Stranger in the Moonlight (23 page)

“The landlord was furious,” the woman said. “Dave left so much junk behind and the landlord has to take care of it. But then some man called and said he’d come get everything. The whole building is talking about it. What do you know?”

“Nothing,” Kim said and politely hung up.

She’d told Travis she hated the way he’d swooped in and taken over, but there was a part of her that was grateful that he’d saved her from Dave. Kim now wondered if she would have agreed to marry him. Had Jecca’s wedding, her happiness, made Kim so envious that she would have said yes just to . . . ? She didn’t want to think about what could have happened.

Earlier, as Kim had pulled into Joe’s parking lot, her cell buzzed. It was an e-mail from her brother and there was an attachment. Kim hesitated before opening it because she knew what it was going to be. But she also knew she needed to see the truth. She pushed the button and the first thing she saw was a photo of some drop-dead gorgeous woman named Leslie. The caption read
WEDDING BELLS FOR A MAXWELL
? The article told how the beautiful model had been going steady with the megarich son of Randall Maxwell for months now. “
Travis—über rich, über beautiful—never dates anyone for longer than six weeks. But he and the luscious Leslie have been together for nearly a year now. Can we look forward to a wedding like the world has never before seen?”

Kim couldn’t stand to read the rest of the documents her brother had sent. That one was quite enough.

When she got out of the car, Joe was standing in the doorway, and he opened his arms to her. If her dad had been home she would have gone to him, but Jecca’s father was nearly as good.

She’d cried hard for a while, then Joe had ordered in pizza and huge colas and enough cinnamon sticks to fatten half of Edilean. Kim had cried and eaten, then cried some more.

“I don’t understand why he lied to me,” she said.

“Borman or young Travis?” Joe asked.

“Travis,” Kim said. “Dave is . . . He’s a real person, so of course he lies.”

Joe raised his eyebrows but he didn’t comment on that statement. In dealing with his children of opposite sexes he’d learned a hard fact. If Joey came to him with a problem, he was asking for help to find a solution. But if Jecca had a problem, she just wanted Joe to listen. No advice. Whereas Joe had been free in telling Travis what he thought, Joe didn’t dare offer Kim so much as a suggestion.

“He lied to me about everything. From day one, I was completely honest with him, but he told me nothing but lies.”

Joe had to refrain from rolling his eyes. That’s pretty much exactly what Travis had said about Kim. He’d said she’d concealed the fact that she had a boyfriend and had glossed over a story about a missing ring. But Joe made no comment. His cell light went on again and the ID said it was Travis. At the ninth unanswered call, Joe excused himself and went outside.

Minutes later, he was back—and Kim was still ranting.

Joe wanted to help her but he didn’t know how. He’d talked to Travis and he was miserable. He said he just wanted to make sure Kim was all right. “She was so angry I was afraid for her to drive.”

“I guess that means you followed her,” Joe said. Travis’s silence was answer enough. “What have you done about this weekend?”

“Weekend?” Travis asked, sounding as though he hadn’t thought about it. “You mean Janes Creek?”

“Don’t dance around me, boy! What have you
done
?”

Cautiously, Travis told him of renting every room in the two inns in the little town.

Joe gave a low whistle. “Did your dad teach you to take over everybody’s life?”

“I think it’s more that I was born with it in me than that I learned it,” Travis said gloomily.

Joe almost laughed but didn’t. “I’ll get Kim to go to that town, but you have to take it from there. Think you can manage that?”

“But Kim said she never wants to see me again,” Travis said, his voice full of his despair.

Joe snorted in exasperation. “And that’s going to stop you? Haven’t you ever had a woman tell you to get lost?” To him it was a rhetorical question requiring no answer. Of course women had said that to Travis, to all men.

“No. Not actually,” Travis said. “Never.”

“What a world you live in!” Joe muttered, then said louder, “That’s because Kim sees
you
and not the Maxwell name. Try being yourself with her.”

“But . . .” Travis said, then trailed off. “Will you see that she gets home all right?”

“Of course,” Joe said and hung up. He took a deep breath, spent a few minutes looking at the stars and wishing he was snuggled up with Lucy, then went back into the shop. He was going to have to say the sentences that women so loved to hear. Every male chromosome in him fought against it, but he
had
to say them.

“Kimberly,” he said when he got inside, “I think you need to do something good for yourself. Take care of
you
. You should treat yourself to a weekend away. Get your nails done, buy yourself some new shoes.”

Joe stood there looking at Kim and wondering if she’d fall for it. Jecca would know he was up to something, but would Kim?

Instantly, some of the misery began to drain from Kim’s face. “I think you’re right,” she said. “I’m not going to cancel my reservation. I’m going to Janes Creek and spend the whole weekend thinking about my jewelry and my ancestors. No men anywhere.”

She went to Joe and kissed his cheek. “I understand why Jecca loves you so much.” She was smiling even though her eyes were still red. “Thanks for everything.”

She left by the front door and Joe sat down heavily in his big chair. When did he become the man who solved other people’s love problems? He couldn’t even solve his own.

In the next moment he picked up his phone and punched the button to reach Lucy.

“Where are you?” she asked. “I just got out of the tub and I have on my—”

“Lucy,” he said firmly before he lost his nerve, “I think it’s time you and I talked about your son. And your husband.”

She hesitated. “All right,” she said softly. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Joe let out his breath, and the tension left his big body. “What were you saying about what you have on?”

Kim did her
best to sleep that night, but too much was going around in her head. Her dreams were of Travis and in each one, he left. Just walked away as he’d done so many years before.

