Page 106 of Echoes of a Silent Song
“My present?”Blair’s brows arched.“I ...I didn’t know we were doing presents.”
“Yeah, well ...surprise.”Grinning, he slid a plain white envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.
“What in the world?”She stared at him, then slipped her finger beneath the seal and pulled out a single white sheet of paper.
When she saw the words on it, she gasped.“Callum, this is a contract.For next year.Forhere.”
“Yeah.”A smile slid over his face.“I convinced admin to let me sign it early.”
The truth finally sank in, and she flung her arms around him.“You’re staying.You’re staying.”She smothered his cheek with kisses.“Oh, Callum.Thank you.Thank you, thank you, thank you.”Her wildest dreams—for the kids, for the program, for herself—had come true.
“Of course.”His arms tightened around her waist.“I can’t guarantee I’ll be here forever.But I can guarantee I’ll be here for a while.Because I belong here, Blair.I didn’t think I would, but I do.You’ve got a darn good bunch of kids here, and I love them more than I ever thought I could.They’re talented, hardworking, just plain good kids, and they deserve a director who will invest in their future.”He slid from her embrace, mischief in his eyes.“Plus, I didn’t think it’d be fair to rip their pianist away either.”
Blair searched his face.“Is this what you want?Truly?You don’t want Boston?”
“Boston isn’t home for me anymore, Blair.Peterson is.”He shook his head and tightened his grip on her waist.“No, that’s not quite right.Youare.Wherever you are ...that’s home.”
He lowered his head and kissed her again, a kiss full of passion and promise.
And music.
Because where words failed, music always rushed in.
Epilogue
CALLUM CREPTinto the auditorium, flipped on the house lights, and forced himself to pause and pull in a breath.This was it.The last concert of his second year in Peterson.He was exhausted, of course, and couldn’t wait for a break.But he was filled with excitement too.His mind already buzzed with plans for next year.
A slightly more immediate plan too.
He paused at the back of the hall as he always did when entering.At the end of his first year, by a unanimous vote from the school board, the auditorium had officially been named the Iris Wallingford Memorial Auditorium.A large photo of her senior portrait hung on the wall, along with an honorary degree from the Whitehall Conservatory and a framed copy of her unfinished composition.As always, seeing this tribute was bittersweet.Iris’s potential had never been realized, but at least through his and Blair’s efforts, she’d received long-overdue justice.Flora had confessed to the murders of both Iris and her parents and received consecutive life terms.Given her age, Iris’s killer wouldn’t spend as long in prison as she deserved to, but at least she hadn’t gotten away with it entirely.
As for Vic Nelson, he’d left Peterson, and no one in town had heard from him since the December concert.Rumor had it he now lived with his daughter somewhere on the West Coast.His publishers, when informed of his plagiarism, had ceased production of all the works that could be traced back to Iris.Only his original compositions remained in print—not bad in their own right but nowhere near as brilliant as the stolen ones.
As was his custom, Callum ran a fingertip along the frame of Iris’s piece, whispered a prayer, and then proceeded toward the stage, where, heart pounding, he took the cover off the piano.He knew Blair would be here soon to warm up.In fact, he was counting on it.
He tossed the cover backstage, then set up the piano’s music rack and propped a piece of freshly printed sheet music on it.It was a brand-new piece, one he’d just composed.Not his best work—he’d saved that for a couple of pieces he was writing for the choir, as well as three new commissions—but it would get the point across.
In this rare instance, the words were far more important than the music.
A door creaked open, and Blair walked in from the wings, blue binder in hand.
“Hi.”She greeted him with a warm, sunny smile.
The sight of her made his heart relax.“Hello.You’re stunning, as always.”
“Thanks.So are you.”She kissed his cheek, her eyes sparkling in the stage lights, then turned toward the piano and stopped.“What’s this?”
He grinned.“Just a little something I wrote.Not for the concert, of course.Just for fun.”
Her brows creased.“And you’re giving it to me now?”
“Why not?”He feigned a casual shrug.“Figured I’d give you something to warm up with.”
She approached the piano and sat down.“I usually just do scales, but okay.”Her frown deepened as she reached for the printed sheets and studied them.“‘Marry Me?’”She glanced up.“Is this an arrangement of that Bruno Mars song from a while back?”
Callum paused.“I ...didn’t think of that.But no.It has nothing to do with Bruno Mars.”
“Okay, then you’ll probably want to come up with a new title to avoid confusion.”
