Half Moon Hill (27 page)

After a bit, he woke up and was, naturally, surprised to see me. He tried to smile, but when he couldn’t quite muster it, that’s when I understood how sick he must be. He said he thought he had a fever, and he joked to ask me if I was real or if he’d just hallucinated that the prettiest girl in the world was sitting next to his bed. I wanted to kiss him again that very moment, believe me, but I kept myself from it.

Cathy went on to write that she’d returned home by dark, but later, after her parents were asleep, she’d gathered provisions for Robert and snuck back out. She took a thermometer, half a bottle of antibiotics her father hadn’t finished after a bout of bronchitis last winter, and a thermos of the chicken soup her mother had made the previous day.

His temperature was 101.5, so I wet a washcloth in his sink and laid it across his forehead the way Mother does for me when I’m feverish. And I poured some soup in the thermos lid. I ran a glass of water and watched him take one of the pills. Then he fell asleep, but not before thanking me and giving me one of his handsome Robert smiles.

It was only then that I realized how strange it was to be in the cabin with him, to be where he lived. So different from my house, or anyone’s house who I know. He has so little—and yet he’s never bitter. Whereas my father has so much and seldom seems truly happy. And even though Robert’s belongings are few, and my father has provided him with such sparse living quarters and furniture, I felt . . . good there. Because I felt him there. And I’m not yet completely certain, but sitting there watching him sleep again made me think that I might perhaps be in love with him.

At the end of that paragraph, Cathy had drawn a heart reminiscent of ones you’d find on a schoolgirl’s notebook, and it made Anna smile. First love—it was so magical, so innocent. But then,
any
time you were in love it was magical—being with Duke was reminding her of that. He was so different from anyone she ever would have pictured herself with, but she wouldn’t have changed a thing about him. Even his wounds. Even his scar. Yes, she hated that he’d been hurt so badly in so many ways, yet his history made him into this man she’d come to love when she’d least expected it, and it had in fact brought him to her, so how could she want to take that away?

Anna read onward, learning that Cathy had returned to the cabin the following two nights, seeing Robert’s condition improve greatly. They’d spent more time talking, and Robert told her how much it meant to him that she’d risked her father’s wrath to care for him.

I’d always thought of Robert as so strong until then. But now I understand that everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes.

Anna stopped and read that line again. She let it settle deep in her bones. Cathy had been wise beyond her years.

The diary went on from there, sometimes about Robert and their continuing encounters, including two more kisses that had clearly rocked Cathy’s world—and Anna’s, too, in a way—and other times she resumed writing about family matters or school. But Anna could see in the words—could feel—Cathy growing, trading in her innocence for love and courage and confidence and wisdom.
I want to be Cathy when I grow up.

About a week later in the diary, Cathy came home from church with her parents to find a book lying on her bed—and Anna knew even before reading the words that it was
The Phantom of the Opera
.

O
n Saturday, when Amy was still absent, Anna worked at Under the Covers until two, then closed up shop. Upon arriving that morning, she’d found a message from Amy on the store’s answering machine thanking her for working all week, then practically insisting she close early today and come out to Miss Ellie’s. “Logan and I will be there and it will be a good chance for you to fill me in on anything I’ve missed.”

And though Anna didn’t really feel Amy had missed anything so important that it required getting together outside of work, she would have felt bad to ignore the message. And she’d gotten a call from Tessa that morning reminding her about the garden party as well. And so she’d decided maybe it would be nice.

But as the day had gone on, she’d decided it would be even
nicer
if Duke went to the party
with
her. She’d mentioned it last evening and not gotten much of a response—but by the time she was locking the shop’s front door, she decided to drive home and try to persuade him.

When she pulled in, she found him standing on an easel ladder installing a new light fixture above the garage door.

“That looks great,” she said, getting out of the car. The fixture matched the ones he’d soon be putting on both sides of the front door.

“Thanks,” he said, eyes still on his work.

“Almost done?”

He stopped twisting the screwdriver in his hand to glance down, his look teasing her. “Yep, boss—you got something else urgent lined up for me to do?”

