Bells Will Be Ringing Page 2

  “Thumbs up to all concerned, and you haven’t seen me here because I haven’t been here. I haven’t been in the States for more than a year. I just got home from a stint in the Middle East.” He wasn’t usually so forthcoming with personal information, but something about her made him want to open up. Dangerous. This woman could very easily get under his skin.

  “You’re a soldier?” she asked, her expression going serious.

  “Navy,” he replied, tempted to say more, but some of his usual caution reasserted itself.

  “My grandad was in the Navy in World War Two,” she answered. “He has some great stories to tell.”

  “They truly were the greatest generation,” he agreed. “I’d love to talk to him sometime.”

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as if appraising him, then nodded. “I think he’d like that.” She held out her hand in a businesslike manner. “Eileen Murphy,” she introduced herself.

  He took her hand, pleased by her strong, no-nonsense grip. “Alan Fraser.” They shook hands, and he was reluctant to let her go.

  “Well, Alan Fraser, what’s your favorite Christmas song?” A playful glint lit her pretty green eyes. She wasn’t a flashy sort of woman, but she sparkled in her own unique way.

  “It’s a little obscure,” he warned.

  “Hit me with the title. I bet I know it,” she teased.

  “I think the official title is something like ‘Please Come Home for Christmas’. The version I know was sung by—”

  “Don Henley!” she cut him off with exactly the words he was about to say. She grinned happily. “That’s one of my favorites, too. Nice and bluesy. A little sad, though. I’ll try to fit it into the next set for you.”

  “Oh.” He was surprised by her offer, though he probably shouldn’t have been, considering she was in the band. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  “Only three weeks to the big day,” she said. “I have to make the most of the Christmas songs while we can play them. It’ll be back to our regular stuff soon enough.”

  “Your band seems to have quite a following,” he said, hoping to keep the conversation flowing.

  A wistful look crossed her delicate features. “They’re not really here for us. It’s more about the lead singer we just lost.”

  “I heard, and I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said. “I know how it is to lose someone suddenly. I’ve lost a few friends overseas.”

  She looked at him with dawning understanding in her gaze. “We didn’t lose her to enemy action, but I guess the sudden change in circumstances is similar. For what it’s worth, you have my sympathy on the loss of your friends, and my deepest respect for your service.”

  He nodded in acknowledgment of her words. It always made him a little uncomfortable when someone thanked him for doing the job he loved. Uncomfortable and proud at the same time. Alan privately thought it was his honor to serve the country he loved so much.

  Of course, his most recent stint was nearly over. He wasn’t sure yet if he was going to re-up for another tour or stay home for good this time. He had a few days to think about it, but he’d have to make his decision before Christmas. It was a question that weighed heavily on his mind.

  Alan realized he must’ve stayed silent too long. The lovely woman next to him began to fidget as he gazed at her, but he couldn’t help himself. She was gorgeous.

  The rest of the band was getting ready for the next set, and he saw her look over. He sensed she was about to take her leave, and he looked for some excuse to keep her there, talking with him, but he couldn’t come up with anything plausible. Nothing came to mind to stop her from picking up her water bottle and heading back to the small stage, giving him a quick smile as she left.

  In the middle of the next set, Eileen put aside her guitar and took a seat behind the keyboard. Alan had kept watch on her throughout the night, and this was the first time she’d opted to play the piano. He wondered what would come next, and then, she began playing the distinctive intro to the song he’d requested.

  A smile stretched his face as she launched into the bluesy tune he remembered from Christmases past. A woman of many talents, she was showing off some serious skills on the keyboard as she let loose with the vocals, the rest of the band backing her perfectly. Her version was spot on, as far as he was concerned, and her voice entranced him.

  Alan didn’t get another chance to talk to the songstress, but he was sure to leave a hundred dollar bill in her tip jar before his group left. He would’ve liked to have stayed to the end of the band’s performance, but tonight was supposed to be about reconnecting with his old friends. They wanted to move on to play pool in the hall they used to go to when they were younger, and he couldn’t really come up with a good excuse to send them on without him. They had organized this evening just for him. The least he could do was be there for it.

  *

  “If he was really interested in her, he would’ve stayed,” the young spirit observed with a sniff, watching the handsome man leave the pub.

  “Give the boy time. He’s got a lot on his plate, and he’s juggling the best he can,” the angel replied.

  “That ain’t no boy,” the sassy spirit said. “If I was still down there, I’d go for him myself.”

  “I know.” The angel’s voice was rich with disapproval.

  *

  Eileen watched the group of handsome men leave about midway through her second set. The band had been contracted to perform three sets, as usual, so it would be a while before they could go home.

  She had smiled at Alan when he’d approached the bandstand, a bill hidden in his hand. He’d placed it gently in the tip jar kept right in front of her station on the platform. He’d returned her smile before he’d left, shrugging in a way that made her think he’d wanted to stay but couldn’t.

  Leaning down to check her amp plug a few minutes after his group had left, she was shocked to find the folded bill had an extra zero. Pay must be really good in the Navy these days. Either that or he really loved that song she’d played for him. Either way, she was floored by his generosity. She didn’t often see hundreds in her tip jar.

