Wayworn Lovers Page 8

  “What do you mean?”

  “You offer to be my assistant and help train my dog. That’s great, but I need you in another capacity. It would be a crime to overlook that skill. Vivian and Mike arrive in an hour. I want you to bring more of whatever lyrics you have, and we can try to fit them to my melodies.”

  “And the lyrics from earlier?” Tierney asked carefully.

  Giselle wanted to say no, which would have been her usual method of operation. She always protected herself at all costs to keep from having that final panic attack that would defy what all her doctors or therapists claimed wasn’t possible—and kill her. And now, here she stood, next to a young woman who wasn’t free of scars. Tierney possessed the heart of a warrior. Giselle could feel it. She seemed to lead a nomadic life, so perhaps she was running from something, or someone. Still, she dared to write such revealing lyrics that they might well have caused her to be fired, but instead she had, in a moment of wanting to help Giselle, bared them, and herself.

  This woman was vibrant and ready for whatever she could do to help, and then some. The lyrics scared Giselle, but she had to put them together with her melody, regardless of her own fears. Her heart landed with a sickening sound in the center of her abdomen. “Even those.”

  Chapter Ten

  The doorbell rang, and Tierney quickly dried her hands on the tea towel she’d tucked into the waistband of her jeans. Nervously, she cleared her throat as she walked to the front door and opened it. Outside, Mike and Vivian stood, hand in hand, while Charley bounced around them.

  “Charley, down.” Gratefully slipping into her dog-trainer role, Tierney looked sternly at the exuberant retriever. “No jumping.”

  “Wow,” Mike said. “That’s the first time I’ve seen her actually obey without trying to get away with another jump. You’re clearly onto this little sweetheart.”

  “Sweet and sweet. Let’s not exaggerate,” Giselle said from behind. “Welcome, both of you.” She waved them in.

  “Here. Let me take your jackets.” Tierney hung the garments on wooden hangers in the closet next to the front door. “May I get you something to drink? It’s actually quite hot today.”

  “Why, thank you, Tierney,” Vivian said. “I’d love some iced tea if you have any.”

  “Me too,” Mike said and put an arm around Vivian’s shoulder. “Music room?”

  “Yes. I thought we’d get some work done before we have dinner. It’ll be early, around four, if that’s all right?” Giselle moved toward the music room. “Iced tea for me as well. Unsweetened. And make some for yourself.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Vivian followed alongside Mike, and if Tierney hadn’t known the woman was legally blind, she wouldn’t have noticed the subtle hints Mike gave her partner as they maneuvered among the furniture.

  Back in the kitchen, Tierney placed a pitcher of unsweetened iced tea on a tray and added some sugar and sweeteners beside four glasses, in case someone changed her mind. Taking a breath, and then a second one, she carried the tray to the music room. For once the door was wide open, and Giselle sat at the piano, smiling warmly at her friends.

  “Ah, that looks great,” Mike said and helped Tierney place the glasses on coasters within reach of everybody. “And there’s extra sugar here as well. Very thoughtful, Tierney.”

  Not knowing where to sit, or if she should remain standing in case Giselle needed her to fetch something, Tierney sipped her iced tea, desperate to moisten her throat.

  “Come sit with me, Tierney,” Giselle said, sounding as if that was a frequent practice between them. “I want you to sing something you know that I can play. I want Mike and Vivian to hear you sing.”

  “Now?” Already? Tierney’s cheeks warmed. She’d thought she might be some oddity Giselle would display at the end of their working session, but Giselle evidently wanted her to jump in with both feet. “I’m rather embarrassed since I’m in the presence of professional musicians and am just a happy-go-lucky amateur.” She put her glass down on the tray. “I’m sure you have more urgent business to—”

  “Come now, Tierney,” Giselle said, her voice softer. “You have a good voice. I just want you to warm up before we get to the original pieces. All right?”

  “Okay.” Tierney looked apologetically at Vivian and Mike. “Do remember that I mainly sing in the shower.” This wasn’t entirely true. She’d sung at train stations, malls, squares, farmers’ markets, and even on open-mic nights.

