Nova watched the sun dip toward the horizon, entranced by the streaks of golds, pinks, purples, and russets. The view from Elijah’s patio was stunning. She leaned against the cast iron bistro table, studying the mosaic of seashells and stained glass embedded in the terracotta patio. They were arranged in swirls of dots and colors, much like the ones she’d seen in Hall’s Creek.
Dreamtime, she thought, wondering if Elijah had made this or hired a local artist to do it. He seemed to be artistic in addition to being musical.
Dreamtime,She glanced at the stone singer, who had recovered his cheerful demeanor and was whistling to himself while flipping steaks on the grill.
He inhaled deeply and sighed. “Ah, nothin’ better than the smell o’ burnin’ beef.”
Nova agreed. She had no idea what kind