  Alan Fraser was a class act all the way, and she wondered idly if she’d ever see him again. Not that she expected hundred-dollar tips all the time, but aside from the money, he’d intrigued her. He was the first person she’d talked to who seemed to accept her sparse words about Mary and didn’t push her to say more. He seemed to understand exactly where she was coming from. Like he’d been where she was and knew what it was like.

  She supposed he had been. Nobody really seemed to understand loss unless they’d been through it themselves, and each loss hurt in a different way, she was learning. Losing her mother had been devastating. Losing Mary was equally devastating but the pain was different.

  Mom had lived a full life and had died too soon, but having had a happy family and complete experience on this earth. Mary had died tragically, her life unlived, her few days filled with sorrow and pain. Her marriage had killed her, in the end. Choosing the wrong man had been the beginning of the downward spiral that had finally ended in a fiery crash on a lonely road.

  It was a heartbreak different from the one Eileen still felt when she thought about her mother, but just as sad. Perhaps even more so for the opportunities lost. Mary had been so full of life and talent. She’d barely begun to live before dying.

  And she’d taken the sparkle of the band that was her showcase with her. Try as she might, Eileen just couldn’t do the same glitz and glamour Mary had put on so easily. Eileen was a simpler person with a simpler style. And it was damned hard trying to smile and entertain when her heart was broken and still bleeding.

  Eileen knew she had to reinvent the band, somehow, because they couldn’t go on doing the same material Mary had excelled at. The glitzy approach didn’t fit any of the talent they had left, and it would be really hard to try to replace Mary with another musician of the same type. For one thing, it wouldn’t fe
el right. For another, Mary had been the real deal. She’d had perfect pitch and could pick up pretty much any tune in a matter of minutes, where the rest of them had to work at it a little.

  Plus, they liked the band the way it was. They’d ironed out all their personality quirks early on and got along great, which was a blessing when spending so much time together under such intense scrutiny. They didn’t need to throw a new member into the mix. They just needed to figure out where they went from here, without Mary’s glamorous personality driving their direction.

  Playing that bluesy Christmas song had felt really good tonight, Eileen reflected. It was a song Mary never would have done. It didn’t fit her sunny persona, but it had felt right at home for Eileen. Maybe she needed to go more in that direction. Lord knew, the band had suffered enough these past few weeks to play the blues with conviction.

  Eileen resolved to ask the rest of the band about it on the next break.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Over the next week—his first at home in about a year—Alan found himself thinking about that singer at odd times. Eileen. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Her voice haunted him, the darker quality of it touching a chord inside he couldn’t quite explain.

  When the weekend rolled around again, he found himself back at The Rose, running solo this time. He arrived just after the music started and bellied up to the bar, which was as good a vantage point as any, though he strategically picked a spot near the service end, so that if a certain songbird came by between sets to get a bottle of water, he might just…say…casually, run into her.

  Yeah, the ploy was about as transparent as that water bottle of hers, but it was all he could come up with on short notice. With any luck, she wouldn’t laugh in his face.

  He listened through the rest of the first set, declining to make much small talk with the few who tried. He wasn’t really sure why he had come back to the bar. To see the girl, of course, but what was it about her that was so compelling? Why had he spent the better part of a week thinking about her?

  Maybe tonight he would get some answers—if only for his own peace of mind. He’d been thinking about Eileen so much, he hadn’t really been able to concentrate on the life-altering decision he had to make before the holidays were up.

  To stay in the Navy or retire… Either way, his life would change. A few of his teammates had already put in for retirement, so if he went back, the team would be different.

  If he left, he’d have to figure out what he was good for in the civilian world. That was a scary prospect, but one that he’d have to face sooner or later—if he was lucky enough to survive more time in. He wasn’t a pessimist by nature, but he’d seen and done a lot over the past years, and he knew soldiers didn’t always live to tell their war stories. He wasn’t sure he wanted to roll those dice again, but then again, he wasn’t sure he didn’t.

  He was supposed to be taking this time off to figure it out. Instead, he’d become obsessed with a woman with a sultry voice and sad eyes.

  Speaking of whom… She was heading in his direction now that the band was taking a break. She came right to him, as if she’d seen him standing there at some point and wanted to come right over and say hello. The smile on her face felt like it was just for him, which made his heart feel funny things, best left unexamined for the moment.

  “Hey, sailor, good to see you again,” she greeted him as she pulled up beside him at the bar.

  “You remembered,” he grinned, pleased that she’d remembered his branch of service. Not all civilians would know one military group from the other.

  “I did,” she agreed, grinning. “And though you probably didn’t mean it as advice, I took your musical suggestion to heart, as well. Did you notice the bluesy beat we’ve been experimenting with?”

  “I did. I just wasn’t sure if that was something new.”

