Shadows on the Lane Read Online Free

old but it looks like new. It just sits in the barn with a tarp over it. He uses his pickup truck instead.”
    Jessie grinned. “So you’re saying there are all these cars in barns that no one sees except at weddings and funerals? This is beginning to make sense.”
    Jessie waved goodbye to Tina at the Adams’ house and headed for home. A van with a long ramp slanted against the open back doors stood in her driveway. Hooray! My piano!
    Inside the house, two men carried a small piano into the living room. Her mom spotted Jessie. “Where shall we put it?”
    Jessie already knew. “On the back wall by the window. Then I can see the trees and hear the birds.”
    While her mom signed the paperwork, Jessie sat on the polished bench that matched the spinet piano and softly struck each key from the bottom to the top of the keyboard. I promise I will practice every day.
    “Jessie,” said her mom. “It’s time to go to your lesson.”
    Great! We’re finally getting started. She ran out the door.
    With Phillip strapped in his child seat in back and her mother at the wheel, Jessie studied the countryside. She’d always wondered how the farmers plowed the fields in perfect rows ready for spring planting. But there they were, set to go. Giant trees edged the road to give the coming crops shelter from the winds. It looked beautiful to her and the sweet aroma of freshly turned soil filled the air and drifted through the open windows of the car.
    They pulled into a farmyard. Weeds grew around a clearing and in the gravel of the driveway. Rusty farm equipment, long unused, lay in haphazard piles near the broken-down barn. Boards on the corral fence were splintered and warped. Here, no crops would be planted. Only wild grass filled the surrounding land. Jessie’s heart sunk.
    “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Jessie eyed the farmhouse. It didn’t look much better. Paint peeled on the sagging porch and some of the windows had torn or missing screens. “This place is scary!”
    “Scary? Scary? Scary?” It was Phillip.
    Her mother turned off the ignition. “Now you’ve got him going.” She unsnapped her seat belt and turned to release the catch on Phillip’s carrier.
    “Polly Tyler recommended this teacher. Her name is Mrs. Livingston. I’ve met her a few times at church. She taught piano to Bryce Peterson’s dad when he was in high school.”
    “No kidding.” Jessie couldn’t imagine Dr. Peterson anywhere near this mess. “It’s almost two o’clock. We’d better go in.”
    A tiny, delicate-looking woman answered their knock. She must have been eighty years old, but stood straight with upswept white hair and eyes of sparkling blue. She wore a simple long-sleeved black dress with a cameo broach at the neck. “Come in! Come in! So this is Jessica. And you wish to learn to play the piano? Wonderful!” Her voice was soft and musical. Jessie loved her on the spot.
    They followed Mrs. Livingston down a drab narrow hallway and into a bright and sunny studio. On a wine-colored Oriental carpet in the center of the room stood a shiny black grand piano. Three sides of the room were lined with polished wood shelves piled high with sheet music and piano books. The fourth side was a floor to ceiling window framing a field of grass rippling in the breeze. In one corner stood a glass case displaying a violin. Next to it was a music stand.
    Violin? I wonder if she teaches violin too. Maybe she’s Bryce’s teacher.
    “See the big piano, Phillip?’ said Jessie.
    But Phillip wasn’t talking and kept a tight grip on his mother’s hand.
    “Well,” said Jessie’s mom. “I guess we’ll leave you two. Or should we stay?”
    “No, no. You run along,” said Mrs. Livingston. “Jessie and I have much to discuss. Come back in an hour. At three o’clock.”
    Her mother and Phillip closed the door behind them and clattered down the hallway. “Scary. Scary. Scary.” Phillip’s voice trailed off as they left the