Knight Music Read online

  Joe sucked in his breath. “That I don’t know. He’s a good guy, but. . .”

  That matched her impression, and she nodded. “We’ll just have to pray him into the kingdom then.” She opened the door.

  “Do you want me to ask Mum if she knows anything more about what happened?”

  Should she? Sonia shook her head. “No. He’s entitled to a fresh start. That’s why I’m here, after all.” Ulysses, headquarters for extreme career makeovers. She’d keep her concerns between herself and God for now.

  ❧

  Ty wondered if he should have purchased extra trash bags when he had the chance. Autumn had begun to drop its canopy onto the ground. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and looked at the jumble of golden leaves piled in front of him. He’d bag this last pile and call it quits for the day. His muscles might ache in the morning, but for now he was riding an endorphin high that came with fresh air and exercise.

  That, plus the anticipation of seeing Sonia again at choir rehearsal tomorrow night. Would she object if he stopped by the studio during the day? He wanted to see for himself if she had made any breakthroughs. She deserved better than teaching classes to local yokels in a small town like Ulysses.

  He raked up a forkful of aspen leaves, still damp from an afternoon shower yesterday. Like it or not, he had earned whatever hard times came his way. He hadn’t mishandled the funds from the retirement accounts at Knight Industries, but neither had he performed a thorough audit. He had allowed the fraud to happen, and even worse, he’d been caught, bringing shame on the family name, and that was enough for his father to banish him.

  Whereas all Sonia had done was create a magnificent painting and commission his cousin to sell it for her.

  Ty tugged a few stragglers off the rake with his hands. Too much yard work would leave his office-pampered hands raw. Unable to play the violin, which he enjoyed even more than playing lord of the manor. Tomorrow he would invest in a pair of work gloves.

  Of course, the robbery had affected Joe and the rest of the family as well. Ty regretted what happened to all of them. He dropped another pile of dripping leaves into the trash bag. Why else would he try so hard to be everything the Knight family could want or need?

  He dumped the last bit of leaves into the bag and tied it shut. The satisfaction he felt in joining the choir and raking leaves faded when he remembered the spark he had seen in Sonia’s eyes at Limon. He had caught a glimpse of the real woman at last.

  He carried the bags to the castle’s Dumpster. He gritted his teeth. Whatever it took, come what may, he would ensure that spark remained in Sonia’s eyes permanently.

  ❧

  A light knock rapped at the back door. Sonia ignored it, hoping whoever it was would leave. When the knock repeated, she swept the sketches she had spread across the table into her folder and threw a drop cloth over the easel.

  Ty stood at the door, holding a bunch of fresh-cut asters and chrysanthemums. “For you. I begged Aunt Nel’s permission.” Ty hesitated before smiling, as if uncertain of his reception.

  “Come in.” She couldn’t remember the last time someone had brought her flowers. She took an empty paint jar from the shelf.

  “Let me.” Ty tore open a florist’s packet and stirred it into water before adding the flowers. “That should keep them fresh.” He looked around the room for a good resting place, settling on a spot between two art books on a shelf about shoulder high.

  He sat at the table where she had laid her folder. “Are you free for supper?” He glanced at the folder and the covered easel. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s going well.” Until you interrupted me. “In fact, I’m hoping to work right up until choir. I should have natural light until then.” She glanced at the skylight, afraid a thundercloud might appear as it so often did in the late afternoon.

  Ty spread his hands in front of him on the table. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Ty.” Sonia let her agitation show. “I prefer to work alone.”

  A flash of something—anger? hurt? confusion?—flashed in Ty’s dark eyes. Then he regained his charming demeanor. “I want to help you if I can. To find that tiny fissure of light that will lead through the dark mountains of despair.”

  Sonia froze. He had given a good description of the stolen painting, one he had never seen. “How did you do that? Describe my painting, the one that was stolen?”

  Ty tipped his chair on its back legs and blinked. A vague expression dampened the light in his eyes. “Joe must have shown me a picture. Or maybe I saw it on your website.”

