A Celtic Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,51

not a funeral dirge, either.

Kevin managed two lines, and then his fingers tied up in a Chinese knot. He looked down, bow dangling. "I'm sorry. I can't keep up."

"I think you can." She waited until his head tipped back up. "Don't think so hard. Trust your fingers." Not usually a lesson for the first day.

He nodded slowly and put his bow back on Samantha's strings. "Okay."

Cass began at turtle speed again - but this time, she stepped on the gas pedal after the first line. Inched toward first gear and teased her student to follow.

Kevin's eyes widened, but he managed. One line. Two.

And then the magic happened. His fingers got ahead of his brain.

Cass played on, her eyes glued to his fingerboard. He had it now, the rhythm and the cadence. Dancing with Samantha, who had clearly waited her whole life for just this moment.

It wasn't even close to perfect. A fast turtle could have played faster, and there were missed strings and double ones, errant notes and flat ones. But Kevin and his fiddle had found their voice. Samantha's fiery attitude blended with something steadier, but no less fierce.

Delighted, Cass pushed the new duo through one last time, playing harmony under Kevin's strings. And then she caught his eyes and fiddled them to a stop.

The applause nearly had two violins clattering to the ground. Kevin spun around, cheeks red with something that wasn't only embarrassment.

Assorted people flowed into the room, bringing a tumbling creek of praise and pleasure.

The boy took it all in for a long moment, and then turned away from his admirers, Samantha cradled in his arms. "I have to put her away now." With careful hands, he set the violin in her battered case, and then picked it up, looking at Cass. "I can go put her in your room if you like." He glanced at the sudden throngs. "It might be safer than down here."

He was just lovely. Cass grinned. "Don't worry about that. Samantha loves crowds."

"Thank you." His eyes were shining again - and this time, it wasn't all happiness.

Oh, crud. She was a great, grand eejit. Cass reached a hand to his shoulder. "She's yours now, Kevin. You can take her anywhere you want."

He sank slowly to the floor, his arms wrapped around a feisty and somewhat battered violin, eyes full of disbelief. "Mine?"

No one better. Cass sniffled, suddenly a bit overwhelmed herself, as a gangly boy sat on the floor and fell in love.

And then looked up to see Nan standing in a quiet corner - eyes full of approval.

One answer, found.

Something was up.

Sophie slid past the gathering crowd in the inn's front hall, picking up little bits of chatter as she went. Kevin had a violin now. And Cass was going to play some more.

That was plenty of reason for an impromptu party in a sleepy fishing village.

Aaron walked in the door behind her, bags of groceries in his hands. He grinned at Sophie. "Looks like I better get cooking."

Moira patted him on the shoulder. "No need, dear. Nan and I have that under control - we'll have a good Irish stew bubbling on the stove in no time. You go listen to our Cass play."

Sophie didn't miss the casually chosen words. Cass was "theirs" now. And the Irish grannies would have themselves a wonderful time taking over Aaron's kitchen. It was a mark of his true love of music that he only nodded, distracted, and let them.

Music started up in the parlor. An invitation. Sophie stepped under the archway, looking for somewhere to sit. Mike had taken Adam off for a long walk, and she felt as lazy as a well-fed kitten.

Kevin sat in the middle of the room, a beat-up violin case in his lap, as star struck as Sophie had ever seen him. And more than one inhabitant of Fisher's Cove was wiping away a tear or two. Something very right had obviously happened.

How lovely.

The music fit her mood. Not dancing tunes today - Cass was keeping it gentle. Lyrical.

Spying an unoccupied spot on the window seat, Sophie detoured long enough to grab one of the many hand-knit throws that lived in the inn - and nearly tripped over a very sleepy new arrival.

Aervyn rubbed his eyes, faced glazed in confusion.

Sophie sat down and cuddled him into her lap. "Hi, sweetie. What are you doing here?"

"I dunno." His eyes were clearing, but he still looked fairly befuddled. "Mama put me in bed for a nap because I was