Melodis Tune Read online

  MELODI'S TUNE

  By

  Karin Huxman

  © copyright July 2004, Karin Huxman

  Cover art by

  New Concepts Publishing

  5202 Humphreys Rd.

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Dedication

  Thank you to Wayne and Carol Whitaker for introducing me to Lake Sebasticook and Newport, Maine, so many years ago.

  This book is for Ed and Carol Dixon, my mom and dad. Thank you for spending long hours taking us to so many corners of our beautiful country. Thanks especially for summers camping in New England. With love.

  Authors Note

  This story started when my mom handed me a clipping from the local Newport, ME, newspaper about an ancient fish weir that had been recently discovered at an outlet of Lake Sebasticook. I began intensive research about the ancient inhabitants of the region, and the story grew. That being the case, please note that many of the locales in MELODI’S TUNE are actual places, but all of the characters and the story line are pieces of fiction. My hope is that this story reflects my respect for the native peoples of Maine and does not offend.

  Chapter One

  The tune arrived with the sunset, carried along with the soft zephyr from across the lake. At first Melodi thought someone across the lake was playing a radio. As she sat in the glow of the setting sun, her bright yellow wool sweater keeping the autumn chill from penetrating, she changed her mind. This was no modern tune. It had a lilting, haunting quality, mournful yet light and arresting. Pleasant enough, Melodi enjoyed it as she watched the last of the fire from the sun diminish into the west.

  The shores of Lake Sebasticook, deserted except for a few hardy year-round residents, were dark and quiet. No wind ruffled the pewter surface. A single light shone from a house across the lake.

  The tune grew louder. Now Melodi was sure it must be someone nearby with a recording at the highest volume setting. The pipe strains echoed around her and she rose from the Adirondack chair she'd been lounging in to glance around. Her mind registered the green sward of lawn, now fading from emerald to dull sage with the last of the light and the ravages of the season. Not a soul was in sight. She didn't expect to see one. This property was the end of the road on this side of the lake.

  The surrounding trees embraced the lawn on two sides as it marched in a wide swath to the lakeshore. Maple, oak, and birch trees, with an occasional white pine mixed in, held bare branches to the evening sky. Two weeks earlier this same scene had been a riot of fall color, the foliage rivaling the sunset for brilliance. Now fading leaves littered the floor of the woodland like discarded clothing. Though scant underbrush created a gray curtain to Melodi's eyes, it was clear that no one was hiding in the woods.

  "Is anyone there?" Melodi called out anyway; hoping a voice would answer.

  As if in response the wind picked up. A blast of air, Arctic cold, buffeted Melodi as the tune increased to a frenzied pitch. It was so loud it hurt. She put her hands up to cover her ears. The sound did not dim even as Melodi pressed her hands tighter over her ears. Instead of the tune fading, it grew. In her mind it played across her senses, perfect melody of heart-breaking clarity, until tears filled Melodi's eyes with the combination of joy and pain the tune brought.

  A roaring sound broke the spell. She opened her eyes to find herself lying on the damp grass staring at the now dark sky. No glimmer of dusk remained; stars filled her vision. She registered that she was cold and her muscles stiff. How long had she lain here?

  As Melodi brushed a scattering of bright leaves off her jeans, the cause of the disturbance swung into view. A low slung, black sports car barreled around the last corner of the road and drove into the driveway. If a car could be said to be arrogant, this one could.

  Melodi rose from the ground and stretched. For a moment she swayed, caught in a fragment of the tune that had possessed her. It dispersed. She had time for one more sensation of the magic and wonder it brought her, then the man emerged from the car.

  His hair, shining almost blue in the starlight, was short and wavy. He seemed to take forever to unfold from the car. As he approached the house, movement sensors turned on the outside lights. Even from the twenty feet that lay between them, Melodi could tell that he was tall and broad shouldered under the leather jacket he wore. He stood and gazed at the house with a sense that Melodi could only describe as homecoming.