  “Maybe.” But not recently. She had deleted it right after the robbery, as if removing it from public view could erase the pain and memory from her heart.

  “I know it made a big impression on my cousin.” Ty grimaced. “I wish I could have seen it on display in his studio.” His facial expression turned into an infectious grin. “I may not be able to draw a straight line, but I appreciate fine art when I see it.” He stood. “Sure you won’t change your mind? I could serenade you with my violin while you work.”

  Against her will, a smile curved Sonia’s mouth. “No, really.” He looked so chagrined that she relented. “But maybe you can come over to the house after rehearsal. We’ve got a mean jigsaw puzzle going.”

  Ty let loose a loud laugh, a sound that brightened the air in the studio as much as sunrise. “Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse. Au revoir.” He winked and left.

  Sonia glanced at the clock. Half past five. Joe would close up shop soon. Ty’s interruption had eaten valuable time. She sighed, shook her head, and rubbed her eyes before opening her folder, studying the pages in the order she wanted to use them. Several sketches of a green-winged teal in flight chronicled the rise from earthbound creature to the freedom of flight. A transformation that resonated within her heart as she longed to leave behind the despair that weighed her down and once again float weightless in the freedom of God’s creativity.

  That one appealed. But so did the V formation landing on the water, the beauty, unity, security of migrating birds. Or the killdeer nuzzling the neck of its mate.

  I need to paint more than one picture. She would start with a series of small watercolors. If they turned out well, she could turn them into limited print runs which would generate income and prove she’d broken out of her slump. Six months allowed plenty of time to work on the large canvas later.

  As Sonia tacked her paper to the easel, she checked her spirit. Had she made the right decision? A shadow appeared in the skylight, and she glanced up to see a dove peering through the glass, checking out the human below. God had sent a dove to look over her shoulder; Sonia didn’t need further affirmation. She prepared her palette and selected her brush. Choosing a heron for the subject of her first painting, she began working.

  When Sonia arrived at the church about a minute late, Josh was already leading in prayer. So, he was the punctual type. She would keep that in mind, since she tended to lose track of time when she got into a project.

  The prayer ended, and Joe made a joke, something about singing in falsetto because the men’s part went so high. After that the choir settled down to work. Sonia didn’t have anything to do until they practiced with the tape. While she waited, she studied the choir members, matching names to faces. She knew most of the guys—Joe, Ty, the jovial Max who had taken Ty under his wing, Hugh, Andy, the guy who sang with the praise team. The gal sitting next to Ty came to their Sunday school class. She offered him her copy of the music.

  “Sonia?”

  She raised her head. Ty wiggled his eyebrows, and she wondered if Josh had called her name more than once. She checked the controls in front of her. “Ready.” At a nod from Josh, she turned it on, but it only spit and sputtered.

  She pushed the Eject button and the CD slid out, looking unharmed. “Let me try again.” At Josh’s nod, she pressed Play one more time. This time the monitor screen in front of her went blank. A cold dread washed over her. “
Something’s wrong.”

  “Let me see.” Josh dashed up to the sound booth and ran his hands expertly over the keyboard, but nothing changed. He frowned. “It’s given up the ghost at last.” He sighed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Not to worry, there was nothing you could have done.” He walked back to the choir. “It looks like we’ll have to sing with the piano on Sunday.” The pianist ran through the piece like a true professional, and the choir rewarded her with a round of applause.

  At least the choir mics still worked, so Sonia felt like she contributed something. After dismissal, Josh approached her. “Can you come to the next orchestra rehearsal? We’re performing a week from Sunday and need to check sound levels.”

  “Of course.” She’d love a chance to hear Ty play. She gestured to the silent computer. “Do you expect to have this repaired by Sunday?” The outline for the pastor’s sermon, music lyrics, videos that played during the offering and Lord’s Supper—so much of morning worship depended on it.