  “Do you know ‘Summertime,’ from Porgy and Bess?” Giselle asked. “Or you pick something.”

  “‘Summertime.’ Sure.” Cringing at the idea that Vivian might well have sung that song at one point in her career, Tierney sat down next to Giselle on the piano stool. It was barely large enough for them both, and their legs pressed against each other.

  “A-minor.” Giselle played the easily recognizable intro, and Tierney tried to get into the zone. Her voice wobbled some during the first few words, but then she found her equilibrium and tried to sing the song as the lullaby it was. She closed her eyes briefly and relaxed the muscles around her throat, letting her voice track the resonance cavities within her. Giselle’s music wrapped around her, and the soft touch with which she accompanied Tierney made her lean in a little, as if to maintain the connection.

  When the last tone rang out, Tierney blinked, feeling slightly disoriented. She looked at Giselle, who had her hands folded on her lap. “Was it okay?” Tierney whispered.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Mike had pulled her feet up under her where she sat on the love seat with Vivian. “Those are some pipes you have, Tierney. I still have goose bumps.” She held up her arm to prove it.

  “Vivian?” Giselle tilted her head.

  “Tierney, as Mike said, you have a stunning voice. I hear soul, pop, some folk-music tones, and then there’s that something that’s uniquely you. You don’t mimic any of the popular singers, which is a very good thing. However, you should focus on a genre other than musical theater. You have to find a genre that speaks to you.”

  “And Tierney’s already done that. Why don’t I play one of the songs I’ve composed with Chicory Ariose in mind, and then Tierney can join in with lyrics she wrote.”

  Still taken aback, no, shocked, by the accolades from Vivian and Mike, Tierney barely registered Giselle’s words. Then her anger rose. Had she really agreed to this? She was supposed to sing the song that was so deeply personal to her, and such a testament to how she saw Giselle, in front of these women, though nice as they were, she didn’t really know? She had begun shaking her head at Giselle when she saw a range of emotions in those blue eyes. For whatever reason, Giselle was challenging both of them. Tierney had no idea why. Or perhaps she could guess. The lyrics had hit home. Maybe Giselle was going to stand her ground this time. If that was it, Tierney had to help. She couldn’t refuse to be there for her. She swallowed so hard it hurt. “Sure.”

  Looking pleased, Giselle began to play the bittersweet melody that had almost caused them to part ways. Tierney could tell Giselle had changed some of it, and only when Giselle played the chorus a second time did she realize it was to accommodate Tierney’s words. Had Giselle memorized the lyrics Tierney had sung for her so well she knew where to change the melody? That accomplishment really demonstrated Giselle’s genius.

  Giselle let the melody fade out and turned to Vivian and Mike. “First, do you like the instrumental version?” She looked relaxed, but Tierney felt fine tremors against her left thigh.

  “You never disappoint,” Vivian said and wiped at her eyelashes. “And you say Tierney wrote some lyrics for this song?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “No, well, yes, in a way. She already had lyrics, since writing is her favorite pastime, or so I understand.” Giselle looked at Tierney with a smile. “Am I right?”

  “Yes.” Tierney pressed her hands under her thighs, which she belatedly realized meant she touched Giselle’s right thigh as well.

  “All right,” Giselle said hu
skily, but didn’t move away from Tierney’s hand. “Two verses, one chorus, one more verse, the bridge, and last chorus. Is that okay?”

  Tierney now wondered, and quite seriously, if Giselle could read minds. “I did write a suggestion for the bridge earlier,” she said quietly.

  “You did? When? You’ve been preparing food and setting the table since we got back from walking Charley.” Giselle frowned.

  “I wrote it in my head, while doing all that. I mean, cooking and setting the table are hardly rocket science.” Tierney crinkled her nose.

  “Of course, you did.” Giselle began the intro again, nodding at Tierney to begin.

  Tierney sang the beautiful song, so eager to make it her own, but mostly to do the song justice. When she neared the bridge, her nerves acted up, but she kept swaying to the rhythm while she continued to sing.