  Time to find out his particulars. She was the caretaker here, or house sitter, whatever she chose to call herself. This lovely antique house, with its precious furnishings of treasured valuables, was her responsibility for the long winter months.

  "Are you lost?"

  Darien Stewart jerked back from his contemplation of the house and turned toward the voice. The sound floated from the lakefront, disembodied.

  "Who's there?" he demanded.

  She walked from the darkness, a dreamy look on her angelic face, her long legs encased in form-fitting jeans. She wore a sweater that shone like the sun's corona giving an unearthly glow to her movements. He shook his head to get rid of the fanciful thoughts and looked again. She was less indistinct, but still had the face of an angel.

  What was he thinking? This was no angel, though the long legs promised a glimpse of heaven and the face looked like it would break into dimpled delight if she smiled.

  No, the last thing he needed was that kind of distraction.

  The woman hesitated at the edge of the light that shone from the porch. Unease flitted across her delicate features. Now Darien remembered who she must be. Hadn't his sister said something about letting a friend stay in the guesthouse over the winter? Yes, his memory supplied him with the facts now. Melodi Mason, his sister's friend from her college days. She looked dimly familiar, though he'd never been around the old homestead much while Judy had been in school.

  He took a closer look. This looked nothing like he imagined a student of anthropology working on a doctoral dissertation should. This dark haired vision belonged in high school, early college years at best. That she could be in her late twenties, no way.

  Her unease showed in the way she looked ready to fly off if he made the wrong move. And why shouldn't she? This end of the road, isolated in the busy summer months, became desolate in the off season. No one would hear a cry for help. He'd better introduce himself before she disappeared back into the darkness from which she'd materialized.

  "I'm Darien Stewart, Judy's brother." No sign of recognition. Darien sighed. With a long four-hour car ride from Boston behind him the last thing he felt like doing was giving explanations. He struggled to keep tired irritation from his voice, which was growing gruff with strain. "Look, Judy said she would call and tell you I was coming."

  "I've been out most of the day." She frowned. "I'm Melodi Mason, Judy…."

  "Yes, I know why you're here." The lilting caress of Melodi's voice caught Darien off guard. Its musical quality twisted the pain inside him. "I know the story. I'm here for the winter. You no longer need to look after this house. I'm here to work and I don't want to be disturbed."

  Melodi stiffened. He cursed his lack of tact. The vibrancy he sensed in the way she walked, tilted her head, carried herself, fled.

  "I see," she said, her voice flat.

  Darien ached to hear the musicality that had first greeted him.

  "I'll check with Judy of course. You have a key?" she asked.

  At Darien's nod, Melodi left him. She skirted the darkness, heading toward the rear of the house where the guesthouse stood in its own patch of gardened isolation. A motion sensor turned on the outdoor light as she neared the door. Darien swore it clothed her in an ethereal glow before she disappeared inside.

  Melod
i's departure left Darien unaccountably bereft. The empty silence of the Maine woods stretched out to him, surrounding him in loneliness.

  "Get over it." He shook his head.

  Good thing he'd stopped at the grocery store on the way through town. Though spotless, the kitchen was devoid of food. After plugging in the refrigerator and firing up the furnace, exhaustion hit him.

  He chugged down a bottle of juice to soothe his dry throat. Nothing as physical as juice could ease the ache that came with his throat's condition. The virus would run its course. In the end he'd be left without the voice that had made women throw themselves at his stage door. His meteoric rise up the country music charts was dead in the water.

  Damn.

  * * * *

  Melodi grabbed the phone on the first ring. She knew who it had to be before she picked it up.

  "Judy, why didn't you tell me your brother was coming?" she demanded before her friend could say hello.

  "Where have you been for the past twelve hours?" Judy demanded in turn.

  They laughed. They'd know each other since sharing a dormitory room as college freshmen.

