"Really?" She's so surprised that she laughs aloud, glancing up from the head--still not a walker--to look for a lie in his face. It's hard to picture Byerly, sophisticated Byerly, picking up a violin and playing a reel. Too bad there's no proving it out here. The best she can do is trust that smug look on his face--not fully, but enough to be willing to answer, "My daddy would've put you to work. He loved fiddle music."