“I have something for you,” he said. “Actually, it’s a Christmas present from Miss Ettie.” He reached in his jacket pocket and handed her a gift-wrapped box. “You don’t have to open it now. Save it for Christmas Eve.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Drew hesitated. “This isn’t going to happen, is it?”
“I don’t know,” Alison said. “It seems so difficult suddenly. I talked to the people from Texas after my recital. I’m their top candidate now.”
“That’s wonderful.” Drew reached up and touched her face. “Do you still want me in your life?”
“Of course I do. But you can’t live in my life any more than I can live in yours. How are we supposed to make this work?”
“I’m a doctor. I can get a job anywhere.”
“But you belong here with your patients. They need you.”
“And I need you.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, if we could gather round. We’re ready to get started. We’ll begin with a song, one of Ettie Lee’s favorites.”
Alison drew a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. “I guess that’s my cue.”
Drew gave her hand a squeeze. “All right. Make it good. Give Ettie a nice send-off.”
As Alison began the song, she felt a wave of emotion come over her. Tears pressed at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. But she focused on the music, on the words Ettie had used that day in the cabin.
She was sad for the loss of Ettie’s talent and all the beautiful songs she still had to sing. Her thoughts drifted to the story Drew had told her about Ettie Lee’s sweetheart, killed in the war all those years ago.
What was she willing to give up to have that kind of love with Drew? The job in Texas? Her teaching career? All of her dreams and aspirations? She stared at the flower-draped coffin. She could never ask him to give up his work here, with these people. What Drew did was life or death. She merely sang songs.
So it would be up to her. If she wanted to love him, then she’d be the one to give up her dreams. Was a chance at love really worth all that? And how often did love fade over time. Alison never wanted to regret her choices.
She looked up and met Drew’s gaze. Her heart ached and a tear escaped and ran down her cold cheek. She did love him, that much she could admit now. But love wasn’t always enough.
“WE’RE DOING THE NATIVITY at precisely seven o’clock and not a moment later,” Alison’s mother called from the kitchen. “And we’re all going to be in a festive mood.”
Alison sat down on a stool in her parents’ kitchen. She’d driven back to Ponder Hill as soon as her exams were finished, packing up the Subaru with gifts she’d purchased and work she planned to do between Christmas and New Year’s.
She’d been thinking about her next step. Her interview was scheduled for the first week in January and an offer would be made by the end of the month. But the closer she got to the job in North Texas, the more she wondered if it really was right for her.
“Frank Bellingham announced his retirement at the Christmas party,” she said. “There’s a tenure spot open at East Tennessee.”
“That’s wonderful!” her mother said. “I hope they’re going to consider you.”
“Maybe. They know I’m up for a job at North Texas.”
“Texas?”
“Just outside Dallas. It’s not far, Mom. And it’s a really good job. I’d be starting a brand-new department. I’d have a chance to build it from the ground up. And hire all the best people to teach.”
“But you’re studying mountain music. Shouldn’t you be near the mountains?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked. “You seem…sad.”
Alison shook her head. “I just have a lot on my mind. Thinking about work.”
The people from Texas had made their position clear. She’d be the point person for the new department, and with that came much more administrative work than she was used to. Teaching would take a backseat. And her publishing schedule would be accelerated. They expected a book and a recording within the first year.
Alison had been thinking about writing a book on Ettie’s life. It would make the perfect summer project. And it would take her back to the mountain—Drew’s mountain. The research would be difficult. There probably weren’t many people alive who remembered her childhood. But Ettie deserved to be remembered, beyond the simple gravestone that marked her final resting place.
“Your recital was so lovely,” her mother said. “I hope they made a recording of it. Did they?”