A Week From Sunday Read Online Free PDF Page B

against the door.
“Bonjour,”
he said. He was probably a bit older than the rude creature with the wild hair, but he had the same rough features. Unlike the other man, he had a warm smile.
    Adrianna noticed the bandage on his hand. “Oh no,” she blurted out. “Is that from the accident?”
    “I’m afraid so.” Gabe’s smile grew wider. “I think that’s one reason Quinn here’s got his back up.”
    “That’s his problem, Gabe.” Dr. Bordeaux crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at the wild man. “It’s not a good enough reason for you to come in here yelling like an ignoramus.”
    “Since you’ve got all the answers, Sarah,” Quinn said, “why don’t you tell me how in the hell I’m supposed to produce a piano player when Gabe’s hand is busted?”
    “It isn’t broken.” The doctor wrinkled her nose at Quinn. “It’s cut and will take a few weeks to heal, that’s all.”
    Without a moment’s thought, Adrianna said, “I play the piano.”
    The conversation stopped as the three turned to stare at her. As her eyes moved from face to face she saw a mixture of different emotions: interest, surprise, and the last was the disbelief on Quinn’s features.
    “What did you say?” Quinn asked, moving past the doctor and placing one rough hand on the bed’s headboard. He stared down at her, his eyes narrowed.
    Her heart pumped painfully. “I can play the piano,” she repeated. “I’ve been taking lessons since I was a little girl. My father insisted upon it. He said one who had a good grasp of music was an intelligent person.”
    “I guess that lets me out,” Quinn said. “What kind of music do you play?
    “All kinds. But mostly classical. Mozart is my favorite.” A smile crossed her face. She was happy that she could be of help, but her smile quickly faded as she saw a frown form on Quinn’s face. Hurriedly she added, “I can play anything if you have the sheet music.”
    At that the man’s frown deepened. His eyes locked on hers. Adrianna could see the thoughts were whizzing around in his head. Turning to Gabe, he said, “Have you got sheet music at the Whipsaw?”
    “Of course, but . . .”
    “Then it’s settled.”
    “What’s settled?” Adrianna asked.
    Quinn moved down to the end of the bed so he could look at her. He made her nervous, but she did like to look at him.
    “The way I see things”—he grinned down at her—“you owe me for the damages you caused.”
    “I said I was sorry,” she said quickly.
    “Seeing that I’m such a nice guy,” Quinn continued, ignoring her apology, “I’ll be willing to overlook the busted bottles and damages to my truck. Congratulations, Miss Moore. You’re my new piano player.”
     

 

    Chapter 4

    “I T ’ S COMPLETELY OUT of the question,” Dr. Bordeaux argued. “The Whipsaw is no place for a woman like Miss Moore.”
    “The hell it’s not,” Quinn snorted defensively. “There are plenty of women who come to the tavern. It’s not like I’m running a whorehouse. Besides,” he added with a nod toward Adrianna, “she owes me for the damage to my truck and what was in it.”
    “He’s got a point, Doc,” Gabe added.
    “Damn right I do!”
    As much as she hated to admit it, Adrianna saw a degree of truth in what the big galoot was saying. She did not like to owe anyone for anything. She would play the piano in his damn bar.
    “You play for church singin’, don’t you?” Gabe said.
    “Of course.”
    “That’s what you’ll be doing at the tavern. We have sing-alongs two evenings a week.” He winked at the doctor. “Of course, they’re not church songs. The sing-along nights are our best nights, and without the big crowds on those two nights, the business would probably go down the drain.”
    The thought of playing the piano in a smoke-filled room with a bunch of strangers made Adrianna’s stomach roil. It seemed that this big, rough, unfeeling man wasn’t going to let her get away without paying her