and the slow tumble of emotions that would rock the soul of anyone who had ever been a teenage girl.
It was pure magic.
Cass leaned forward, willing the notes to continue. This is what Buddy had seen. This wasn't someone else's work - it had Ellie Brennan soaked into every note.
Cass let the music wash over her, the song of a heart that saw every possibility and danced to them all. A soul that had not yet chosen a road, but had the courage to do so. It was the kind of music that would bring ten thousand people to their knees in two measures - and kill the innocence of the bright child who had been able to create it.
She took in a deep, shuddering breath as the notes came to a close. Ellie was a child - and one cradled in a place that would protect her innocence for as long as she let it. She'd need to leave eventually. If you wanted music to be the singular thing in your life, eventually you had to go. But no way was Cassidy Farrell going to walk her to the road. "You're a composer." It was a limp word for channeling the music of a thousand teenage heartbeats.
"I like to improvise a little."
That was no improv. Cass knew polished brilliance when she heard it. But girls on the cusp of young womanhood were allowed a secret or two. "What do you want to do with it?" She was pretty sure she already knew - the answer had streamed from the music.
"I want to travel like you do. Play for really big audiences." Stars shone in the girl's eyes.
Cass just shook her head. That greener-grass thing had always been hard on Celtic souls. And music was a demanding passion. Often a selfish one. "The Barn's pretty much the best audience there is."
"It's just people." Ellie sounded totally unimpressed. "And they hear me play all the time."
And didn't appreciate her talent often enough. Cass knew how that felt. "Have they heard you play that?"
Ellie shook her head slowly. "It's not fiddling."
She didn't have to say anything more. Not Celtic. Not tradition and roots. Not Margaree. Cass knew the unwritten rules. And she also knew the man who had the clout to break them. "Be ready to play it tonight."
Ellie's eyes grew bigger than buckets. "At the square dance?"
Cass only smiled and picked up her violin. "Help me warm up a little." She grinned as her young companion rolled into a reel that would have made most grown fiddlers cry. Accepted the challenge, cranking Rosie up to speed in ten seconds flat.
And pondered roads taken.
Ellie aimed for the crossroads that had called to nineteen-year-old Cassidy Farrell.
And twenty-six years into that journey, of all the roads she traveled all year long, it was the few miles of detour to the middle of nowhere that she looked forward to most.
Because, despite all the things two and a half decades had changed, she still lived for the music. Not the fame, not the accolades. The pure, glorious beauty of what she and Rosie could create together.
And coming here helped her remember that.
Chapter 3
Marcus contemplated the front door of the inn about twenty feet away. At Morgan's current turtle pace, they'd be there in approximately four days.
Her small fingers squeezed his as she teetered, her footing precarious on the gravel walkway. She adored her brand-new purple boots, but they deeply challenged her emerging walking skills. He'd had no idea how important bare toes were to toddler balance. "Almost there, slowpoke."
She looked up and grinned, which nearly sent her toppling again. He made a mental note to get her a lighter hat. Or heavier snow pants. Something.
Sophie came up the walk behind them, Adam riding kangaroo-style on her chest. She smiled down at Morgan. "Heard there were fresh blueberry scones to be had, did you, sweet girl?"
"'Cones." Morgan redoubled her walking efforts, nearly tying her feet in a knot in the process.
Marcus rolled his eyes and squatted down, holding out his arms. "Want a ride?"
The scowl that hit her face would have scared most Army generals. And sent Sophie into uproarious giggles.
He frowned - adults were supposed to help his parenting efforts, not hinder them. "Don't encourage her." The entire village thought everything Morgan did was adorable. It was hell on teaching her any manners.
An audible click had him looking up again. Sophie, eyes full of mischief, held out her cell phone. "Notice any resemblance?"
He tried not to