"Silly of course not!"
Through the window, she saw headlights pierce the rain-dark afternoon as Jake's truck pulled up. Nathan returned, his presence filling the room with that same sense of comfort and safety she'd felt earlier. Nathan nodded toward the kitchen. "Do you want something else to drink? Coffee, maybe?"
"Always," Harper assured him, and followed him into the kitchen. A complex coffeemaker sat on the counter, loaded with electronic buttons and a display, and a place for a K cup. However, a half-full pot of coffee sat on the burner, and Nathan poured two cups out.
"Do you take anything in it? I've got half-and-half, if you like."
Harper snickered to herself.Men. "Half-and-half is fine," she said aloud. "And a little sugar, just enough to take the bite off."
"You got it," he said, moving to the refrigerator.
A few minutes later, coffee cups in hand, he led her down the hallway
Harper followed Nathan down the hallway, noting the warm, honey-colored hardwood floors beneath her feet. Family photos lined one wall - candid shots of two musicians, both of whom shared Nathan's sandy hair and warm brown eyes. The other wall displayed framed sheet music, some yellowed with age, others pristine and new.
Soft natural light filtered through a small window at the end of the hall, illuminating what had to be an heirloom grandfather clock. Harper's breath caught at the sight. The clock stood regally against the wall, its dark mahogany case gleaming with the patina only age and careful polishing could achieve. Delicate brass filigree adorned the face, framing Roman numerals that had been etched with exquisite precision.
"Oh my goodness," Harper breathed, stepping closer to admire the craftsmanship. "This is absolutely gorgeous." She leaned in to study the intricate pendulum swinging behind the glass door, its steady rhythm almost hypnotic. The brass bob caught the light, sending tiny reflections dancing across the walls.
"It was my great-grandfather's," Nathan said. "He brought it over from Europe in 1922."
Harper ran her fingers lightly over the carved details adorning the hood. "The woodwork is incredible. You don't see craftsmanship like this anymore."
He guided her to an open doorway. Sunlight streamed through two large sash windows on the far wall, casting warmrectangles across the polished hardwood floor. Bookshelves lined the walls to the left and right, their wooden shelves brimming with sheet music and leather-bound volumes. Gleaming string instruments hung like artwork on either side of the door, while scattered tables and music stands created intimate practice spaces throughout. A magnificent baby grand piano commanded attention from one end of the room, its ebony surface reflecting the natural light. Between the two windows, Harper spotted a cozy seating area with a plush loveseat and a pair of inviting armchairs, perfect for losing oneself in music or conversation.
Harper stared about the room. "Nathan, this is marvelous!"
He looked pleased. "It's the first thing I did when I bought the house, get a contractor in here and build the bookshelves. Sometimes a few friends from the conservatory come over and we jam."
Setting her coffee cup down on a nearby table, she moved to the piano, running her fingers over the glossy surface. "Oh, my gosh! It's a Steinway!"
Nathan came to join her at the piano. "It's over a hundred years old. It was my great-grandmother's."
"Wow! You really come from a family of musicians."
"I do," he admitted. "My mom and I both learned to play on this."
Reverently, she leaned over to run a scale. "It's in tune. You still play it?"
"Not so often as I should," he responded easily. "I play the violin, too, but I discovered the cello in high school, and never looked back. How about you? Is your family musical?"
"Nope, I'm the only one." Harper grinned at him. "My mom was an Anne McCaffrey fan, and named me after the Dragonriders of Pern series. I don't think they expected me to actually take up the harp, but Mom would read me a couple ofthe stories, about a young girl who was a harper and discovered firelizards, a kind of pet-sized small dragon. Anyway, I loved those stories, and I insisted I was going to play the harp. When I was six, my parents got me a small lyre harp for Christmas, and my grandparents contributed for lessons. I'm pretty sure they expected me to grow out of it, but I never did. I still play the lyre harp, but my favorite is the lap harp. I can play the standard harp, too, of course. I just prefer the lap harp and lyre."
"We'll definitely have to arrange a play date," Nathan told her, and she snickered at the pun.
"As soon as my things get here. Or at least," she amended, "if I get an apartment. Otherwise they'll be in storage for a bit."
"For sure it'd be better to be able to have the movers unload everything into an apartment, than into storage and have to move it all again."
She wrinkled her nose. "No kidding. Fortunately, I have a little time. The moving company has a couple of stops to make on the way here, so I've got a bit over a week."
"What are you looking for"
"Something on the second floor, so my fox can lay in the window and look out." She gave a little shrug, and smiled. "I like to hang out with my fox a bit when I'm at home."
"Nothing wrong with that," Nathan told her. "I suffer a bit from animal envy. I'd love to hang out as a fox, or a cat, or a wolf or something."
She grinned at him. "Hashtag sorrynotsorry."
