Amazing Love. Mae Nunn

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СКАЧАТЬ experimented with nail color. Today she was hip-hop, all decked out in baggy jeans and a football jersey.

      “Ready?” she asked.

      “Give me a minute, Dana.” Claire turned her back to the mic. After practicing some warm-up scales, she dropped her chin and offered up a silent prayer. Then she turned toward the light and removed the microphone from its stand.

      She inhaled through her nose and opened her mouth to begin. Before the first note rushed across her vocal chords, a voice intruded.

      “One moment, miss.” A polite command, not a suggestion.

      With her mouth gaping open in surprise she felt and probably looked like a hungry guppy. Her lips clamped together with a small “umph” as she waited for some cue to continue.

      “Go ahead, please,” the voice instructed.

      Claire closed her eyes to concentrate and recall the note to be sung a cappella, without accompaniment. Once again she filled her lungs, parted her lips and began to breathe the high C. The note started softly, low in her chest, then crescendoed over the course of several seconds into a force of sound that filled her head and resonated in the open hall.

      She’d tilted her head back from the mic allowing the sound to float heavenward. A high-pitched squeal pierced the moment. Her head and eyes snapped toward the source of the disturbance.

      “Sorry about that,” was the curt response from the booth.

      “Is there a problem?” Claire asked, knowing her voice held a hint of the annoyance she was feeling after the back-to-back interruptions.

      “There’s a new guy in the sound booth.” Dana’s pierced eyebrows drew together apologetically.

      “I noticed.” Claire curved her lips into a wry smile.

      “Take it from the top,” the male voice suggested.

      “If you’re sure.” She squinted against the lights.

      “I’m sure.” There was amusement in his otherwise brusque tone. “I’m also sure less vibrato will make your intro more powerful.”

      “Excuse me?” No one had criticized her skills since she’d fired her last vocal coach.

      “Control the vibrato, if you can,” the man challenged.

      Five seconds into the opening note the voice once again interrupted, “Cutting that high C off sooner will give you more breath for the next measure. Would you like to practice off mic before we begin again?”

      Claire jammed a fist on each hip as she glared into the darkness. The huge room fell silent awaiting her response.

      “Are you just gonna stand there in a double huff?” he asked.

      She was positive she heard the guy snicker.

      “Pastor Ken, may I speak with you for a moment?” Claire planted the mic back into the stand and headed down the steps. She took several unsure paces up the aisle, as she waited for her pupils to make the switch from white-hot spotlights to the dimly lit auditorium.

      A side door opened, allowing slanting rays of afternoon sun to pour inside. She was distracted from her mission as all heads turned to follow the progress of a runaway pup, barking with obvious pleasure and loping up the aisle toward Claire with a half-dozen teens in hot pursuit.

      Chapter Two

      Her agitation forgotten, Claire gave in to the force of a smile as it spread across her face at the unusual sight. This particular animal was so energized and jubilant that, for a few seconds anyway, nobody seemed anxious to curtail the pup’s activity.

      On stage, where Dana continued to set up the band for the evening service, she crossed one mic path over another and a screech of feedback blared.

      The dog darted beneath a row of seats, crouched in the darkness and whined in puppy terror.

      A male figure left the sound booth, navigating the darkened aisle in long, determined strides.

      “My apologies, folks. I’ll take care of this.”

      The voice was soft and humble, but definitely the same one that recently questioned her skills.

      “Hang on, Freeway. I’ve got you, buddy.” He held up a hand to ward off the approaching teens, a quiet signal the situation was under control.

      Dropping to one knee, he extended his arm, palm to the floor and allowed the dog to sniff cautiously. The sniffing soon turned to contented licking and happy tail thumping. The puppy crept from beneath the seat and into the waiting arms of a master who cradled the pet in a gentle embrace. “Freeway trusts me,” he said simply.

      Claire’s breath caught in her throat at the overwhelming sense of familiarity.

      “Sorry about that, Pastor Ken,” Brian apologized for the group, then herded everyone toward the door.

      “No harm done,” the pastor assured them. “Give us fifteen and we’ll be ready for you guys.”

      “I’ll put Freeway on a lead and find him a shady spot for a nap.”

      “Great idea, Luke. That’ll give Claire time to finish her sound check.”

      Claire was positioned in the aisle between the open door and the stranger in the shadows. She stepped aside to allow him to pass. Each step brought him closer to her.

      Closer to the light.

      “Oh, forgive my lack of manners.” Pastor Ken hurried to Claire’s side. “Hit the house lights, please,” he called to a volunteer and the florescent bulbs overhead blazed to life.

      “Claire Savage, I’d like to introduce Luke Dawson. Luke, Claire is the young woman with the incredible voice I was telling you about.”

      She reached to steady herself on the back of a nearby folding chair. Standing before her was the Good Samaritan who had monopolized her thoughts for the better part of the day.

      Luke clenched his teeth and waited for the response that almost always accompanied an introduction. People never said anything out loud, not in front of him anyway. But unspoken pity for his permanent disfigurement was there. Loud and clear.

      If they only knew he’d been through fourteen grueling procedures to get to this point. Skin grafts were amazing, not magical, and there was a limit to what reconstructive surgery could accomplish. The remaining scar on his neck was the last remnant of the fire and a constant reminder of the all-consuming demon that was only a snort away. He’d long ago accepted the ugly scar on his neck. And in an oddly comforting way, facing the vestige of his freebasing accident in the mirror every day kept him from slipping back into the pit of his destructive past.

      He shifted Freeway’s lanky frame and extended a hand. She hesitated before dropping her purse onto the seat of the nearest chair and accepting his grasp.

      “Pleased to meet you,” she said, and for once a greeting surprised him.

      Sincere СКАЧАТЬ