Geordie put on a thick Scots accent and began to recite: “Och, wee chipmoosie, ye dinnae hae sae lang. The warld it is a fierce auld place and . . . and . . .” He looked to me for help.

I shook my head. “You’re on your own, Geordie, me lad, though you get big points for ‘chipmoosie’.”

“This is why I write tunes, not songs.”

“Then I expect to hear ‘Lament for a Wee Dead Chipmoosie’ very soon.”

We grinned at each other and I leaned back in my seat, happier than I’d been in a long time. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed goofing around in Geordie’s company, just the two of us, heading off to another gig where he’d be amazing and . . . well, I couldn’t dance up a storm anymore, but I’d be an enthusiastic member of the audience all the same.

We weren’t complete idiots for the rest of the drive, but we did keep it light, staying away from heavy personal stuff, which is why I still didn’t bring up my having broken up with Daniel. There’d be plenty of time for that another day. Or maybe on the ride home. But we did talk a little more about this enchantment that Mother Crone had put on him, and then, of course, I got worried all over again about what sort of danger might be coming his way. Geordie being Geordie, he refused to let on that it was any big deal and turned the conversation to what he knew about the band he’d be playing with tonight.

I let him get away with it. I didn’t want to talk about Daniel, he didn’t want to talk about this. We could get to all of that later. For now, I’d rather just enjoy the drive, short though it was, because a little over an hour and forty minutes after pulling out of Bramley’s lane, we were there, driving along Sweetwater’s main street.

“Wow,” I said, looking around. “This place has changed. It’s all so . . .”

“Charming.”

“Okay, I’ll go with that. I was going to say touristy.”

Geordie shrugged. “What are they supposed to do? The mills and mines are all closed, the logging industry’s dead, and nobody’s farming any more. The tourist trade is all they’ve got left.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” I told him. “Or even making fun. It’s just a surprise, that’s all. The last time I was here was with you and everything was wonderfully ramshackle.”

Geordie smiled. “I’m guessing ramshackle’s not so wonderful when you actually have to live with it.”

“I think there’s another tune title in there, but I’m too lazy to go looking for it.”

I sat up a little straighter as we came up to the hotel.

“Now what?” Geordie asked.