Page 76 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys
I nearly spill my coffee. “What happened?”
Her eyes go wide. “The guitar… will you teach me?”
Across the table, Emmett closes his eyes. “Sorry, this has been non-stop.”
“What?”
“That guitar lesson has been discussed at breakfast, lunch, dinner, and once while I was trying to brush her teeth.”
Sadie frowns at him. “I didn’t want you to forget.”
I laugh and reach down beside the booth for my guitar case.
The second Sadie sees it, she scoots so close she’s practically sitting in my lap. “Can I hold it?”
“You can hold it if you promise not to start a rock band before dessert.”
“I don’t even know how.”
I settle the guitar across her lap, helping her balance the oversized instrument. It looks enormous against her tiny frame.
Sadie runs her hand across the body. “It’s pretty.”
“It’s old.”
“It’s pretty old.” I show her where to place her fingers. “This is called a G chord.”
Sadie plants her fingers in places no human being has ever intended them to go.
The guitar makes a noise that sounds like it’s mildly concerned about its future.
Her mouth drops open. “I broke it.”
“You didn’t break it.”
“It sounded weird.”
Emmett snorts into his coffee.
Sadie tries again.
The next attempt is even worse, but Sadie lights up.
“Did you hear that?”
Unfortunately, we all did.
“I made music.”
“I think that’s still being reviewed by the committee,” Emmett says.
Sadie ignores him completely and plucks another string.
The resulting sound is painful enough that Emmett pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, we’re in trouble.”
“What?”
“She’s confident now.”
