Chapter One
I Long to Hear You

“Come on, ladies, you’re up next!” The scruffy-looking stage manager gave Sage a wink. Olivia held her autoharp in her arms, glancing out at the inattentive crowd. One man in the front row had his eyes closed.

Sage turned to her. “I don’t know, Olivia. I mean, this may not be a good idea. We may get booed right off the stage.”

“You mean right out of the tent?” Olivia teased her friend. “Don’t worry. Most of the loud talkers will leave before we begin. A few will stay. Keep in mind that when we signed up and sent the festival committee our recording, they accepted us, so we must fit in here someplace. I have the feeling the crowd won’t shut up long enough to hear us anyway. Just two girls with a fiddle and the world’s least recognized folk instrument,” Olivia held up her case with a grin, “the autoharp!”

Sage shrugged. “No one wants to hear that thing. Why didn’t you learn to play guitar when you were a girl instead? Our only chance for survival is for you to start singing as soon as possible.” The din of the crowd made it hard for Sage to continue talking.

The manager gestured with both hands. “Come on,” he hollered. “We have to get you on and off quick. The big band is right behind you.”

As Olivia predicted, the audience had thinned out by the time she and Sage stood on the stage. Several people had their backs turned, talking to each other. Even as Olivia reached for a wooden stool to get ready for the set, no one sat down. Perched on the edge of the seat, she held the autoharp upright on her lap. She ran her fingers over the strings to check the tuning.

“Come on, sugar pie,” the guy who had been previously asleep jeered from the front row. “What you gonna do with that old thing anyway? Give it to me, and I’ll give it to my grandma.” His friends laughed while the guy assessed Olivia more closely. “You are pretty cute. Maybe we could get together later?”

Olivia sighed, nestling the old Appalachian tricornered instrument further into her belly. She took a deep breath, appreciating the protection the instrument offered her. No one expected anything good to come from her or her autoharp, Olivia held it even closer. Why didn’t Mom make me practice the fiddle? At least people wouldn’t prejudge my instrument as often.

Even her old boyfriend had asked, “Why didn’t you take up the guitar?” Don had grown tired of crowds jeering at Olivia, feeling they judged him too. If only Don had supported me, I wouldn’t have given up. She’d put away her music in favor of Don and his feelings for the past eight years, pushing away how much she missed expressing herself creatively.

And then last year in Lily Rock, Sage changed all of that. She’d plucked an old autoharp from her wall when Olivia showed an interest. I knew then my life would change for the better.

The jeering stranger at the World Music Festival thought he was original? Nothing I haven’t heard before.

Olivia closed her eyes, still aimlessly strumming the strings with her thumb and forefinger. Fitting perfectly into her arms, the instrument felt a part of her, smelling of new varnish and sentimentality.

Michael. He brought it back to life and sent it to me even though I left with no explanation that day in Lily Rock. Michael kept his promise. I don’t suppose he knows how much that meant to me.

Olivia inhaled deeply, picturing Michael’s dark blue-gray eyes the first time they met. He’d looked at her that way from the beginning. First her face, then the casual shift of his glance down her body and back again to her mouth. Her heart fluttered thinking of him even a year later.

She felt herself flush and then looked up at her audience. They had stopped talking. Most everyone sat facing the stage, some on chairs, most in the grass. They waited for the two women to begin.

“Olivia,” hissed Sage. “Introduce the song!”

Standing to her full height just over five feet, Olivia fluffed the hair on the back of her neck with one hand. “Sure is hot in here,” she commented into the microphone.

“Not as hot as you, baby,” jeered the drunk man. “Wanna put that thing down and step over here to sit in my lap?”

“Oh, I don’t think so, stranger.” Olivia put on her flirty voice, the one she used when she performed on stage. “But I’ll sing you a song instead.”

With that promise, she nodded to Sage, who held her fiddle to her shoulder. Olivia bowed her head, listening to the vibrato and mournful notes from her partner’s instrument.

Stepping back from the microphone, Olivia leaned against the stool, planting her feet so as not to slip. She began to strum a few chords to accompany Sage’s melody. The words forming on her lips, she sang, the sound vibrating deep in her chest, “Oh Shenandoah . . .” Olivia drew out the last note.

“I long to hear you,” she continued, “away, you rollin’ river . . .” By the time she finished the entire first verse all eyes watched her from the silent audience. One man reached to grasp the hand of the woman next to him. Several couples moved closer together, their shoulders touching as Olivia continued to the second verse, now with Sage dropping back, accompanying.

