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He headed for the door. “I’ll be back as close to seven-thirty as possible. Please—”
Roald waved at him. “I’ll stay put. Stop worrying. Just go.”
Gil bit back a chuckle and left. As he’d come to expect, Timmy Dirks was already waiting outside the staircase, his arms wrapped around his tuba. The boy’s face lit up when he spotted Gil, and he trotted over to meet him on the boardwalk.
“Good evening, Mr. Baty. I came to help you set up chairs.”
Gil put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I appreciate your willingness. But I hope you aren’t skipping your supper in order to help me.”
“Nä. I ate some bread and lard before I came.”
Gil grimaced. Bread and lard? What a thing to feed a growing boy. Especially considering his aunt ran a restaurant. She couldn’t fix her nephew a decent dinner?
“Besides, Miss Flaming will bring something good.” He smacked his lips. “I like her molasses cookies.”
The child provided a steady stream of one-sided chatter while they brought out chairs from the storage room and set them up. He told Gil about his pet toads, his favorite places to play by the creek, and his being stuck inside while it rained. “That was awful, not being able to go to the shed.”
“Do you play games in the shed?”
“I play Pa’s tuba in the shed. Taunte doesn’t want it in our apartment. She says it hurts her ears and it’ll bother her customers.” The boy rested his hands on the back of a chair and sent Gil a remorseful look. “You said we should practice every day, but I couldn’t on Saturday or Sunday because of the rain. So I practiced a whole lot today.” He rubbed his cheeks. “My face is kind of sore from all that puffing. But I wanted to be ready for tonight.”
Gil admired the child’s determination. His desire to do well reminded him of himself at that age. “You have a musician’s heart, Timmy. I’m proud of your tenacity.”
Timmy wrinkled his nose. “My what?”
Gil laughed. “Tenacity—your determination to do well.”
“Ooooh.” He nodded wisely. “Taunte says I stick to my tuba worse than a cocklebur. Is that tenacity?”
“Indeed it is.” Gil hoped his irritation with Timmy’s aunt didn’t come through in his voice or expression. He started to give Timmy encouragement, but other boys began arriving, and Gil’s attention shifted to the practice.
They started with scales, as had become their habit. Only a few horns required tuning, which proved they were practicing. Gil praised them for their diligence, then introduced a new piece—one he’d written himself. He’d hurriedly modified it for brass instruments yesterday afternoon while rain kept him inside, and he was eager to hear it played. Would the notes on the pages match what he heard in his head?
As he’d learned from conductors while playing in New York, he had them run straight through the first time, ignoring misplayed or skipped notes. Then he broke the song into smaller segments, on which they focused until they were able to play the section without mishaps. They’d only made it halfway through the song when Ava arrived. To his surprise, Joseph carried in the treats tray.
Gil dismissed the boys for their break, and they surrounded Ava and the cart. Joseph separated himself from the group and crossed to Gil.
“I’m sorry to intrude on your time with the boys, but I wanted to let you know I might not be here tomorrow evening for the men’s practice.” While Joseph spoke, he kept his gaze aimed at the crowd of boys. “Pa and I finished a step-back cupboard for some folks in McPherson, and I’ll be delivering it tomorrow. With the roads still wet, I figure it’ll take longer than usual.”
Gil wished Joseph would look at him. Since the Sunday thatReverend Ediger shared the idea of starting a boys’ band, he and Joseph hadn’t exchanged a word. Joseph had come to the last four practices with the men, but he always arrived last, spent the break time talking to Ava, then left as soon as practice was over. Now that Gil thought about it, it was probably Ava he was staring at. And he didn’t like it at all.
“That’s fine.” Gil raised his voice, hoping Joe would meet his eyes. “You’re right about the roads being bad. I had some trouble making the rounds today.”
Joseph glanced at him. “The road to McPherson is better traveled so harder packed than some of our roads. It should be easier going for me, but just in case, I wanted you to know why I wasn’t here.”
“Thanks for telling me. I would have worried something was wrong if you didn’t come.”
Joseph sent him another quick look, this one with lowered brows.
Before Gil could question the reason for his frown, Timmy’s laughter carried above the boys’ chatter. Gil smiled. It was good to hear the boy enjoying himself. He wished there was a way to give Timmy more encouragement. With his days so taken up with responsibility, he didn’t have time to work on his own projects or commit to time with Timmy. But maybe…
Joseph took one step away, but Gil grabbed his arm. “Joseph, you said you’re going to McPherson, yes?”
Joseph shifted free of Gil’s light hold and nodded.
“In town, or somewhere in the country?”
Joseph folded his arms. “In town. Why?”
