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IT WASN’T UNTIL SHE heard the pounding on the door and glanced at the clock that she realized she’d been playing for over two hours. Unlike her voice, which could only withstand fifteen or twenty minutes of hard and focused practice, on her violin she felt like she was only warming up.
She hurried to the church entrance, wondering who would be stopping by. It was after eight, which in Orchard Grove time was akin to about eleven in the city. The sun had set, and glancing out the window she noticed that Greg had already shoveled the walkway.
Why hadn’t he called her home sooner? Was he mad she’d come over here?
She opened the door with an apology on her tongue, except it wasn’t Greg.
“Miles?”
He smiled down at her. How was it that she hadn’t realized how tall he was until now?
“I was jamming with some buddies at the school this evening, and I realized you’d left your coat.” He held it out to her. She’d been so focused on his height and her surprise seeing him there that she hadn’t even noticed it in his hands.
“I figured I’d take it to your house,” he explained, “but then I parked and heard the music in here. It was breath-taking. Are you a fan of Mozart?”
“Not until recently,” she admitted and realized that standing here with the door open was exposing her wooden violin to the extreme temperature as well as leaking heat out of the sanctuary. “Sorry, I don’t want to get him too cold. Want to step in for a minute?”
“Him?” Miles asked with a smile.
Katrina wasn’t sure what he was referring to.
“You called your violin a him,” he explained.
“Oh, yeah.” A flush warmed her cheeks.
“It’s all right. My French horn’s a beautiful, foxy lady named Nadine.”
Katrina tried to hide her giggle.
“Go ahead and laugh.”
“No, it’s not you. It’s just that my husband thinks it’s strange I’ve named my instrument.” She looked back to find him staring at her. What was it about his gaze that made her feel so vulnerable and safe at the same time? “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one,” she finished lamely and turned back around.
She was at the front of the church now. Her plan was to put Dmitry down, take her coat, and say goodnight, but Miles draped her coat over one of the pew backs and showed no interest in leaving.
“You come over to practice a lot?”
“Not really. I mean sometimes.” She set her violin down only to pick him back up again a few seconds later. “I haven’t played much in a few months.”
“Winter blues?”
“Hmm, what? Oh, no. Nothing like that. At least I don’t think so.” Why was she stammering all of a sudden? He shouldn’t be here. Even if Greg was too busy right now to notice it was dark and late and past time for her to have returned home, each minute she lingered put her at risk of being discovered here alone with another man.
So much for that newfound sense of boldness.
She pulled out her silk rag and started wiping her fingerboard clean.
“Don’t wrap things up on my account.” Miles was right next to her now. Looking down at the bow that trembled slightly in her hands. “I didn’t mean to cut your practice time short.”
“No, it’s just that I’d lost track of time. I really should head home. My husband might start to wonder where I’ve gone.” She let out an unconvincing laugh and hurried to set Dmitry into his case.
“Wait.” Miles’ hand was on hers now. Keeping her from strapping her violin in place. “You sounded so good from outside. Won’t you play for me just once?”
She glanced at the clock again. His hand was still gripping hers. She stood staring with her mouth open like some sort of idiot as Miles leaned toward her.
As if he hadn’t been close enough already.
“One piece?” His breath was hot on her ear. He reached an arm across her. Was he trying pull her in, or was he just keeping her coat from falling off the back of the pew?
Katrina took in a deep breath, the kind that was powered completely by her diaphragm just like he’d taught her. She wasn’t some little church mouse without a voice. Chances were that he had no idea how uncomfortable he was making her, and until she found a way to tell him, she’d be nothing more than the shy, speechless creature she’d been when they first met.
Her body trembled once, and he was pressed in so near she was certain he must have felt it. She pulled her hand away from his and took a step away. “I need to go home,” she declared, infusing her words with strength, conviction, and that all-important breath. “My husband is waiting for me.”