  Josh shook his head. “Barb warned us this might happen. She’s been holding it together by a shoestring. We’ve budgeted money to replace it for the last couple of years, but we keep running out of year before we get the money.” He shrugged. “Could you run it from a laptop?”

  ❧

  Ty pulled into Sonia’s driveway and jumped out of the car. She opened the door before he had a chance to knock. “I’m fixing myself a salad. Do you want anything to eat?”

  “I almost forgot.” Ty returned to the car and picked up a wrapped package. “Since you refused to join me for dinner, I picked up a club sandwich for you. Figured since it has a little bit of everything, there was bound to be something you liked.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” But Sonia took a bite.

  Michelle wandered into the living room. “Hi there. Sonia told me you were going to join our puzzle team.” She looked over his shoulder. “Did Joe come with you?”

  Joe? Ty blinked. “Uh, no. He slipped out a few minutes before I left.”

  Michelle shrugged. “That’s okay. It’s a late night.”

  “I promise I won’t stay too long. Lead me to this killer puzzle.”

  Seven

  “Don’t tell me. Aunt Nel gave you this puzzle,” Ty quipped when he saw the fairy-tale-themed picture. “Even the castle looks familiar.”

  Michelle giggled. “No, Joe gave it to me.”

  Sonia turned on an overhead light. “I want any red pieces you find. I’m trying to piece together Little Red Riding Hood.”

  Ty slid onto a chair on the opposite side of the folding table. “I’ll tackle the Big Bad Wolf. Which means I need gray.” He found the figure on the box cover. “And white. Grandma Wolf. What big bad teeth you have.” He pulled back his lips and flashed his teeth in a snarling smile.

  “That’s not quite white.” Sonia stared at the picture. “There’s a tinge of yellow. More of an ecru.”

  He looked at Michelle, and they both laughed. “Only an artist would worry about that.” Ty pointed to Red Riding Hood on the box cover. “Is her cape really red? Or is it crimson or vermilion or, I don’t know, cherry?”

  “Just plain red will do.”

  Ty took the box that held the spare pieces and checked them one by one. “What was Josh saying about needing to replace the computer?”

  Michelle looked up. “What’s that?”

  “The computer died tonight,” Sonia said. “Barb’s been holding it together with a shoestring, but my capabilities don’t extend that far. I know how to run it, not fix it.”

  “Oh dear. Hey, I need that piece.” Michelle grabbed a bit of yellow from the box lid and stuck it into the plume of Puss ’n Boots’s hat.

  “So why don’t they replace it?” Ty found what looked like a gray paw enclosed in frilly white lace.

  “Not enough money. There’s been a shortfall between budget and offerings since I’ve been here. Bills and salaries take priority.”

  Ty matched the paw to an arm encased in white linen. “So they plan on replacing the system but haven’t raised the money yet.”

  “That’s it in a nutshell.” Michelle gave a cry of delight. “Oh look, there’s the missing edge piece.” She snapped it into place.

  “I guess her cape is more of a cranberry color.” Sonia tried piecing a couple of pieces together but had to pry them apart.

  “Are there other projects like that? Things the church has had to put off doing for lack of funds?”

  Michelle shrugged. “Probably. I could get a copy of the budget and find out, or Joe might know. Why? Do you have a small fortune you’re looking to donate?” She grinned as she snapped Puss ’n Boots in place at the point where his paw held the foil.

  “No.” Ty found the puzzle piece with the wolf’s not-quite-white teeth. Snagging it into place, he contemplated the situation. He might not have money, but he knew how to raise it.

  ❧

  Between them, Ty and Sonia finished enough of Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf to join the two figures together and position them in the puzzle.

  After that, Ty excused himself without extending an invitation for a future date. Sonia fixed herself a cup of Goodnight tea and told herself it didn’t matter.

  Michelle joined her in the kitchen. “What’s happening with you and Ty? I don’t know many guys who would spend an evening working on a jigsaw puzzle.”

  Sonia took some carrot sticks from the fridge. “He’s funny and charming and considerate. But. . .”