And she smiled up at him. “Actually—yes, I do. Go to Miss Ellie’s garden party with me.”

He arched one eyebrow at her, his smile fading. “No thanks, Daisy—I’m fine here. You go and have fun. I’ve got more light fixtures to put in.”

Anna shifted her weight from one foot to the other, not ready to give up on this yet. “You’d be doing me a bigger favor by going with me. I’ve practically promised I would now, but I don’t want to go alone. I mean, you know how that is.” She’d decided she was not above playing on his sympathy—since she thought his going would do him just as much good as it would her, if not more.

“Guess you shouldn’t have promised then,” he told her, after which he continued twisting a screw into place.

She sighed, disappointed. “I really can’t change your mind? I drove all the way home just hoping you’d go.”

He kept working. “Sorry, babe, but no.” Then he stopped and looked down at her. “I had a nice time at Lucky’s the other night. And the Dew Drop afterward wasn’t bad. But a big party with a lot of people?” He shook his head. “Not up for it.”

Anna knew he had already conceded to her a lot on this stuff. But she also couldn’t help thinking he sounded as stubborn as the man she’d first encountered in the woods. And she didn’t want pure stubbornness to be the reason he didn’t go. “Duke, I know it’s not easy, but they’re nice people. And you probably think you don’t have anything in common with them, but you don’t have much in common with me, either, and still we—”

“Look, woman,” he interrupted her. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”

She stopped, took a deep breath, pursed her lips. “No,” she said calmly.

“Then get this through your head.
I’m. Not. Going.
Got it?”

And though the last words had been a question, he’d definitely asked it in a very final sort of way. So that she had no choice but to give up and quietly say, “Got it.”

Then she took the few steps back to her car and got inside. When she looked back to Duke, his eyes were on his work again. She regretted being so pushy now, but . . . he wasn’t even going to say goodbye?

As she started the car and began to back out, she kept waiting, thinking he’d glance back up, say something, maybe wave—and when none of that happened . . . well, perhaps it was silly, but her chest tightened and she experienced her first real pang of worry about having given her heart to Duke Dawson.

W
alking into Miss Ellie’s party alone was as awkward as Anna had feared. She stepped through a white latticed archway into a lovely English garden to immediately realize two things: She didn’t see anyone she knew, and everyone else had brought a covered dish.
If I’d known, I could have made a blackberry cobbler.

The spat with Duke didn’t add to her confidence level, either. She knew she’d been pushy; she knew his refusal had nothing to do with her. And yet the memory of him snapping at her stung more than it would have just a week ago. She felt so much closer to him now.
But it’s okay—everything’s fine. Just do this. Put on your best confident face, your best confident self—then in a couple of hours you can make your excuses and go home to Duke and everything will be good.

Taking a look around the garden, Anna was struck by the beauty of it. A few small white wooden café tables with matching chairs dotted the open spaces, but the real centerpiece was the white gazebo. And inside sat Miss Ellie herself, looking as pleased as punch for no particular reason Anna could discern. She couldn’t help thinking it would be a real gift to be so content at that age.

Since she still saw no familiar faces, she decided to go greet the elderly woman. Stepping up into the shady gazebo, she smiled down and said, “Hello, Miss Ellie—I’m Anna Romo. Do you remember me?”

The old woman’s eyes widened with delight as she peered upward. “Why, you’re the little Romo girl who was away for so long,” she said. And Anna rather liked the way she’d put that—there was nothing about having been “missing” or “taken” or “lost,” and the idea of just having been “away” was much nicer.

“Yes. I just wanted to say hi and tell you how lovely your flowers are.”

“Oh, I don’t believe there are any showers in the forecast today, dear.”

It took Anna a moment to realize Miss Ellie had just misunderstood her, leaving her stuck for a reply.

But Miss Ellie went on. “I understand you bought that big old house up on Half Moon Hill.”

Anna nodded, glad for a new topic. “I’m planning to open it as a bed-and-breakfast,” she said.

“Well, it’s much too late in the day for breakfast, but there’s plenty else to eat.” She motioned toward the food tables. “And if you need to lie down, just go on inside.”

