Sweet Surrender Read online

  “I’m sorry.”

  “He had bone cancer. It wasn’t a great way to die, but he had a great life. One of the main reasons I joined Doctors Without Borders was because of him. Even when he was really sick, he never stopped wanting to make a difference in other people’s lives. After he died, I was devastated. Working in refugee camps was my way of paying forward everything he taught me.”

  Tears stung Willow’s eyes. “My grandma was like that. Her cupboards were always full of home baking and preserves. Whenever we went to see her, the house smelled like cinnamon and apples.”

  “Is that why you enjoy making jams and preserves?”

  Willow nodded. “It also makes people happy when they eat them. There’s nothing like enjoying big, juicy peaches in the middle of winter.”

  “Talking about food…” Zac opened his backpack and took out two plastic containers. “While I was in Sapphire Bay, I stopped by a café and bought lunch. I hope you like chicken, cranberry, and Brie croissants?”

  “They sound delicious.” Willow smiled as Zac pulled out even more food and drink. “I wondered why your backpack was so big.”

  “That’s the other thing Granddad taught me.” Zac handed her a wine glass. “Always be prepared, especially if you’re sitting with a beautiful woman overlooking a picture-perfect lake.”

  Willow grinned. “I like your granddad even more.”

  “And I love you.”

  Zac’s kiss was as gentle as the spring breeze blowing across the lake. Willow didn’t know what would happen in the future but, right now, she was the happiest she’d ever been.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Willow stood on the shore of Flathead Lake and stared at the activity happening around her. In the middle of the organized chaos stood Pastor John. With his clipboard in one hand and a cell phone in the other, he was supervising the installation of the seating areas.

  Ryan walked toward her. “When did you arrive?”

  “About ten minutes ago. I can’t believe how much has happened since this morning.” Willow had driven into Sapphire Bay at nine-thirty to see Megan, Nora, and baby Rebecca. The trucks carrying the temporary seating were supposed to be here at the same time. And, like clockwork, they’d rumbled into town with everything the construction crew would need.

  “It’s been slightly crazy,” Ryan said. “But John has got everything under control.”

  The first concert was on Friday night. That gave John two days to get everything finished. “Do you think it will be ready on time?”

  “We’ve organized similar-sized concerts in Bozeman. As long as it doesn’t rain, we should be okay.”

  Willow hoped so.

  “Don’t look so worried. Everything will be all right.”

  Willow’s lips twitched. “You could use those words in a song.”

  “If it was that easy, I’d be the happiest person in the world.”

  Willow frowned. It wasn’t like Ryan to be concerned about his music. He’d written some of the most beautiful songs she’d ever heard. “How is your next album coming along?”

  “Slowly. It’s been more than ten months since my last song was released. If I don’t finish the album soon, my manager will lock me in a dark and dingy room until it’s done.”

  Willow knew how difficult it was to balance the creative and business sides of being a musician. Sometimes, in between all the other distractions in your life, finding the time to write new material was impossible.

  “Do you think you’ll ever retire?” Willow asked.

  Ryan looked around them. “Maybe. I don’t want to be sixty years old and still touring with my band. Living in Bozeman helps me stay centered and to think about a different future. One that doesn’t involve performing.”

  “How is your music school going?” A few years ago, Ryan had started a school designed to teach young people not only about music, but how to build a successful career.

  “We’re busier than ever. Two of my students have signed recording contracts with good companies. We’re negotiating a third at the moment.”

  “Make sure they have honest managers,” Willow warned.

  Ryan’s smile dimmed. “I heard David came to see you. Are you okay?”

  Willow had no idea how he’d found out about David, but nothing about the music industry surprised her anymore. “I’m fine.” She moved farther toward the lake as a long steel beam was lifted across the grass. “David brought me a draft contract from Sunset Records. They want me to make another album.”

  “You’d be better off going directly to the studio.”

  “I don’t want to record another album.”

  Ryan’s eyebrows rose. “Ever?”

  Willow nodded.

  “If that’s what you want, then that’s great. But don’t let what happened with David stop you from producing more music.”

  Pastor John jogged toward them. “I was hoping I’d see you both. Is one o’clock on Friday afternoon still a good time for the sound check?”

  Willow and Ryan both nodded.

  “Can we extend the program by ten minutes on Friday night?” Willow asked. “I’d like to organize a surprise for a friend.”

  Ryan shrugged. “It’s okay with me. What kind of surprise have you got in mind?”

  After Willow told him about Nora and the wonderful song she’d sung with her classmates, he was more than happy to include them in the concert.

  John opened a file on his cell phone. “What time did you want them on the stage?”

  “How about halfway through the concert? It will give the audience something different to enjoy.”

  John glanced through the program and pointed to a time slot. “How about here?”

  Ryan looked over Willow’s shoulder. “Looks good to me.”

  “Me, too,” Willow said. “Now all I have to do is make sure the children are here on Friday night.”

  John glanced at his watch. “I’ll leave that to you. I need to see the stage manager in a few minutes.” He shook Ryan’s hand. “Thank you again for coming to Sapphire Bay.”