  I never thought

  I’d find the way

  That she’d ever let me in

  I hope she knows

  I’m here to stay

  I’m ready to begin

  To love again

  Tierney thought she could hear a soft gasp from the love seat but remained set on finishing the song. Once Giselle had played the chorus one more time, Tierney pulled her hands free and got ready to stand. A gentle hand on her arm stopped her, and she looked helplessly into Giselle’s darkening eyes.

  “Thank you,” Giselle said. “I think we need to talk later. Don’t you?”

  Trembling now, with so many emotions fluttering through her system, Tierney nodded wordlessly. She wanted to sound cool and casual, but her old façade simply didn’t work. “All right,” she replied, relieved to get some coherent words out.

  “I realize this must be your first draft, and it can use some polishing, Tierney, but it fits the song perfectly,” Mike said and joined them at the piano with Vivian. “Do you have them written down, Tierney? Or recorded, which would be even better.”

  Glad now that they all liked her lyrics, Tierney pulled out her smartphone. “If we play it one more time, we can record it on my phone, and I can send it to you guys via my cloud.”

  Vivian looked confused. “Cloud?”

  “This stunning lady of mine doesn’t appreciate computers as much as I do,” Mike said and snickered. “It means it’s safe for us to listen to, but only us, since Tierney will send us a link to where she’ll store the text online.”

  “I’m sure that’s fantastically practical,” Vivian said regally, but then laughed. What a fantastically melodious sound. “I heard a beautiful potential for harmonies in that song, Giselle. If you’ll sing it again, Tierney, I’ll try to add a lower harmony.”

  Singing harmonies with the Vivian Harding. Tierney could only smile and shook her head when a chuckle erupted from within her. She giggled, and Mike joined in.

  “Not sure what’s so funny,” Mike said, wiping under her eyes with tapered fingertips, “but your laughter can set off a mega giggle-party.”

  “Goodness.” Giselle clearly attempted to sound stern and get them back on track, but a broad smile stretched her pink lips.

  Eventually, Tierney controlled herself and set her phone to record. As she sang the now-so-familiar song, Vivian let wordless tones simmer just below Tierney’s vocals. When they finished, Vivian nodded, looking pleased. “I thought as much.”

  Tierney wanted to ask what Vivian thought but merely sat there, waiting for the pros to figure things out. She’d done her part for now.

  “Play the first verse of the song back on the phone, please,” Vivian said. “I want to hear if it sounded as good as it felt singing it.”

  Tierney placed the phone on top of the grand piano and then felt Giselle’s hand pull her down next to her again. “Just in case we need to redo or alter anything.”

  Vivian and Mike ended up insisting on hearing the song sung in harmony twice before they were pleased. “We need to include Eryn and Manon,” Vivian said brightly. “Mike and I can’t speak for them regarding something so…so amazing. They need to hear it, and then all four of us can decide. We’re a team and always decide together.”

  “Terrific,” Giselle said. Checking her watch, she turned to Tierney. “Why don’t you do what needs to be done to the food, and I’ll play the rest of the songs after dinner. We can all benefit from stretching our legs.”

  “Absolutely.” Tierney stood. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need something.”

  “Thank you.” Giselle spoke matter-of-factly, but the expression on her face and the way her blue eyes sparkled reminded Tierney about the talk Giselle wanted to have. Would there be more interrogating regarding the fact Tierney had started out by writing the text about her impression of Giselle—or would they have an actual conversation without tons of preconceived ideas?

  As she walked out of the room and headed to the kitchen, Vivian stood as well. “Tierney, I promise not to help you in any way, as my aim when I chop carrots is less than accurate, but may I still join you in the kitchen?”

  “Of course.” Looking at Mike, Tierney gently placed her hand around Vivian’s elbow. “Like this?”

  “Perfect. The others can play with that menace of a dog while the two of us chat.”

  Oh, no. Another deep conversation where someone wanted to know where she came from, how she could sing and write lyrics, and what made her tick. Could she perhaps take her words back and insist that she needed to focus on cooking? But that was a downright lie, as she had most of the food already prepared.