  "Have you really been trying to reach me for that long?" Melodi poured herself a glass of Chardonnay from the opened bottle in the refrigerator. When she noticed the time, her earlier unease returned. "I can't believe it's after eleven. I had no idea I'd been out there for so long."

  She remembered holding her hands to her ears to try to dampen the sound of the tune, then realizing the sound was in her head. The next thing she knew, Darien Stewart was pulling into the driveway.

  Losing time like that, she couldn't account for it. A vision of the lake sparkling on a warm summer day flitted in and out of her mind as if she'd recently experienced it. She shivered as a correlation between the music in her mind and the dream memory merged.

  The fainting and loss of time bothered her. In the warmth of the cottage, with her best friend on the other end of the phone line, she grappled with the problem. As she did, the experience began to fade in importance. Melodi's fear dissolved with it.

  Something in her voice must have transmitted itself over the telephone lines.

  "Are you all right?" Judy asked. "And out where? Was Darien rude to you?" She shot all three questions in rapid succession.

  Melodi laughed. "What shall I answer first? I fell asleep watching the sunset. I'm fine. As for your brother…. Let's say that his first impression, well, didn't impress me. Why is he here? I thought I'd have the place to myself all winter."

  "Don't you recognize the name, Darien Stewart?"

  "No. He used to be in a garage band, wasn't he?"

  "You must be my only female friend who hasn't badgered me for a date with my talented, gorgeous big brother," Judy said. "I think it's time you descended from that ivory tower, girl."

  "Now I'm really confused. He looked tired, though maybe with some sleep and a nicer attitude I might consider him attractive." Melodi hedged. She'd found him devastating. The last thing she wanted was for Judy to know that she'd reacted to him the same way dozens of other women did. "I give up. Why should I have heard of your brother? If he's so popular and talented, why is he hiding in Maine through the coldest part of the year?"

  "Darien happens to be country music's newest, brightest rising star." Judy paused.

  "Uh-huh," Melodi responded, she remained clueless.

  "Don't you listen to the radio? Haven't you heard anything I've said to you about him over the past two years?" Judy wailed. "His music has crossed into the pop charts. His picture has been on the covers of all the celebrity magazines."

  Melodi remained unimpressed. "I'll take your word for it that he's famous."

  "Great," Judy grumbled.

  "That doesn't explain his presence here. Not that I'm worried about it, much. Once I get started writing my dissertation, an atomic bomb couldn't distract me."

  "You both need peace and quiet. That's the perfect thing about this arrangement. Newport, Maine, in the winter is the best place for you."

  Melodi tossed another concern through the phone lines. "Won't people be coming to see him? He must have an agent or something. What about those hordes of girlfriends you were so intent on telling me about? Is this ivory tower about to be mobbed?"

  "That's the odd thing about it." Judy's voice grew thoughtful. "When Mom called to ask me to give you the news, she wanted to be sure that I swore you to secrecy."

  "I can't even tell his agent if he calls?"

  "No," Judy confirmed. "Mom sounded worried but she wouldn't explain why."

  "Your mom's so sweet, she'd worry herself sick about the cat down the street catching a cold." Melodi had numerous fond memories of Judy's mother.

  "She can over-do it at times, but this seems serious. I hate to consider it, but all I can guess is that he has a problem with a woman or the law. Though neither is likely to be a secret. The tabloids love that sort of thing." Worry laced Judy's voice.

  "Tabloids?" The word evoked headlines screaming, Heartthrob's Love Child is an Alien! Melodi swallowed a sigh. "This is sounding worse and worse. Judy, I only came up here because I didn't want to sponge off your generosity by just taking the guest house free and clear all winter."

  "I know. You hate accepting favors, even from your best friend." This was an old argument.

  Melodi moderated her voice. "Trading my eyes and ears for watching the main house was a good way for me to get the peace and quiet I need to finish this project. I've got an appointment at a major museum riding on this dissertation. I can't do it if I'm going to have to deal not only with your morose brother, but fend off the press as well."