  “But what?” Michelle opened a cabinet and removed a box of crackers.

  “How much do you know about him?” Like why his father sent him away.

  “He’s Joe’s cousin.” Michelle made it sound like that was all that mattered.

  “I know that. But have they spent much time together before now? I mean, it’s not like they could hop in a car and get together for weekends when they were growing up.” Sonia thought of her relatives in Brazil, people she had met in person only once.

  “I’m not sure. But they’ve grown pretty close in the short time he’s been here. Like another brother, Joe says.” Michelle snapped a cracker in half. “Why all the curiosity? Considering him as husband material?”

  Heat seeped into Sonia’s cheeks. “Sometimes Ty says something that doesn’t add up. And I know there were problems in Virginia.” She munched on a carrot. “I’m not even sure if he’s a Christian. I don’t know, maybe I’m looking for trouble where none exists.”

  “Enter the dark knight.” Michelle grinned at her roommate. “Tynan. When someone commented on how dark complected he was compared to Joe and Brian, he told us his name means ‘dark.’ ” She placed the crackers back on the shelf. “Nel is crazy about Ty, and she’s a pretty good judge of character.”

  Alone with her prayer journal a few minutes later, Sonia sketched Ty piecing together the Big Bad Wolf. Then she added a figure in a chain mail suit. Wolf or dark knight? Both possibilities left her uneasy.

  ❧

  When Saturday morning rolled around, Sonia tucked away the completed heron watercolor. Her Limon Wetland series was off to a good start.

  But she wasn’t ready to share them with the world, so she put them in her cabinet and locked the door. Today’s lesson in the children’s class revolved around mixing colors. The fact that blood red and serene blue became regal purple when combined never ceased to amaze her. The transformation of sky blue and sunshine yellow into green, the color of growth, seemed a little more predictable.

  Watching children discover the magic for the first time reawakened the wonder in her spirit every time.

  In addition to paint, she offered Play-Doh in primary colors. She remembered her shock the first time red and blue Play-Doh became lavender when she rolled them together. Unfortunately, after she added yellow and green and every other color she had on hand, it became a muddy brown.

  Another time she might bring homemade play dough and let the kids add their choice of scent and food coloring.
Youngsters seemed to love that.

  Today the kids would choose the medium they wanted to use, paint or Play-Doh. Rolling the mushy substance with their hands kept some kids engaged whose attention might otherwise wander.

  The door opened behind her, and Joe joined her at the table. “All set?”

  “Yup.” She took the paintings the children had finished last week and set them out, one by each chair.

  “I’d separate those two.” Joe pointed to paintings signed by Tommy and Jared. “They’re both sweet but get them together and. . .”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Sonia slipped one painting three seats down from the first.

  “And here they come.” Joe opened the door. His nieces Pepper and Poppy raced through. Soon two dozen chattering children filled the room. Joe’s help was a godsend. Sonia didn’t know how he managed children’s classes on his own.

  Tommy turned out to be a gap-toothed boy of six or seven. He chose paint and took pains in mixing yellow and blue together. After he finished, he painted a yellow sun with rays in one corner and added a band of blue sky across the top and green grass at the bottom before outlining a couple of fleecy clouds with blue paint. He tugged on Sonia’s elbow. “I need black paint.”

  “We’re not using black today.” Sonia bent over and studied his painting. “That’s such a pretty day.”

  “I want black paint.” Tommy raised his voice, and his lower lip trembled.

  Sonia tried to distract him. “I bet some yellow flowers would look nice on your grass.”

  The door opened, and Sonia caught a glimpse of Ty entering.

  “I don’t want yellow flowers. I want a soccer ball.” Tears glistened in Tommy’s eyes.

  “Did I hear someone mention soccer? I happen to know a thing or two about soccer.” Ty winked at Sonia over Tommy’s head. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I coached a soccer team once. And guess what?” He produced a jar of red paint and placed it in the paint tray in front of the boy. “My team always used red-and-white balls. They thought they were cool.”