  Tierney walked with Vivian to the kitchen. Why was she suddenly the center of attention? This was so not her style. She preferred to slip through cracks, skim along the surface of her life. No deep forays into her past, which would only lead to pity or dismay. And certainly, no confessions on her part about her true feelings about…anything or anyone.

  Absolutely none.

  Chapter Eleven

  Giselle stood next to Mike as Charley gallivanted among the trees toward the back of the property. She could sense her friend was curious, but true to Mike’s nature, she waited patiently.

  “Yes, my dear?” Giselle asked teasingly. “Something on your mind?”

  “You know what I’m wondering.” Mike chuckled. “Those lyrics, and from such an unassuming woman like Tierney. Pretty daring. Bold.”

  “Mike…” Now Giselle made sure she interjected a warning into her voice.

  “No need to be offended. You must realize that both Vivian and I care deeply for you. And when such a perfect individual shows up just when you need assistance the most and she turns out to be so talented…add to that how the words she wrote fit you. Not to mention the current between the two of you. Every time you accidentally touched, both of you literally jumped.” Mike gently placed a hand on Giselle’s shoulder. “And don’t tell me I’m imagining things.”

  “Are you going to interrogate me all through dinner, too?” Giselle wasn’t sure what she felt about Mike asking her questions, only that she’d rather pull out a tooth than answer.

  “Interro—no! It’s not like that at all. It’s just that I see such a difference in you since the last time we met, and the only thing that has changed, as far as I know, is that Frances had to leave, and you have Tierney here.”

  That was some accurate pinpointing. Giselle did feel different. She was completely at a loss as to what way she’d changed, but she had. Tierney had a lot to do with it, but something unfathomable was happening regardless. “You’re asking the wrong person, Mike. Tierney is a bit of fresh air around here. Frances and I have trotted along the same paths for years. I’ve felt safe that way. Now that she’s in the UK—and I finally heard from her, by the way, a text message—she plans to stay with her sister and her sister’s family for quite a while.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Mike said and moved to let Charley pass, holding a long branch in her mouth. “God, is Tierney training her to fight with weapons?”

  “No. That’s an old skill. Be grateful she wasn’t carrying it
far out on the end. She could have sent you sprawling.” Giselle watched her dog run like lightning across the lawn.

  “So, back to the topic of changes and how Tierney factors in.” Mike motioned toward a wooden bench, and they sat down. Immediately, Charley returned and laid her stick in front of them, sinking down with a silly grin.

  “You are like a dog with a bone,” Giselle said to Mike and made a face. “The most astonishing thing that happened was when she talked me into walking up to the fields with Charley earlier today. I was so sure it would end in disaster, and it nearly did, but I managed to stave off the panic attack…and not by running back to the house, but standing right there, several steps out in the field.”

  “That’s a huge deal.” Mike squeezed Giselle’s hand lightly. “Was it the combo of her and the dog, you think?”

  “Could be.” Giselle lowered her gaze, not wanting to meet Mike’s glance.

  “Ah. So, something else as well.”

  “God.” Giselle ran her hand under her hair, which she kept in a low bun. “She placed her hand on my back.” Why was she being this upfront with Mike? Yes, they were friends and had collaborated several times and known each other since Chicory Ariose was formed, but still. She never talked about personal things with anyone. Was that yet another change that had come about since her everyday life was altered? All she knew was how good it felt to have this conversation with Mike.

  “Where? Bra-level, waistline, or near your ass?” Mike asked seriously, but her eyes sparkled.

  “Mike!” Flustered now, Giselle realized Mike was being facetious, but her own response to Tierney’s touch had been so unexpected. Giselle could feel the impact of it even now. “If you must know, the small of my back.” And it had felt so good, so reassuring. Tierney’s touch had centered Giselle enough for her to simmer down and just stand there. Her presence had wrapped around Giselle, and the scent of her mixed with the fresh one from the woods and the field had made her dizzy in a much more enticing way.