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The quiet question froze her in place. The townsfolk had arranged several wagons to transport people to McPherson to support the Falke boys’ band. Mama and Papa intended to take their own carriage, which would provide a more comfortable ride for Mama and Mr. Willems. Although they hadn’t expressly said so, she knew her parents expected her to go. She intended to conveniently suffer a headache.
“I don’t believe so.”
He slipped the paper into her apron pocket. “I hope you’ll change your mind. If you do, bring that with you, but don’t look at it until the band plays in front of the judges.” AVbriefly marred his brow. “If you don’t come, please burn it. And I’ll never bother you again.” He put his hat on his head and strode off the porch.
Ava stared after him, the small bulge in her pocket seeming to burn like a hot coal. She gingerly reached in, pinched it between her fingers, and held it out the way she’d hold a snake.Temptation to unfold it pulled hard, but fear of what she’d find on the page overcame curiosity. She placed it on the little table beside the door and returned to her chores, her heart heavy.
Gil
Gil scuffed upthe boardwalk, his chest aching so badly he marveled he could draw a breath. He had many reasons to be joyful. The boys had grown so much as musicians, and he believed they had a real chance at taking first place in the competition despite their young ages and lack of experience. He was able to grip his baton tightly enough to direct the band, even though his wrist still throbbed afterward. He and Joseph had mended their differences, and his cousin had even confided that if Gil returned to New York he might want to come, too, to look for work there, try living in the big city for a change. It would be good to have family with him. Especially since it seemed Ava was no longer interested in going with him.
Whither thou goest…
The words he’d penned haunted him now. Apparently she hadn’t meant what she’d said that night on the porch when the lyrics for the song he’d written seemed to descend from heaven and fill his heart. If she hadn’t been truthful, then the words were meaningless. But she should still know she’d inspired them. That they were true for him. That they’d always be true.
“You there, Gil!”
The call took him back to the day he’d arrived in Falke. He’d almost ignored it, wanting to avoid Ava’s family. He might be happier today if he’d been able to do so. He turned and steppedinto the post office, forcing his lips into a smile. “Goodendach,Onkel Bernard.”
“I thought you’d be resting after your long practice.” The man sorted through mail scattered all across the counter from the morning’s delivery. “Are the boys excited for tomorrow’s activities?”
“Jo, they’re very excited. And very ready.” Gil’s chest went tight. “I’m proud of them. Every one of them. They’ve worked hard, and they deserve to win tomorrow. But I’ve told them no matter what the judges say, they are winners already because they have given their best in preparing for this competition.”
Bernard nodded, his eyes glowing with approval. “Much of their preparation is due to your good leadership, Gil. I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished with them. You should be proud of yourself, too.”
Gil hung his head. “I want to be, Onkel Bernard. But I made such a mess of things with Ava, I’m only…sad.”
Bernard rounded the counter and took hold of Gil by the shoulders, the way he’d done dozens of times when giving Gil fatherly advice. “Listen to me. You have no reason to blame yourself for what happened between you and Ava. Your motivations were pure. That she misunderstood and refuses to let you explain is not your fault.”
“But—”
“Nä!” He gave Gil a little shake. “You are only responsible for your own actions. You cannot control what anyone else does, only the way you respond to their choices. Ava made her choice. You have chosen to respond with kindness. You’ve done all you can do…except pray God’s will over the situation. Are you praying for God’s will?”
Gil nodded. He stepped free of Bernard’s light hold and leaned on the counter. “I am, and I was prompted to dosomething…risky.” He absently flicked through envelopes as he spoke. “I already told you I wrote words to go with Ava’s song.” He’d shared the secret, along with the reason for teaching the boys the song, with Bernard the evening Ava overheard the band practicing. He needed someone to understand why he hadn’t kept the song between just him and Ava.
“Jo, I remember.”
“Well, I wrote the lyrics out on a piece of paper and gave it to Ava a little bit ago. I told her to bring it to the competition tomorrow and look at it when the boys played. I also said if she didn’t come, she should burn the page. It won’t matter anymore if she doesn’t come.”
Bernard returned to his post and began sorting again, shaking his head. “That daughter of mine rarely shows it, but she has a stubborn side that is hard to penetrate when she chooses to use it. Maria and I are praying for her to come to her senses.” He glanced up. “I’m still her papa. I can make her go to the competition, whether she wants to go or not.”
Gil didn’t want to create friction between father and daughter. “Thank you, Onkel Bernard, but I think it’s better if Ava makes this decision on her own. If she comes, it will tell me she still cares. At least a little. And maybe after she hears the song, she’ll understand and will be able to set aside her anger.”
Bernard picked up an envelope and examined it, his bushy eyebrows low. “What school did you say asked you to come teach music to its students?”
“The Clineburg Academy for Juvenile Boys. Why?”
“You have a letter from them.”
“I do?” Gil took the envelope and frowned at his name written in slanting script. “How strange. When I ended my interview, I told the school’s dean that I would be in Falke for the summer and would notify them of my decision by the end ofAugust. I wonder why they’ve written to me.” He slid his thumb beneath the flap and peeled it open, then removed a single sheet of typewritten paper. He read the short missive, aware of Bernard’s curious gaze pinned on him. He finished and returned it to the envelope.
“What do they say?”
If anyone else had asked, Gil might not have answered. But he didn’t keep secrets from Onkel Bernard. “Another small, private school closed, and most of the boys are transferring to Clineburg. The increased enrollment has brought more revenue, so they reconsidered the salary offer. They raised it by seventy-five dollars for the year.”
Bernard’s eyebrows shot upward. “That is a very fine offer.”
Gil chuckled. “It would be a very fine offer in Kansas. Expenses are higher in New York. Still…” He tapped the edge of the envelope on the counter. “If I was careful, I could adequately support myself with it.”