  “It’s for a great cause. I’ll see you at the sound check on Friday.”

  “You will.” John turned to Willow. “If you want someone to look after Nora and her friends when they arrive at the concert, let me know.”

  “Thanks. I’ll ask Megan what she wants to do.”

  With a final wave, John left them to meet his next appointment.

  “I need to leave, too,” Ryan said. “I promised Sophie I’d meet her and the boys in town for lunch. Are we still okay for dinner tonight?”

  “Six o’clock at my place,” Willow said with a smile. “And don’t bring anything.”

  Ryan sighed. “You know what Sophie is like. If she doesn’t bring at least three dishes she feels as though she hasn’t contributed.”

  Willow knew there was no sense arguing. “I’m looking forward to catching up with everyone.”

  “We’re looking forward to spending time with you, too. It’s been too long.” Ryan hugged her. “I’ll bring one of my student’s albums with me. We recorded it in my studio at Emerald Lake.”

  “That sounds great. I’d love to hear it.”

  “See you tonight.”

  As Ryan wove through the road crew, lighting technicians, and construction team, Willow could only be humbled by his willingness to help people who couldn’t afford their own home.

  It was taking a marathon effort to organize the concerts but, with everyone’s help, they wouldn’t be forgotten in a hurry.

  While Willow was busy getting ready for the concert, Zac spent most of Thursday and Friday at The Welcome Center, seeing patients.

  Instead of going home after his last appointment, he decided to visit the old steamboat museum where the tiny homes were being built.

  Although he’d heard a lot about the construction process from Willow and John, he wasn’t sure what to expect. As soon he walked through the heavy wooden doors, he knew this was as unique as Past
or John’s original idea.

  Two more homes were in the process of being constructed.

  “Zac? What are you doing here?” Mr. Jessop stood beside a workbench holding a hammer.

  “I finished early at The Welcome Center. I thought I’d come and see how the tiny homes are made.”

  Mr. Jessop slid the hammer into his tool belt and pointed to a clipboard on the wall. “You’ll need to sign in and wear a hard hat. The health and safety rules make everyone’s life more difficult than they should.”

  Zac smiled. He’d spent enough time at The Welcome Center to know Mr. Jessop didn’t mean anything by his grumbling. Inside, he was as soft as a pat of butter sizzling on a skillet. “It’s okay. I don’t mind signing my life away.”

  “The foreman has finished early, but I’m happy to show you around.”

  “I’d appreciate it, but only if you’re not too busy.”

  “Never too busy for you. Besides, I can’t have you walking around a construction area on your own. John wouldn’t be impressed if you tripped over an extension cord. And you can stop calling me Mr. Jessop. My name is Stan.”

  Zac took the hard hat Stan handed him. “Thanks. How long have you been volunteering on the project?”

  “Almost since the beginning. When I ran my own ranch, I knew enough of everything to get by. If a building needed fixing, I did it. I figured my construction skills would come in handy for these homes. When I’m not at the community garden in The Welcome Center, I come down here. Were you thinking of volunteering?”

  “Depending on how many hours I work in town, I might be able to spend a couple of afternoons on the tiny homes.”

  “Don’t be too optimistic about the time you’ll have available. Knowing the folks in Sapphire Bay, they’ll keep you busy with their ailments.”

  “For the first few weeks I’ll be a novelty. Once everyone gets used to me, things might slow down.”

  “As I said, don’t be surprised if that novelty time frame takes longer than you think. Anyway, here’s the first house. The boys from Pastor John’s construction program fixed the drywall to the building this morning. Patrick, another volunteer, is busy plastering.”

  Zac stuck his head inside the front door.

  A man in his early eighties turned around and smiled. “Have you come to give me a hand?”

  “Not today, but I’m hoping to spend some time here soon.”

  The man held out his hand. “I’m Patrick Devlin. When you’re ready, you’re welcome to join us. Between Stan and I, we know enough about construction to keep you out of mischief.”

  Stan grunted. “You should know a thing or two about building a house. You used to own a construction company.”

  Patrick’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “That’s why this young man needs to work with us. But before he does anything, he’ll need to talk to the foreman.”

  “I’ll see him when I’m ready to volunteer.” Zac didn’t have a problem with talking to the foreman, especially when he knew next to nothing about building a home. “Plastering the house is a big job for one person.”

  “It’s not too bad,” Patrick said. “The homes have been designed not to waste too many materials. The size of each room pretty much fits full-sized sheets of drywall. Because there aren’t many seams, the plastering isn’t as time-consuming as you might think.”

  Stan climbed the stairs inside the tiny home and studied the mezzanine floor. “There’s a lot of work to do up here.”

  “Unless someone comes in during the weekend, that’s Monday’s job,” Patrick said. “It would be good to get these two homes on the lot in the next couple of weeks.”

  “How long did it take to complete the first two homes?” Zac asked.

  “Once the building permits were approved, about eight weeks, then another two weeks once they were moved onto the property.”

  “That’s fast.”

  “The architecture students who designed the tiny homes helped us with the first two. These are taking a little longer, but we’re getting quicker.”