Her pure, lilting voice filled the tent. Olivia’s chest expanded as her voice soared. She closed her eyes remembering Michael and that first penetrating look he’d given her as she stood trembling in the road, having crashed her car on the way to Lily Rock. Then a person’s cell phone accosted her ear.

Someone from the crowd hissed, “Shut that thing off. I’m trying to hear the angel’s song.”

Working with her memories of Michael, Olivia closed her eyes, sharing her intimate feelings with the audience in the words of the old folk melody. That was how she reached people in her songs: combining skill with emotion and sheer instinct.

“It’s a gift,” her mother told her when she was small. “Use it wisely.”

Olivia held each note briefly before leaning into the next. With tears in her eyes she told the timeless story of the river called Shenandoah, about a man who longed to see the woman he’d lost. Michael’s hand felt warm as he touched her arm that day. “Before you dart out, just let me have my say.” But I didn’t let him have his say. I just ran away because he frightened me . . . his feelings frightened me.

More people in the audience leaned forward, anticipating each note. One woman held her hands over her heart. She sat next to a man who stared down at his lap, seemingly overcome by the old tune. He reached over to pat the knee of his companion as if he wanted to tell her something, something important. Something he’d kept hidden, which now needed to be revealed.

With a deep sigh, Olivia sang the last note. The moment she finished, in one motion she rose to her feet, shoving the stool away. At the same time the audience stood, clapping and shouting as she bowed. Sage stood next to Olivia, holding her fiddle next to her side. Both bowed together. The women turned in unison and exited the small stage, disappearing into the night sky.

When the clapping continued, Sage and Olivia returned. After three encores they waved for the final time and left.

“Wow, you two were much better than I ever thought you’d be,” the stage manager confessed. “I mean, I really figured you’d be booed off the stage. And why am I admitting this exactly?” Shaking his head he mumbled, “You bring out the truth in me.” He shook his head again and then turned to walk away.

Olivia smiled, dodging past the crowd with her autoharp tucked under her arm.

“Why does everybody end up confessing to you?” Sage laughed, taking Olivia’s free hand. “Your singing makes people say the most outrageous things.”

“I know,” Olivia admitted. “But now we’re done, and I have to drive to Playa for my job tomorrow morning. Do you want to stay with me, or are you heading up to Lily Rock this evening?”

Dropping Olivia’s hand, Sage turned to face her. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to come back? You’ve been gone a year. Surely you’ve come to terms with Marla’s murder. Plus you have to look in on your property, right?”

“I’m not ready to return to Lily Rock,” Olivia told Sage firmly. “I may never get back there. I can manage the house from Playa. I have a solid renter who signed a two-year lease. And your mother would let me know if anything went wrong with the house, I’m sure.”

Sage laughed. “You are right on that account. Meadow has her eye on everyone in Lily Rock. She’d be on the phone to you in a heartbeat if something looked amiss.”

“I also know your mother doesn’t want me to come back nearly as much as you do. She’s pretty certain I bring trouble wherever I go—at least that’s what happened the last time.”

“You mean the only time, don’t you? Two murders in two weeks. You didn’t even give us a chance to return to normal.” Sage gave Olivia a fake pout and then added, “You know Michael wants you to come back. And Mayor Maguire . . . he’s still pining.”

Unwilling to admit, even to Sage, that her feelings had only deepened for Michael, Olivia quickly said, “I do miss M&M. He gets me.”

“I get you too. We’re in a band, right?” Sage said.

“Oh, you so get me. I didn’t mean to imply you don’t.” Olivia patted Sage’s shoulder.

“Hey ladies, want a drink now that your set is finished?” The jeering guy from the front row stood in front of them. He no longer looked contemptuous. “I can carry the autoharp. If you want me to, that is.”

“Oh, so you no longer want to hand it over to your granny?” Sage said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“Oh no, ma’am,” he shook his head. “I would love to hear you two sisters sing again, though, maybe later tonight at my campfire?”

Olivia’s gut clenched. This wasn’t the first time someone had caught the similarity between Sage and Olivia. Their eyes were the same shade of blue-green, and their hair had a similar light brown color, though Olivia wore hers shorter. Usually, Sage or Olivia would brush off the sister comparisons, but on this particular occasion, Olivia felt reluctant to be the one.

