectations.”

Miriam came by the next morning to see
how Melody was doing.

“Listen to this,” Melody said. She
played the song through for Miriam. When she was through, she
asked, “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” Miriam said. “I
can’t believe you have such a natural talent. It must be wonderful
to have such a gift.”

“I haven’t thought of it as a gift. My
first thought when I discovered I could play by ear was horror. I
felt like a freak of nature. But I find it’s a great stress
reducer. Over the last few months, playing has helped me get past
the insomnia I’ve struggled with since Daddy died.

When I was at Ravenswood, I would go
to the music room in the evening and play Hank’s version of
‘Melody’ over and over. Eventually, I was able to
sleep.”

“It’s certainly a gift. A gift from
your father to help you cope.”

She hadn’t considered her
ability in that light. “Thank you, Miriam. I like your view of the
situation. Maybe it
is
a gift from Daddy to help me get through life. I sure hope so
because I’m relying on it to get myself a husband and a
family.”

Jonathan arrived in time to overhear
her last comment. “Oh, I have no doubt this stunt of yours is going
to get you what you want.” He crossed the room to place a soft kiss
on Miriam’s temple. “If Hank doesn’t fall at your feet tonight,
I’ll beat him with his own sticks.”

“Thanks, Uncle Jonathan. I’ll hold you
to that.”

“It won’t be necessary. He’ll be a
blithering fool the moment he sees you.”

Chapter Forty

Hank went through the final concert at
Madison Square Garden like a zombie. He had lied to Melody—again.
He’d told her he could go on without her.

Yeah, right.

Just the thought of continuing on
without her was enough to bring him to his knees. Even though she
wasn’t in the arena to hear it, “Melody” came from the depth of his
soul and wrenched his gut into a tight knot of pain.

He choked down a few bites of each
meal with Rick standing over him like a trainer with his
prizefighter. Each day with no word from Melody brought him a day
closer to being alone for the rest of his life, and he had no one
to blame but himself. Forcing her to confront her demons on his
schedule and choose them or a life with him had to be the stupidest
thing he had ever done.

She still had the key, and he clung to
the hope she would know in her heart that he’d lied about that,
too. If she came to him in ten years, key in hand, he would fall on
his knees and beg her to stay.

Too many lies.

He’d been a fool, and he knew
it.

Boston passed in a blur of pain and
routine. If his friends found his on-stage performance deficient,
they said nothing. He attributed it to the deep friendship they
shared, not to his performances. He knew they lacked enthusiasm,
but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

He spent his free time with his music.
Most of what he’d composed was crap, just a mindless distraction
and nothing more. The band and crew didn’t know it, though, and
they left him alone.

The trip to Philadelphia was
excruciating. Melody didn’t call. She hadn’t been at any of the
Boston concerts. He didn’t know whether she’d returned to London or
Willowbrook or if she had blasted off to Mars. He tortured himself,
devising ways to find out what she was doing and then tossing them
aside.