teaching style, she’d dropped out of sight after the beginning of the four-o’clock lesson. Desi suspected it was to take a nap, as she’d been yawning throughout most of the last lesson.
Desi opened the door and found a towheaded boy with bright blue eyes, who was a little chunky around the middle. “Hi! Are you Steven?”
He nodded hesitantly. “Is Mrs. Rask here? It’s time for my lesson.” He waved three piano primer books like a fan.
“I’m substituting for Mrs. Rask today. She’s my grandmother.”
His eyes grew to the size of quarters. “You are? Wow. You don’t look like her. You’re pretty.”
She laughed. The boy was already a charmer. Looked as though that Kent guy needed to take a few lessons from his son.
Last night Gerda had filled in Desi on all of the students. Steven was eight and showed potential, but he didn’t put in enough effort to make much progress. Her job would be to light a fire in him for the joy of music. Tall order for a substitute.
The boy seemed tall for his age, and remembering his gigantic father, she understood why. Soon, when the growth spurts started, Steven would probably outgrow his chubbiness as she had when she was around that age.
Desi walked Steven to the piano, pulled out the bench and placed one candy where the boy could see it. “That’s for after you show me your written theory homework.”
He gulped. “Uh.” He screwed up his face, making a bundle of tiny lines crisscross over his tiny nose. “I think I forgot to do it.”
She bit back her smile, not wanting to let his cuteness get him off the hook. She subtly moved the candy back to the bowl and opened his book. “Well, then we’ll work on it together, okay?”
The fill-in questions for note names and the staffs to practice making treble and bass clefs went by quickly with her guidance, and he brightened up. She put two shiny stickers on the pages, and he grinned.
Desi took the same piece of candy from the bowl and returned it to the prior spot. “Are you ready to play for me?”
He nodded, opened his book and dug right in. Clunky and uneven, he banged out the simple notes, but Desi could tell he’d put a lot of effort into his playing. Even to the point of grunting and muttering “uh-oh” or “dang it, I keep messing up.”
She loved looking down at his silky white-blond hair and thought for a boy he smelled pretty good, too. Gerda had been right—Steven showed potential, but he just needed to be nudged. She patiently worked with him, curving his fingers just so, straightening his wrists and gently prodding his spine so he’d sit straighter. When he repeated his slouched posture over and over again, Desi realized he must have liked the way it felt when she walked her fingertips up his spine to get him to sit straight.
“That tickles,” he said after the third reminder, smiling up at her, and her strict teacher persona melted around the edges.
When she explained some of the tricky parts of the song and showed him how to play it, she noticed his head had come to rest on her upper arm. The sweetie liked this attention. Maybe she could use that to make a piano player out of him.
“Would you like to learn a different kind of song?”
“Yeah, this one seems kinda dorky.”
She played a simple basic blues song that used the bottom notes to make it sound snazzy. Steven sat right up, immediately interested in the piece. She found the page in the book so he could see the notes and showed him how to play the first few bars. He obviously liked the rhythm and soon his shoulders moved to the beat. She’d found it—his kind of song.
“I tell you what,” she said. “You live next door, right?”
He nodded, making a serious face, exaggerating his already-deep dimples.
“If you want to come over here after school a couple days during the week, I’ll let you practice on this piano, okay?”
“Will you be here?”
“Sure. I’ll even help you practice if you want.”
“Okay!”
The moment she’d finished carefully writing out his homework, the doorbell rang, and she jumped up to open it. The Norseman stood on the other side, overbearing in stature, first drilling a glance through her then peering inside the house. She’d forgotten how big Kent was. In daylight, his finely carved features and cutting blue eyes almost took her breath away. Too bad he chose to look so serious all the time. He wore a navy blue polo shirt, but the sleeves barely fit around his arms. The standard jeans fit very, very well, indeed.
She smiled a simple superficial greeting, while odd tingles threaded along her skin. “Come in,” she said. “We just finished.”
“Hi, Dad!”
“Hey, son.”
Steven gathered his piano books and rushed toward his father. “Ms. Desi is a really cool teacher!” They hugged, and Desi could see the honest-to-goodness love they shared. It was the same kind of you and me against the world love that she and her mom used to have, and the display touched her deep inside. Maybe she’d cut the big guy some slack.
“That’s great,” he said to his son, then looked at Desi with near alarm in his glance. “Are you taking over for Mrs. Rask?”
“Just today. Her arthritis is flaring up.”
“Won’t you be my teacher next week?” Disappointment poured out of Steven’s voice.
“We’ll see how Gerda feels, okay?” She walked back to the piano and picked up the wrapped candy, then came back to Steven and handed it to him. “I promised to help you practice, remember?”
He took the treat as if he’d gotten the biggest present in the world. “Gee, thanks!” Throwing his arms around her hips, he hugged her and squeezed, his cheek flat against her stomach. Such a sweet boy. She couldn’t say he was attention starved, not by the way his dad watched over him, but Steven sure liked being around her. It made her wonder where his mother was.
Midhug, she glanced up at Kent, her grin quickly shifting to a more serious expression. Though he tried to hide it, caution and warning flashed in his azure eyes, and the hair on the back of her neck alerted her to let go of Steven and back off.
She’d reacted instinctively to the boy and must have crossed over a deeply engraved line. She didn’t have a clue why she’d tripped the alarm, but she’d respect Kent’s nonverbal message. He watched steadily as she stepped away, and when they’d said their necessary goodbyes, all she could do was wonder what she’d done wrong.
“Dad. Dad!” Steven pulled Kent’s arm as he unlocked the front door, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Ms. Desi’s the coolest piano teacher ever!”
“Mayor Rask is your piano teacher. Ms. Desi is just filling in.” He wanted to set that straight, right off.
Steven charged for the electric keyboard in the corner of the dining room the second they’d hit the front door. As he turned it on, the excitement in his bright blue eyes was almost contagious. Kent held firm, refusing to get swept up in his son’s enthusiasm. It wouldn’t be a good idea to let Steven get attached to every woman who was kind to him. And that had been his pattern since his mother had left.
No one could fill the void his son must feel.
Steven had his music book opened and seemed raring to go before the keyboard was even warmed up. Transformed before Kent’s eyes, the boy was the embodiment of eagerness—this from the kid who normally had to be dragged to piano lessons and who forced Kent’s patience to get him to practice. Steven pounded out a simple song that had definite blues overtones, and it wasn’t half-bad. The infectious smile on his face forced