Every time she said, “Oh, we’re not sisters,” she lied, and the lies were stacking up on each other like a pile of soggy pancakes. She’d avoided telling Sage the truth, the same way she’d run away from Michael. Even when the women reconnected in Playa six months later, there was never a right time to explain.

“Sage is not my sister,” Olivia boldly lied to the man. “And we have to get back to our day jobs, but thanks for the offer, maybe another time.”

The man walked away dejectedly, as Olivia strode past the crowd toward her small car. This time she did not stop when she heard her name called.

She’d already packed her tent and clothing, so now she and Sage could move forward in two different directions, one more music success under their belt.

On the way to their campsite, Sage greeted people while Olivia kept her eyes cast to the dirt pathway. Consumed with her own thoughts, she heard Sage yell from behind, “Olivia, your cell!”

Reaching into her back pocket, Olivia looked at her screen. Meadow McCloud. Why didn’t she ping her daughter instead? Olivia tapped redial, and Meadow’s voice filled her ear.

“Olivia, I’m glad you called me back. I have some difficult news.”

Olivia froze in her spot, the toe of her boot digging into the dirt. Since the sun had gone down, her cell phone was the only light to illuminate her stricken face. “What is it, Meadow?” She struggled to keep the panic from her voice. What if something happened to Michael or M&M?

“It’s your house, dear,” answered Meadow.

Olivia took in one quick breath. Frequent fires made all Lily Rock residents anxious. Has the house burned down? Olivia had hefty fire insurance. Michael had advised her to get a reliable policy as soon as she inherited the property.

“You will feel a lot more secure,” he’d said, pushing a stray piece of hair from her face before quickly removing his hand.

Michael did not insist. She had to give him that.

“What’s wrong with the house?” she asked Meadow, doing her best to sound calm.

“Oh my, I am so sorry to have to tell you this.” Meadow’s voice got slower, her words coming out one by one with a small pause in between.

I bet this is the voice she uses to tell children stories at the library, all soft and calm. Olivia’s impatience got the better of her.

“Is the house on fire, Meadow?” she insisted. “Just tell me right out, okay?”

“Oh, no. Your house is not on fire. It’s intact. I called about your renter. What was her name again?”

Olivia searched her brain. The renter paid on time, with an automatic deduction. Olivia arranged the lease over the phone in a hurry nearly a year ago, and so far she’d had no trouble. What’s her name again?

“I think her name was Lana something. Let me think. I know! Her name is Lana de Carlos. Sorry, I forgot for a second. She pays with an automatic deposit.”

“I understand a brief lapse in memory. In fact, I have an herb blend with Ginkgo—”

Olivia interrupted, “I’ll talk to you about that later, Meadow. What happened to Lana?”

“Oh, right. Lana. That’s why I called. Well, Olivia, it seems that one of our Lily Rock residents found her dead, right on the doorstep of your house, just a couple of hours ago.”

Olivia squeezed the phone in her hand as her legs began to tremble. Another dead body at Marla’s old house?

She felt Sage’s arm around her shoulder. “What’s the matter?” Glancing down at the screen, Sage asked, “What does my mother want?” She took the phone from Olivia’s shaking hand, holding it to her cheek.

“Mom, it’s me. What’s going on?” Sage listened and then said, “Olivia looks like she’s seen a ghost. Tell me what I should do.”

By the time Sage clicked the phone off, Olivia had sat in the dirt, her knees pulled to her chest. “It’s happened again. Another dead body. What is wrong with me? Am I attracting all of this death for some reason?”

Sage leaned over to sit in the dirt next to Olivia. “Of course not. You weren’t even in town when it happened. Not like last time.” Both young women huddled together for a few minutes, letting the news sink in.

Swallowing down her emotions, Olivia stood on wobbly legs and dusted off the seat of her pants. She considered her next words carefully. “Does this mean I have to return to Lily Rock?”

Sage nodded, her chin ducking into her chest to cover a small smile. “Yes, it does. You have to go back  just to check on the house. You can stay with me and Meadow until things are settled.”

“Just like last time?”

“Just like last time.” Sage smiled openly. “Only I won’t let Mom drug your tea with her herb supplements like she did that first morning. I’ll keep an eye on her for you.”

Olivia felt a giggle begin in her throat. She stifled a grin. “I’m beginning to think that I have some kind of destiny with Lily Rock, no matter how hard I try to keep away.”

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