She got up at two, started to get some milk, but then poured herself a shot of single malt. She tried to watch a movie but couldn’t keep her mind on it. She told herself it was absurd to compare something a twelve-year-old boy did while hiding with his mother from an abusive father to the man he was now. And when it came down to it, Travis had the right to not tell anyone his last name. She’d never been around anyone who had to deal with paparazzi, so who was she to judge?

But no matter what her thoughts, or how rational she was, she still felt betrayed.

When she’d come back from Mr. Layton’s she’d seen that Travis had moved out of the guesthouse. He’d locked the door and left the key on her kitchen countertop.

She looked at the key but didn’t touch it. To touch it would make his leaving seem real.

She took a shower, washed her hair, and told herself that everything was for the better. Travis had found out what a snake Dave was; Kim had found out that Travis . . . She wasn’t sure what she’d discovered about him. Finding out that he was the son of some rich, powerful man hadn’t surprised her in the least.

At 4:00
A.M
. she went back to bed and slept until eight. She felt better when she woke up and knew that the last thing she wanted to do was go to work. For one thing, she couldn’t bear to see Carla. It was going to take a while before she could trust the woman again. Yesterday morning, Carla had confessed to what she’d done. In defending herself, she’d said that Dave had been so very persuasive as he talked about how much he loved Kim. And Carla had fallen for it. She’d taken the ring out of the display case and given it to him because he’d said he was going to present it to Kim on their weekend together. He’d elaborated on how there would be candlelight and he would be on one knee. Carla’s sense of romance had overwhelmed her.

It was Carla’s date with Russell Pendergast Wednesday night that had made her rethink what she’d done. He’d leaned across the table and looked at her with his beautiful dark eyes and coaxed the truth out of her. Afterward, he’d been clear that he didn’t think what she’d done was in the least romantic. In fact, he’d said that if she didn’t want to go to prison, she
had
to tell Kim the truth.

It had taken all her courage but Carla had told Kim the next morning.

At the time, Kim had been angry but it’s what she’d thought had happened—and why she hadn’t pursued the matter. At no time did Kim think Dave was scheming to steal the ring. Like Carla, she believed the man’s hints of marriage and a future together. Her problem had been how she was going to answer Dave’s proposal. Travis had shown strong signs of jealousy about Dave, so maybe Travis had plans for the two of them.

Kim hadn’t allowed herself to think of that. She’d reminded herself that Travis was as elusive as a nightingale, that he didn’t stay anywhere too long.

All that day she’d been nervous, and she’d kept wondering where Travis was and what he was doing. When there was no call from him at lunchtime, she wanted to go home early. Maybe Travis was doing laps in the pool. But customers kept her late, and as soon as she pulled into her driveway, Reede parked beside her. When she saw his face, she knew what was coming. He’d at last remembered where he’d seen Travis—on a racecourse when Travis had nearly hit Reede and his donkey.

As she walked to her front door, Kim thought about how she was going to defend Travis. She would point out that Reede had been in the way, that he shouldn’t have been standing in the roadway. Kim was totally on Travis’s side.

What she hadn’t expected was that Reede couldn’t care less about what had happened in Morocco. In fact, he admitted that the whole thing had been his fault. “That doesn’t matter,” Reede said, then proceeded to tell her the truth about Travis.

It didn’t matter to Kim whether Travis was rich or poor, but it did concern her that he’d not told her such fundamental information about himself.

Why? Did he think she couldn’t handle it? Did he think she was so provincial that she’d be overcome to find out he’d spent his life in a different circle than she had? Did he think the truth about himself would change what was between them?

She had no answers to her questions.

The scene with Reede had been bad enough, but then to walk into her kitchen and see Travis and Carla’s date standing there was almost more than she could bear. She could tell by Travis’s face, white with shock—and she had to admit some pain from what he’d heard—that if she didn’t get angry she would have died of embarrassment. She would just plain curl up into a ball and disappear.

Somehow she’d managed to keep cool enough to tell Travis what she thought of him. But when she began to remember how she’d told her brother that she wanted to spend days in bed with Travis, her anger was taken over by the embarrassment. She knew that if those two men stayed, she’d dissolve into tears in front of them, so she told them to leave. But she couldn’t bear to be alone, so she went to see Mr. Layton.

Now the morning light was coming through her kitchen window and she was doing her best to be cheerful about her coming weekend. Alone. She tried to think of those old axioms about bowls of cherries and lemonade, but she couldn’t seem to remember them. She’d already called Carla and told her she was to take care of the shop Friday and Saturday. There was another girl who could help, but Kim wouldn’t be there. Carla hadn’t argued or asked for overtime.

Kim packed quickly and was on the road by 10:00
A.M
. It was a four-hour drive to Janes Creek, and she used the time to try to think about her next series of jewelry designs. She needed something different, something a person didn’t see every day.

She also needed to think about the task Joce had given her to do. Everything she was to research was based on a few sentences that Colin’s wife, Gemma, had found in a letter written around the turn of the century.

“Please tell me you’re not trying to find more relatives,” Kim said to Joce and Gemma the day they’d asked her to take on the project. They looked at her as though to say yes, that is exactly what they wanted, and why didn’t she understand?

Kim had to remind herself that neither of the women had grown up in Edilean surrounded by what seemed to be thousands of relatives. Joce and Gemma had come from small families where they didn’t know their aunts and uncles, much less their fourth and fifth cousins. Between this lack and their shared love of history, the two women were fiendish at finding out everything about everyone—and as far back as they could go.

“Why me?” Kim had asked when she’d been invited to Joce’s house for lunch. She lived in the big old Edilean Manor, the place Kim had so hated as a child. Joce had done a lot with it, and it was beautiful now, but Kim wouldn’t have taken the house if it were given to her. She much preferred her one-story newer house with its big windows, and floors that didn’t creak with age.