  Stan leaned over the railing of the mezzanine floor. “By the time we start the next two, we’ll be seasoned pros.”

  Patrick waved his hand at Stan. “Be careful. If you fall, your old bones won’t survive the drop.”

  With a muttered curse, Stan backed away from the edge.

  “You can thank me later,” Patrick said loudly.

  “I’ll thank you when the cow jumps over the moon.”

  Patrick grinned. “I’d settle for a beer after work.”

  Zac smiled at the banter between the two men. It was easy to see that they enjoyed each other’s company. “How many people are working on the houses?”

  Stan stepped off the last stair. “Between ten and sixteen depending on what we’re doing and who’s available. I’ll show you the other home. They’ve already finished their plastering.”

  “And guess who did that?” Patrick asked with a wide smile.

  Stan waved away his friend’s question. “You’re too talented for your own good.”

  Patrick’s dry chuckle followed them out the door.

  “I knew he did the plastering,” Stan whispered. “But I wanted to annoy him.”

  “I don’t think he’s annoyed,” Zac whispered back.

  Stan muttered something under his breath.

  Zac nodded at the second home. “How do you choose who will be living in the houses?”

  “You’ll have to ask Pastor John. All I know is that there aren’t enough homes for the number of people looking for somewhere to live. We could build one hundred tiny homes and we’d still have people waiting in line.”

  By the time Zac walked around the entire steamboat museum, Stan had introduced him to at least a dozen volunteers. They were all here for the same reason—to give back to the community that had given them so much. And one day, Zac thought, he would join them, too.

  Taking a deep breath, Willow focused on relaxing her shoulders. As she exhaled, the air slowly left her lungs. Another deep breath, then a slow, controlled, exhale.

  “Knock, knock. Is it all right if I…” Megan stuck her head around the thick curtain. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were meditating.”

  Willow uncrossed her legs and sighed. “I was doing some relaxation exercises, but they’re not working. I’m still terrified of going on stage.”

  “For what it’s worth, you don’t look terrified. You seem calm and Zen-like.” Megan helped Willow to her feet. “I wanted to wish you all the best.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t worry about the concert. Everyone is excited to be here.”

  Willow swallowed. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Megan’s gaze shot around the curtained-off sitting area. With a relieved sigh, she rushed across to a bucket and pushed it into Willow’s hands. “Use this. It will stop anything from staining your dress.”

  What her dress looked like was the least of Willow’s problems. Deep inside, she knew she would be okay. But that didn’t help her nerves or the rush of adrenaline each time she heard the crowd clap and cheer.

  Megan rubbed Willow’s back. “Where’s Ryan?”

  “He went to check something with his publicist.”

  “On a positive note, you look amazing. Did you buy a new dress for the concert?”

  “This was one of the dresses I wore when I was touring.” Willow touched the sparkly fringe on the white jacket. “I’ll probably get too hot, but it’s a good outfit for the first couple of songs.”

  “Have you got a bottle of water to take on stage with you?”

  Willow pointed to a cooler sitting on the ground. “There’s plenty in there.”

  If it weren’t for Megan, she would be shaking like a leaf by now. Her friend knew she was scared of performing. This was her way of making sure she was okay and able to go onto the stage.

  “Is Emma looking after Nora and her friends?”

  Megan nodded. “The girls were happy to go wi
th her. Especially when they’re sitting in a different area than their parents.”

  Willow took a calmer breath. “Thanks for coming. I feel better already.”

  “That’s good. Remember, no one will be judging you. They’re here to enjoy themselves.” Megan looked around the curtained-off area. “I’m surprised John created this room for you. It isn’t exactly Caesar’s Palace, but it has a rustic charm.”

  Willow smiled. “As long as the rustic charm gives me some privacy when I need to change, I’ll be happy.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. It might pay to ask someone to hold the curtains closed. Otherwise, someone like me could barge in and catch you half dressed.”

  “I wore my sensible bra and panties.”

  “Oops.” Zac’s head appeared around the edge of the curtain. “I don’t think I was supposed to hear that.”

  Willow sighed. “It’s okay. Thank you for coming.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Zac studied her face. “You look a little pale. Are you feeling all right?”

  “She’s nervous,” Megan said on Willow’s behalf. “I’m not sure how we can help her.”

  “Has Willow tried any natural remedies? Lavender oil is great if you want to relax.”

  “I thought about bringing some with me, but Mabel had already closed the general store by the time I drove past.”

  Zac frowned. “I could always look in someone’s garden. There has to be a few stalks of lavender somewhere in Sapphire Bay.”

  “Hello?” Willow waved her hand in front of Zac’s face. “I’m standing right here.” For a few seconds, his smile confused her. Then, with a soft groan, she dropped her chin to her chest. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?”

  “If you mean you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion then, yes. But that’s totally understandable.” Zac seemed quite pleased with himself. “Megan and I may not know how to sing, but we know how to take your mind off something. Do you feel better?”

  Willow shook off her last feelings of doom. “I do. And the best part is that I don’t need a bucket anymore.”

  Zac grimaced. “My job is done.”