Nobody Can Say It’s You: A Hadley Pell Cozy Mystery (20 page)

“
A
nd a one
, two. One, two, three,” Hobie said into the mike.

It was the Speckled Pups cue to begin playing.

They immediately stopped.

“Hadley, honey,” Hobie said gently, “It’s like this.”

Hobie gently placed Hadley’s fingers on the right strings.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It’s all right. Think nothin’ of it,” Hobie said. “Let’s start from the top, boys. One, two. One, two, three.”

This time everyone was on the right key. They sounded good, Hadley thought. Even if she was playing with the group. They were in a small garage studio at Hobie’s. Hadley had set up her video cam, and Hobie connected up some extra microphones.

The band was playing her song. Her song! She wanted to laugh out loud and cry at the same time. It was wonderful. Not that she’d written a new hit, but to hear her words set to Hobie’s music was so fantastic.

Hadley had already warned Maury that she and Bill and Skippy would be receiving this recording as part of their Christmas. It was just too good to let sit on a shelf. And Hadley had a lot of friends on her Christmas card list and present list, too.

Everybody she knew or had ever come in contact with was going to get a copy of this song. Old Liberty Hyslip down at the post office was going to love Hadley in the next few weeks coming up.

Hobie was smooth. He was making his guitar sing. The boys were in good voice, today. Hadley thought if it got any better, she just might pop with joy.

Anna was going to love this addition to her website, too. The librarian was all smiles when Hadley had told her that Hobie had thought it was a great idea.

“Leave the camera rollin’,” Hobie instructed, when the last note faded on Hadley’s song. Hobie looked straight into the camera.

“I thought I’d add a song of my own to this readin’ effort,” Hobie said. “See, my mama didn’t have much education, but she did know how to read. And she instilled that love of reading into all us kids.

“All you tykes out there listenin’ to this, let me tell you, learn all you can. It’s hard work, but in the long run, it’s worth it. Stay in school. Make your mamas proud.

“Now, this is a song I wrote yesterday. I was sittin’ in my shop. I’d just finished makin’ a guitar. It’s this one here.”

Hobie reached over and traded the guitar he was picking for one that was sitting over to the side.

“It’s called
Sweetest Rose A’bloom
.

“
W
ell
?” Hobie asked, after the camera was turned off.

“Hobie Stricker,” Hadley said, “I think that’s the best gift anybody’s ever given me in a very, very long time.”

“Wanna go steady?” Hobie asked.

“Like high school sweethearts?” Hadley asked. “Don’t you think we’re a little too old?”

“Are you kiddin’?” Hobie asked. “I think we could still burn up the back seat of a roadster with the best of them.”

“Hobie Stricker!” Hadley said. “You rascal! Wanna go break in the back seat of my old sedan?”

“I was thinkin’ more along the lines of my old Bronco. A moonlight ride on Cedar Run Ridge. You ’n’ me ’n’ our birthday suits.”

“Well, that answers the question of what to wear. How’s that heater on that old heap, Hobie?”

“It’s good, but with what I got in mind, darlin’, a heater is the last thing we’ll be thinkin’ about.”

“Hobie.”

“Yeah, hon.”

“The suit’s wrinkled.”

“Don’t matter none. Mine is, too. Just means the skin we in is good and broke in.”

“Hobie?”

“Um’hmm.”

“I like the way you think.”