  "It's not like that. Nobody but Mom and I know he's there. He's not your responsibility. Besides," Judy's voice took on a softer tone. "You saved my class work and my marriage last year. I owe you. Please say you'll stay. I promise I'll call Darien and make sure he's planning to keep a low profile."

  Melodi thought about Judy and last winter. All she'd done was take over some lectures while Judy and her husband, Mike, went off on a second honeymoon. They'd always given off an aura of happiness together that Melodi hadn't been surprised when they'd wanted to go on a trip. She wondered now if she'd removed herself so far from the non-academic world that she'd missed a deeper problem.

  "Do you want to talk about anything?" she asked.

  "No, everything's okay now. Mike and I just needed to get away from the everyday grind, put our lives into perspective. Thanks for asking. Look, you stay put. I mean it. Darien will not be a burden on you."

  On that note, they ended their conversation.

  The last drop of wine slid down Melodi's throat. She yawned. Bed. Starting first thing in the morning she'd hit the books. A glance at the clock showed her that morning had already arrived.

  She thought about the evening as she got ready for sleep. It had started with the tune, then a frightening loss of time, and then the arrival of Darien Stewart.

  The song had been familiar in a way she couldn't put a finger on. The loss of hours scared her. Losing track of time while doing research or working at an archeological dig was one thing. In those cases she'd been immersed in her work. There was no rational explanation for what had happened earlier. She shivered and wondered what would have occurred if she hadn't woken up when she had. Maybe she owed Darien for that. His arrogant arrival had returned her to her senses.

  Apparently Darien Stewart had changed since she knew him during her undergraduate days. He'd made a name for himself. Judy had said he was recovering from something. Thinking back to their encounter, Melodi wondered if illness or fatigue had caused that haunted stare in his eyes.

  The sheets felt like they'd been hanging in the frigid outside air. Melodi pulled a thick wool blanket over the top of the quilt. Nestled in the warming cocoon, she hummed in her usual off-key way. The tune that had been the cause of her initial distraction carried her to sleep.

  * * * *

  Brisk, brittle, and bright, these qual
ities of the morning caused more restlessness in Melodi than she knew what to do with. Add curiosity, she admitted after throwing down her pencil for the tenth time.

  "All right. Satisfy your petty snoopiness and get it out of your system."

  She baked muffins. Not plain old cornmeal muffins or even blueberry muffins. These cappuccino-chocolate muffins were her mother's favorite recipe. Besides a good pot of coffee, they were the only things Melodi could cook.

  If the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, well…. Melodi wasn't interested in Darien's heart. She just wanted to confirm that he was as drop-dead handsome as Judy led her to believe. Then she could put him out of her mind for good and concentrate on her work.

  "It's just a neighborly gesture." She placed the warm muffins on a plate and covered them with a napkin.

  The sun shone with cold clarity. Melodi reveled in it. She skipped down the path to the main house, then stopped short at the sounds that came through an opened window.

  Her tune -- well, not precisely hers, she allowed. Someone was picking out a tune on the grand piano in the living room. He kept missing notes. She waited. He missed another.

  It annoyed her. The melody had played so perfectly in her head yesterday, and on some type of pipe, too, not the plunking keys of a piano. How on earth had Darien discovered that music?

  She marched in through the unlocked porch door, all thoughts of neighborly coffee klatch forgotten.

  Darien's eyebrows rose at the crack of the porcelain plate being set on the piano.

  "You're doing it all wrong," Melodi exclaimed. She sat next to him on the bench. Her hands settled unerringly on the keys. She played the tune as she'd heard it.

  "How did you do that?" Darien demanded.

  "I've always had a good ear. I can play anything, just don't ask me to sing." How did Darien know this tune? Had he heard it, too?

  "Not that." Darien's voice grew husky. "Lot's of people can play the piano. You played that song like you've known it all your life, yet I've just started setting it down on paper."