Free Warrior at Willow Lake by Mary Manners Page A

rested his hands on the steering wheel and sat for a moment, sighing and wondering how everything had become such a train wreck. For a full two weeks, since she’d played for guests at the inn, Maci had expertly avoided him—failed to return every one of his calls. No matter how hard he tried to talk to her, she closed up like a vault.
    She’d fled the inn that night without so much as a goodbye. She’d even left her violin sitting in its stand; Ali had returned it a few days later. He couldn’t fathom what had gotten into her. No calls…no texts…nothing.
    So he’d bought a ticket to the concert. If she wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to her. He’d been patient long enough, and the patience was killing him.
    Worse yet, veiled beneath the bite of anger sat the truth—he missed her.
    And he didn’t even know what he’d done to set her off. But tonight he’d find out. He deserved at least some explanation.
    Jaws clenched, he slipped from the cab, the concert ticket clutched in his hand. Music drifted from the hall as the orchestra played through their warm-up. Mingled among the cacophony of sound he listened for Maci and heard the captivating melody of the violins section.
    He’d come to a fork in the road…one that demanded attention. He knew which way to turn. But the question remained—would Maci walk the same path or careen away…down a different road?
    Hunter picked up the pace, crossing the lot to moonlit steps. Inside, he’d find his answer.
     
    ****
     
    Maci adjusted the bodice of her gown and reached for her violin as the director gave a two-minute warning. As the soloist, she was dressed differently from the others—white satin instead of the standard-issue black rayon skirt and silk blouse. Hot stage lights—and the titter of nerves—caused perspiration to dampen the nape of her neck. The concert hall was packed for the first night of the Fall Concert Series.
    “Gonna be hard to concentrate tonight.” Marianne, the youngest violinist at barely twenty-one, tossed back teased blonde hair. “Get a look at that guy in the front row, center. Isn’t he a load of eye candy?”
    Maci peeked through the curtain, gasped.
    Hunter.
    “You’d better get seated.” Maci shooed Marianne from the curtain. “We’re about to go on.”
    “Maybe I’ll find him after the concert…” She winked and ran a hand through her hair. “Looks like he’s alone.”
    Yes, he was alone. Maci wondered what he was thinking, coming here.
    Maci’s hands trembled as she settled into position at the front of the pit. When the curtain opened she’d be slightly stage right, in full view of the crowd—and Hunter. She prayed her heart could withstand seeing him again without shattering into a million pieces.
    She missed him.
    But she couldn’t risk speaking to him. It would only hurt more. She’d finish the concert and make a quick exit through the rear wing, where she’d parked her car. He wouldn’t even know she was gone.
    The conductor raised his baton and a hush came over the concert hall. With a flick of his wrist, the concert began. For the next sixty minutes, Maci let the world go as she became blissfully lost in the music.
     
    ****
     
    “In a hurry?” Hunter rounded the sedan as Maci inserted her key into the lock.
    “Hunter!” The keys slipped from her hand as she stumbled, her heart pounding like a bass drum. “You frightened me.”
    “Sorry.” He bent to retrieve the keys. “You should be more careful. I could be a stranger…someone looking to hurt you.”
    “You have hurt me.” The words slipped out, and immediately she wished she could take them back.
    “Whatever I’ve done, it certainly wasn’t intentional.” He tucked her keys into his pocket. “I would never hurt you on purpose, Maci. You have to believe that.”
    “I…do…and I didn’t mean to say that.” She dipped her head, unable to face the disappointment that shadowed his eyes. “I didn’t say you did anything