Angel of Smoky Hollow by Barbara McMahon Read Free Book Online Page B

fastpaced song, to a very slow ballad, to music that sounded like someone could dance a jig to it, the recording played tunes so foreign to her ear she couldn’t believe it had existed all this time and she’d only touched a bit of it in her one class at the conservatory. By the end of the CD, she could hear more and more people from the town joining in. It sounded as if Webb Francis had just recorded a jam session that grew and grew and then burned it on a CD. Soon the background changed again. Now it sounded as if they were playing for an audience. Casual, informal, with clapping at the end of each song. She heard people calling requests. It was as far from a symphony hall as anything could be.
    As was the music. The fast songs were upbeat and fun. Theballads tragic and sad. The wide range had her interested as she hadn’t been in a long time.
    â€œI have to run out to do a couple of errands,” Mary Margaret said from the door to the media room.
    Angelica pulled off the headphones. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”
    â€œNo, no, dear, you stay as long as you want. If you leave before I return, just make sure the door shuts behind you. It’s windy outside. Wouldn’t be surprised if we have some rain. Finding what you want?”
    â€œI am, even more than what I expected,” Angelica said with a smile.
    She resumed listening, jotting notes of songs she wanted to hear more of. And wondering who could identify the songs where they didn’t announce them before they began to play. From the enthusiastic response to many, they were familiar favorites.
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    Kirk knocked on the door at Webb Francis’s house. He waited, scanning the trees that were already swaying in the strong breeze pushing in a storm. Angelica didn’t answer. He tried again. No one home. Where would she have gone? To the library, he bet.
    Sometimes the thunderstorms knocked out power. When he realized a storm was brewing, he thought he better show her where candles were and how to use the generator if she needed the water pump.
    Now he thought he’d better find her in case it began to rain before she came home. He didn’t really want to be walking around in a thunderstorm, nor should she. He drove the truck for the short distance to town.
    When he stepped up on the porch of the library, even he could hear the trees rustling in the growing wind. He felt the strong breeze across his face. The dark clouds from the west seemed to build above him as he detected a hint of a rain inthe air. He bet Angelica had no idea how quickly storms could brew in the mountains.
    Stepping inside, he saw the main room of the library was empty. The lights were on in the media room, so he headed back there. The sudden drumming on the roof signaled the arrival of the rain. It sounded like a gully washer.
    Angelica looked up when he stepped in the room. “What’re you doing here?” she asked.
    The rumble of thunder answered her.
    â€œStopped by the house to let you know about candles. The storms around here can knock out power for hours or even days at a time. Now it’s pouring,” he said. “You’ll need a ride home.” He walked to the bank of windows and looked out. Already a torrential downpour began making mud. The rain came so hard it bounced on the ground. The noise on the metal roof sounded like drums.
    Angelica came to stand beside him, staring in dismay at the rain.
    â€œIf we go out in that, we’ll be soaked within seconds.”
    â€œI brought my truck. We’ll make a run for it,” he offered.
    â€œThe librarian went out on errands. She said to close up if I left before she returned.”
    A white bolt of lightning lit the sky, the crash of thunder almost immediate. Angelica jumped and bumped against Kirk. He reached out to steady her at the same time the power went out. Only the dim light from outside illuminated the room. With the dark clouds overhead the day