Page 58 of Rebel Moon

Grant went next, asking Luci to stay up on stage with him. He then proceeded to quickly sketch her on a pad of paper. He was surprisingly good. I suspected his subject had something to do with it, despite her clown wig.

Rhett and Holly headed to the stage together. “Holly and I will be doing our talent together as an homage to our childhood,” Rhett said. “We will perform a dance we perfected one hot summer when we had nothing else to do. We were fourteen. I know. Wait until you see what two bored teenagers can come up with.” They walked to opposite sides of the stage.

“No way,” Jack said, laughing. “I remember this.”

They met each other in the middle of the stage and then began a dance to Brooks & Dunn’s “Play Something Country” in their cowboy hats and matching grins. Within seconds, the whole room was clapping along. Whatever ridiculous routine that included a lasso they’d invented as teenagers had apparently lodged itself somewhere deep in their bones. They spun and two-stepped across the floor, tangled themselves into some goofy move that had everyone laughing, then separated only for Rhett to send Holly sailing back into his arms. She landed against his chest without so much as a stumble, and for a second neither of them seemed to remember there was an audience. Then Holly laughed, Rhett spun her away, and the show went on.

We were all on our feet clapping and shouting by the end. Holly and Rhett, holding hands, did a deep bow and then scurried off the stage and back to their seats.

Blake’s turn came. “I’m going to show you a bit of footage from this month. I thought you guys might enjoy seeing some of what I’ve been up to.”

She turned on the projector aimed at a white cloth put up earlier. The first shot was a close-up of Beck’s hands playing the piano, working out some kind of melody. The next was Beck dancing, somewhat drunkenly, at the bar in Blue Fern. He clearly catches Blake filming and stops mid-step, putting his hand up, laughing. Another scene was of Beck on his cabin’s porch with a cup of coffee and the barn cat making himself at home on our favorite pianist’s lap. He obviously had no idea he was being filmed because he’s talking to the cat. We couldn’t hear what he said, but it didn’t matter. We all laughed because it was so cute. There was also a scene with Beck and Jack playing with an arrangement for a new song. The last was a clip from the day we went out on the horses. It was of Beck standing next to his horse, stroking its neck, snow falling all around him. Absolutely stunning camera work.

It certainly wasn’t a sample of what she’d been doing unless the entire film was about Beck. Did she realize what she’d done?

I glanced at Beck, who was smiling at Blake like she was the only one in the room.

No one knew quite what to think about the montage of Beck, but we had no time to analyze because Jack hopped on stage, carrying an electric skillet, a stack of tortillas, bologna, and cheddar cheese, from which he made his famous bologna quesadilla while telling us the story of little Luci hungry for a snack and Jack making a meal out of what he could find in the fridge. When he had a few made, Luci jumped up to cut them into triangle slices and passed them around the room.

Then it was Knox’s turn. He had a little canvas roll in one hand and a block of pale wood in the other. “I shall now whittle for you. Not to be confused with whizzing.”

Everyone groaned.

He sat on a stool at the front of the stage. “My grandfather taught me this party trick. Some of you’ve heard me go on about him.” He opened the roll to reveal small knives, a few tools, and worn wooden handles. “We’d spend Sundays together when I was young. After church, we’d sit outside on his porch with a glass of sweet tea and a scrap of wood. I wasn’t good at it for a long time, but, like the guitar, I kept at it. At first it was just to please Gramps but, when my skills grew, so did my love for it. I find it relaxing. A good thing to do on our bus, for example, when we’re on the road.” He turned the wood in his fingers, found his angle, and started with long, easy, curling strokes, a thin ribbon of wood peeling away. “Now you don’t want to rush it or force it too hard. Like seeing the shooting stars last night, you kind of need to relax, not focus too much on finding one. Let them find you, right? That’s what this is like. Lean into it and whatever the piece of wood’s supposed to be emerges after a time. Kind of like a good song.” He looked up from his work, smiling. “Obviously I’m not going to bore you by actually carving it in front of you. Instead I brought one I made while I was laid up with my sprained ankle.” He set down the block of wood and his knife to reach into his shirt pocket. “This here’s a Christmas tree ornament.”

He held it up for us to see. “It’s my cabin. But I’ll send it around so you can all see it close up.”

Even from here I could see the pitch of the roof, the door, and the two front windows. The way he’d carved the window, actual light came through, so it looked like someone was home in that cabin. I could almost see Knox’s hat hanging by the door.

“I made this one for my next door neighbor here in Montana,” Knox said, winking at me. “For your tree, Madeleine. I hope it brings back happy memories whenever you hang it.”

He handed it first to Ivy, who declared it adorable. Everyone had a turn looking at it before it was given to me. I held it in my hand, running my thumb over the tiny, perfect cabin.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, smiling at Knox. But inside I was unsettled. Part of it was how public he’d just made it all. Saying he’d made it for his neighbor might be interpreted as benign. On the other hand, everyone might read into it, and they’d be right. Knox was reaching out to me, making a statement. A man made a whittled ornament for someone they loved. Not their sworn enemy.

He’d made it for me, a tiny cabin for a Christmas tree in my future. I couldn’t imagine hanging it anywhere but here where it belonged. Just like my time with Knox, I had a feeling it would stay here, protected from the real world instead of going home with me to Nashville.

Was that what I wanted? A part of me longed for the simplicity of my life at home, without this messy entanglement with Knox. The other part of me longed to climb into the bed in his cabin and never leave.

After the show was over and most everyone had drifted off to the bar, Knox pulled me into a dark corner of the barn. “Hey, you okay? Did I overstep with the ornament?”

“No, it’s wonderful. I’m just … worried what everyone thought.”

His face fell. “Oh. Okay.”

I glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot, but it looked like we were alone, other than staff who were taking down the stage.

“Let’s go back to my cabin,” I said. “We can talk without anyone interrupting.” Or overhearing us. God forbid Blake got us on tape canoodling in the barn.

“Sure, that’s fine.”

I could see the hurt in his eyes, so I gave him my hand. “Come on. We’ll take it slow so you don’t hurt your ankle.”

We walked out of the barn hand in hand. He walked gingerly because of his ankle, and I was cold by the time we got to my cabin. Once inside, I lit the fire that one of the staff had laid out for me. All the while, the ornament was like a heavy stone in my pocket until I placed it on the mantel where it stared at me through its tiny windows.

Knox sat in one of the chairs by the fire and I joined him, the flames already starting to warm the room. I grabbed him an IPA from the mini-fridge and opened it for him without asking him if he wanted it. I poured wine for myself.

“Are we having a hard conversation?” Knox asked, taking the beer from me.