Anna began to nod uncertainly—and just then an arm hooked through hers and she found that Jenny Brody had stepped up to join them. “Miss Ellie is hard of hearing,” she said to Anna, “so you kind of have to yell. And then just roll with whatever she says.”

“Ah,” Anna said, tipping her head back.

Then Jenny peered down at the elderly woman, speaking loudly. “I’m going to steal Anna away, introduce her to some people.”

“All right, Jenny, you do that,” Miss Ellie said. “Maybe that handsome young war hero. They’d make a fine couple.”

And at this, Anna glanced over to Jenny, who now looked just as confused as Anna, though she said to Miss Ellie, “All right then—I’ll be back over a little later.”

As the two exited the gazebo, Jenny shook her head. “Miss Ellie’s been my nearest neighbor for most of my life, and she’s usually sharp as a tack other than the hearing issue, so even I’m stumped on that one.”

“Thanks for the help anyway,” Anna said. “Tessa and Amy talked me into coming today, but so far, you’re the first person I’ve seen who I know.”

As promised, Jenny led Anna around to make the acquaintance of a few Destiny-ites she hadn’t yet met, including Caroline Meeks, whom they’d watched dancing at the Dew Drop Inn. But when, a little while later, they found themselves alone again, Anna couldn’t help asking . . . “If this is a bad topic, feel free to tell me to shut up—but how are you doing? I mean, the last time we talked . . .”

Anna trailed off, deciding too late that she shouldn’t have brought this up, but Jenny shook her head and said, “No, it’s fine. It’s nice of you to ask.” Yet she looked troubled. “And I wish I could say I feel better, but . . . I’m still not pregnant. And Rachel
is
. And—” She stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh. “She doesn’t even appreciate it, Anna.”

“I knew it upset you when she and Mike announced it at the Whippy Dip.”

Jenny nodded, still looking sad—and then guilty. “But oh God, I’m sorry—Mike is your brother. You’re going to be their baby’s aunt. So forget I said anything. That was wrong of me.”

Yet now it was Anna who looped her arm around Jenny’s, feeling the need to comfort her. “It’s okay—I’m sure anyone would react the same way in the same situation.”

Though Jenny looked doubtful. “Would they? Because I feel terrible about it.”

“You feel what you feel—you can’t help it,” Anna told her.
If feelings were easy to turn off and on, after all, life would be simple. Duke wouldn’t have hidden himself away in the woods. I wouldn’t have retreated to Half Moon Hill. I wouldn’t be so attached to Duke already that his cross words from earlier still sting.

When Jenny merely nodded but looked unconvinced, Anna dared to ask, “Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”

“Sure,” Jenny said.

“With Rachel, just . . . lay low, and try not to think too much about her having the thing you want. Instead, just try to keep believing you’ll have what you want, too, and maybe good things will happen.” Then she scrunched up her nose. “Does that sound too hokey?”

Jenny shook her head, clearly working to summon a smile. “No, actually it sounds . . . pretty wise.”

Anna shrugged. “Don’t know if I’d go that far. And I’m not sure I always do a good job of living that way myself. But sometimes there’s just not much to do but keep your head down, barrel through, and know there has to be something good waiting on the other side.”

Jenny and Anna had been walking as they talked, and just then the stone path they’d been following led past a white lattice trellis draped with pink roses, and beyond it stood a small crowd—and finally some people she knew. Namely Tessa and Lucky, Mike and Rachel, Sue Ann and her boyfriend Adam, and Tessa’s parents. They were all smiling, talking, laughing, so much that Anna and Jenny exchanged a look. “What on earth are we missing back here?” Anna asked her companion.

But then Jenny pulled up short, spoke quietly. “Maybe they’re talking about the baby.” And it was clear that if so, Jenny didn’t want to hear the conversation.

That was when Tessa spotted them, though, turning to face them—and it struck Anna that other than on her wedding day, she didn’t think she’d ever seen Tessa look happier. She practically glowed. “Oh, Anna’s here! Anna and Jenny, I’m so glad to see you guys! Come here—there’s someone I want you to say hello to.”