  “Very new. For a long time, we were a traditional Irish band because our lead singer was a glamour girl who could pull off the bright and cheery façade way better than the rest of us. She set the tone, and we’ve been trying to keep that going, but our hearts really weren’t in it. We’re experimenting. Looking for a new direction that people will like and that we enjoy playing,” she told him. “When we did that song for you last week, we started to find a groove we haven’t had since…”

  “Since your friend died,” he completed the sentence for her, knowing she was probably a little choked up and wanting to make things easier on her. “I understand.”

  She looked up at him and met his gaze with a tilt of her head that spoke volumes. “You know? I believe you do. Thanks, Alan. You did the whole band a good turn last week just by making that request, and I need to return this to you.” She took his hand and placed a folded bill in it.

  A quick glance told him it was the hundred-dollar bill he’d left for her last week. He quickly took hold of her hand and passed it back.

  “That was for you, Eileen. For humoring me and playing a song not too many people in here knew. Oh, and for knocking it straight out of the ballpark, too. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that tune sound better.” He folded her fingers down around the greenback, holding her hand a bit longer than strictly necessary as he gazed into her eyes.

  She really was the prettiest girl he’d seen in a very long time. And there was something about her. Some low-level sparkle, just under the surface, that made him want to be around her. To get to know her. To learn all her secrets.

  “Will you go out with me?” he asked, not really knowing where the words were coming from. Sure, he’d thought about asking her out, but he hadn’t planned to spring the question on her like this. He backpedaled a bit, in case he’d come on too strong. “Maybe we could have lunch sometime this week?”

  Her gaze narrowed, but the smile stayed on her face. Was that a good sign or a bad one? He didn’t know. Luckily, she didn’t keep him waiting for an answer too long.

  “Yes,” she said, and his heart started beating again. “But it’s my treat.” She held up the bill as he released her hand. “As nice a meal as this baby will buy.”

  He had to laugh at the way she’d turned the tables on him, but she’d said yes. He wasn’t going to argue with her now and have her change her mind. Better to wait on that little dispute about who would pay the bill when the time came.

  “All right. You pick the place. I haven’t been home in a long time, and I’m not sure what’s still good around here.”

  They talked for a few more minutes as she told him about a new restaurant that she liked, and they made plans to have lunch together on Monday. Before they knew it, she had to go back to work, the short break over. Alan watched the next set, listening closely to the small changes the band had made in their sound over the intervening week since he’d first heard them.

  It was subtle, but there was a difference. They sounded better to his ears. Tighter. With more energy than they’d had before. To look at them, the band members actually seemed to be enjoying themselves this time. Not just phoning it in, playing stuff they’d played a million times…the same old, same old.

  No, this group looked like they were enjoying a new set of challenges. They grinned at each other during solo spots and at particularly intense riffs. They played the old Irish standards with a slightly modern twist, and the crowd seemed to respond even better than they had the week before. More dancers were treading the boards on the tiny dance floor in front of the stage, and when it came time for some of the old standards, even more people were singing along.

  They played the occasional Christmas carol since the big day was even closer now, but they even put a bluesy spin on those old tunes that somehow made them fresh and new, groovy and cool. The new sound the band was playing with got stronger as the night wore on, and by the end of their second set, all the band members were laughing and joking around with each other. Every single one of them looked happier than they had been the previous week, when he’d noticed there were few smiles and no joy to be shared on the bandstand.<
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  When Eileen came to the bar to get a new water bottle on the second break of the night, a couple of the guys from the band joined her. If Alan wasn’t very much mistaken, he was about to get the once over by a couple of protective big brother types. He didn’t mind too much.

  The fact that they cared enough to check him out was good. A woman who stayed out late in bars every weekend needed a couple of big guys like those from the band to make sure she was safe. He was glad she had them, even if it meant he was probably going to have an uncomfortable few minutes getting the third degree.

  Eileen looked distinctly embarrassed when the two men followed her to the bar. They put in orders for pints with the bartender before turning and demanding in a friendly way to be introduced to her new friend.

  “Alan, this is Brendan and Jimmy,” she said, pointing to the guitarist and bassist respectively. The look on her face warned the two musicians to play nice, and the look she shot in Alan’s direction begged forgiveness for what might be about to happen.

  “Alan,” Jimmy repeated the name, leaning over Eileen’s shoulder to shake Alan’s hand. “You wouldn’t be Alan Fraser, would you?” Alan agreed that he was and waited to hear how this guy had known his last name. The explanation wasn’t long in coming. “I’m Jimmy Dougan. You went to school with my older brothers, Christopher and William, and I know your sister, Teri. She said you were home for a visit when I saw her at mass last week. We both sing in the choir at St. Ignatius.”

  Alan laughed as they shook hands. “How could I forget the Terrible Twins? How are Chris and Billy doing? They went Army, right?”

  “82nd Airborne,” Jimmy confirmed. “But they said you’d gone for the trident. You really a SEAL?” he asked in a low tone that carried only to their small group, for which Alan was grateful.

  While it was a source of pride to have made the cut to become a Navy SEAL, it wasn’t something he went around boasting about to civilians. He wondered if knowing he was a Special Forces soldier would make any difference to Eileen. She didn’t seem the type to chase danger or go on a SEAL hunt, like some of the women in bars near the base were known to do.