Free Bluebells on the Hill by Barbara McMahon

fair
treatment.'
    His eyes narrowed as he looked at her
closely. 'How do you know so much about it?'
    'I'm a Colorado girl. Been to many a rodeo
there, and here in California, too.' She cocked her head.
    'You've been around for quite a while, or was
it your Dad's first?'
    'Dad's first; and I hope to leave it to my
son. If he doesn't get lost in foolish dreams of being a singing
star.'
    'And that's why you're here. To make sure he
doesn't,' she guessed. There were worse ways to make a living.
    'Yes. I've said I don't mind his learning,
just don't fill his head with dreams and empty visions of
impossible things.' He glanced around contemptuously.
    Amanda felt her temper rise. How dare he
sneer at her home. Were material things the only measure of a
person's worth? This place suited her. When she got around to it,
she’d fix it up and make it a lovely home. One he'd not be able to
fault. In the meantime, if she could stand it as it was, who was he
to judge?
    She wasn’t responsible for his son. How could
she help what his son thought, what he envisioned. Mac Mackenzie
had some nerve coming here, giving her orders on things he didn't
even know about. She'd fill John-Michael's head with dreams if she
wanted to.
    Instantly she felt ashamed. The man was only
asking her co-operation in dealing with his son, in the way he
thought best for the boy. He was probably desperate to enlist her
co-operation. Her temper cooled.
    ‘ I think you’ve made your point. I'll
keep it in mind,' she said.
    'Then there is no need to stay longer.' He
nodded and moved towards the door.
    'Mac.'
    He turned, raised an eyebrow.
    'Could I bum a lift into town in a day or
so?' She hated to ask, but she wanted to see if Dave had sent the
banjo and pick it up when it came in. She could walk again, but it
was a long way and carrying a banjo that distance would be awkward.
If he were going into town anyway, perhaps he wouldn't mind giving
her a ride.
    'I'll be going on Thursday, late
morning.'
    She tilted her head. 'Thank you, I'll be
ready when you are.'
    'See you then.' He left.
    Amanda stood still, listening to his steps on
the wooden deck, then the stairs, then the gravel. The door to the
truck slammed shut and he drove away.
    She moved to sink down on her cushions, still
bemused by the events of the afternoon. Was Elizabeth Burke serious
about having her sing at the festival on Labor Day? They were
certainly casual about things in Timber. No audition, no firm
contract, no percentages.
    Amanda shook her head. This was not a
professional show. It was a gathering of neighbors. Would they
really want her there? Yet, why not? She was a neighbor, now. If it
was for the community hospital, she'd be glad to donate her time.
She'd talk to Dave and get his feedback. Maybe they'd do it. It
would be a nice gesture for her new town. And maybe...
    Maybe nothing. She’d discuss with Dave and
forget Mac. Hadn’t his aunt said he didn’t attend. She guessed she
wouldn’t either if a life changing event had happened at the same
festival.
    Which it would again this year if she and her
entire band showed up. Wouldn’t that surprise the neighbors?

CHAPTER FIVE
    The next day Amanda spent in typical vacation
fashion, lazing around, sunbathing, reading one of her new books,
and panning for gold. Her skin was getting a nice tan, the color
even and golden. Her hair was turning lighter, too, with almost
white streaks through it from the sun. She was looking and feeling
much more relaxed, a regular schedule of sleeping and eating
erasing the strains of traveling and performing.
    Amanda was also writing. She finished the
first song, the one she had started on her walk by the stream. A
few refining touches were needed yet, but she'd wait until she was
with the full band to try that and get feedback from the others in
the group. It would be easier with all of the instruments available
to duplicate more closely the sound she could hear in her mind. The
lyrics and melody were good,