Half Moon Hill: A Destiny Novel

by Toni Blake

  “I hope you don’t hate the blue,” Duke said. “I know we don’t have any blue in the house, but it just made sense with the moon and stars.”

  Anna stood there almost speechless, stunned and amazed by how gorgeous it was. But then she managed to find some words. “No. I—I love it. It’s perfect.”

  “Really? Are you sure? Because we could change it.”

  She turned to look at him on the porch. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t change anything about it. It’s amazing.”

  “Then hopefully that means you’ll like this, too.”

  And when he shifted his gaze back toward the door they’d just walked through, Anna did, as well—to see a smaller sign mounted next to the front door, with the same design and lettering: Half Moon Bed & Breakfast. And below that, in smaller print: Anna Romo, Proprietor.

  It was all she could do not to cry. Because this made it feel so real, and made her realize how far she’d come since buying the old house nearly a year ago. And how far she’d come, as well, since returning home to Destiny—a place that had felt so foreign to her then but came damn close to feeling like home now. And it also touched her more than she could measure to know Duke had done this for her. “I love it,” she said, then shifted her gaze to his. “Did you make these yourself?”

  He nodded, suddenly looking surprisingly boyish, shy.

  “I didn’t know you were artistic.”

  He gave his head a short, self-deprecating shake. “I’m not, really. Used to draw and paint a little when I was a kid, for my mom. But this is the first time I’ve done anything like this.”

  She was stunned to discover that such talents lay hidden inside him. But then, there was a lot more to Duke Dawson than met the eye, a lot more layers than he let most people see—and she felt almost honored that he’d chosen to share this one with her. “I love it,” she told him. “You have no idea how much.”

  And it struck her then that she’d have hated if he’d left and she’d never known about this. And it made her begin to wonder what else she would miss out on, what about him she would never know. And something in the thought combined with how moved she was by this gift from him, and she followed the impulse to lift her hands to his face and kiss him with all the love rushing through her veins.

  His arms curved around her, his strong hands warmed her back, and his tongue twined with hers, and Anna sank into it all the more deeply for knowing it might very well be the last kiss they shared. Whether because he left tonight without warning or simply because of the way she’d held back with him these last few days in an attempt at self-preservation. And she’d resume that behavior after this—because it was hard to let herself go with him, knowing it didn’t mean as much to him as it did to her—but right now, in this moment, she surrendered herself completely.

  When the kissing stopped a few minutes later, she could barely breathe. Still caught in his embrace, she peered into his eyes to whisper, “Thank you. For the signs.” And then she pulled away. Before she surrendered any more of herself. “I . . . have to go. I don’t want to be late.”

  He nodded in understanding and she rushed back into the house to grab her purse from the foyer table. She took a last look in the mirror and straightened her top. She saw that she’d apparently kissed off the lipstick she’d applied only a little while ago, but she could fix that later. She needed to go now—for more reasons than one.

  When she came back outside, Duke no longer stood on the porch and was, in fact, nowhere in sight. So she paused to look at the wonderful sign he’d hung next to the door, and as she went to the driveway, she actually walked past her car to study the bigger sign by the road. It was truly perfect—the perfect final touch—and it was hard to look at it without smiling.

  At the same time, though, she couldn’t help thinking it hinted at Duke’s departure in a real, solid way. And that his leaving felt so wrong, at least to her. And that maybe she’d be like Cathy and regret it forever if she didn’t do what Cathy said and take a chance.

  Because what if he felt the same way she did? Even if it didn’t appear that way, or seem likely at this point, what if he did deep down inside? What if he somehow felt the same way but they never told each other and they missed out on an absolutely amazing, ecstatically happy life together?

  And as she got in the Mustang and started the engine, she looked up to see Duke walk from the shady darkness of the open garage out into the sunlight just in front of her car. He lifted a hand to wave goodbye to her. Goodbye. What if it really was goodbye?

  “Duke,” she called. And as he walked over to her car door, she had no plan, but three words rang out inside her. Now or never.

  “Have a good time, Daisy,” he said easily.

  And she took a deep breath—and just started talking. “The reason I asked you to go with me tonight is because . . . I’d be proud to have all of Destiny see me on your arm. Because I’m in love with you. And I don’t want you to leave. Which I’m telling you in case that changes anything.

  “Because . . . deep down, I have to believe you care about me, in some way that matters. But that you’re just afraid. To trust in it, or to trust in me.

  “The thing is, though—it’s not easy for me, either, Duke. I lived with a woman who told me the biggest possible lie every day of my life for nearly twenty-five years. And yet, I’ve put myself out there with you, more than once, because even though I’m scared as hell to trust . . . I guess I think the risk is worth it. And even if this changes nothing . . . well, I still wanted you to know. That I love you like crazy.”

  And then she put the Mustang in reverse, backed out, and drove away, her heart in her throat.

  “You are frightened . . . but do you love me?”

  Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

  Twenty-five

  The area around the makeshift arena bustled with activity when Anna arrived. Trailers hooked to trucks carried in beat-up old cars with all the glass removed and numbers and sponsor names spray-painted on the sides. She also saw brightly painted riding lawn mowers, some of them looking like they’d been pieced together from a collection of spare parts, and learned—when she ran into Tessa amid all the action—that the first two heats of the derby would actually be lawn mowers instead of cars.

  “What?” she asked Tessa, fairly aghast at the absurdity.

  Tessa just shook her head and said, “You heard me right—a lawn mower demolition derby. Lucky even bought an old mower from Edna and fixed it up for Johnny to drive.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Don’t I wish. I have to say, this demo derby obsession has gotten a little out of hand in our house. I was half surprised he didn’t find a vehicle for the cat to drive.”

  She and Tessa had been walking as they talked, and now they approached a garish lime green car which Anna recognized as an old Buick Skylark. The number eleven was painted on each side in red, along with Lucky’s Custom Bike Painting, though done far more stylishly than on the other cars she’d seen—since her brother airbrush-painted motorcycles for a living. And he was bent over the open hood. “Nice numbering, but what’s with the lime green?” Anna asked.

  He looked up. “I got what was on sale,” he said, then dropped his head back down under the hood.

  That’s when Anna caught sight of the lime green lawn mower nearby—just before Johnny came running up, clearly excited about the night, and giving Anna a chance to greet her nephew and wish him luck.

  A few minutes later, as she and Tessa prepared to head to the bleachers, Anna waited while Tessa hugged and kissed Lucky goodbye. And she couldn’t help feeling a little wistful—in a way that bordered on envy—imagining her and Duke someday playing out this same scene.

  Only she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  She hadn’t given him much chance to reply to her declaration of love before leaving, but maybe it had been the look in his eyes. There had been something . . . sad there. And she wasn’t even sure what specifically he’d be
en sad about—because he felt sorry for her or because she was making his leaving more awkward?—but it didn’t really matter. All she knew was that it had left her certain that what she’d said didn’t make any difference, and that she’d put herself out there and taken a chance for nothing.

  It wasn’t nothing. He knows now he’s loved. That matters. And now you don’t have to be like Cathy and wonder “what if?” Now you know there’s nothing more you could have done to make him stay. That was something, at least. Even if it felt like cold comfort at the moment.

  As she and Tessa finally headed toward the bleachers, Tessa saw one of her interior design clients and said to Anna, “You go ahead and find Amy. I’ll catch up.”

  And a moment later she caught sight of Jeremy Sheridan standing next to another garishly painted vehicle—yellow and purple, and apparently sponsored by the local hair salon, the Snip and Clip—with a helmet in his hand. And she knew she could keep going—he hadn’t even spotted her—but she felt the need to make some amends with him, as well as close that particular door.

  “Don’t tell me you’re as crazy as my brother and driving in this thing, too?” she said, walking up.

  He looked over with a smile. “Sure am. And that goes both for the crazy part and the driving-in-this-thing part.”

  “Tessa didn’t mention it.”

  He raised his eyebrows conspiratorially. “Nobody knows. Just got a call a couple of hours ago from a high school buddy who was set to drive but broke his toe playing basketball this afternoon.”

  “Jeremy, I, uh . . .” She wasn’t any more prepared for this than she’d been for her declaration to Duke a little while ago, but she decided to just speak from the heart. “I wanted to apologize about the Fourth of July. I’m sorry if I left you hanging.”

  And as usual, Jeremy was easygoing. “No worries—there were plenty of friends there. But I was disappointed you weren’t one of them. And you can make it up to me some night soon,” he added with a wink. “What do you say? Dinner at Dolly’s, a cone from the Whippy Dip afterward? Only Destiny’s finest for any date of mine.”

  She had to laugh. And she couldn’t help thinking what a nice boyfriend he would be . . . if only she felt those feelings for him. “Thanks, and I wish I could, but . . . I’m kind of seeing somebody, and I just thought I should let you know.”

  Both of them kept smiling even as he said, “Well, damn—that’s definitely my loss.”

  And, of course, she knew Duke would be leaving soon—and in a way, she figured they were already as good as over—but she had a feeling her wildman in the woods would be on her mind, and in her heart, for a long time to come anyway.

  Rachel and Mike parted ways near one end of the arena—he planned to hang out with Logan, who was on duty tonight as one of several firemen on hand with a truck from the DFD in case any of the collisions caused a car to catch fire.

  And when Rachel saw Jenny and Sue Ann seated on the front row of the bleachers, she knew this was the chance she’d been waiting for ever since she and Mike had seen their baby on the ultrasound. Jenny looked happy at the moment, too, which could only help. Rachel slid happily into the vacant spot next to her, leaning playfully into her old friend. “Hey,” she said, offering a smile.

  Jenny looked up, smiling but clearly shocked by the greeting. “Hey,” she said in return.

  “Where’s Mick?” Rachel asked.

  “He’s driving one of the Dew Drop Inn cars for Anita.”

  “Ah,” Rachel replied, tipping her head back slightly. “I’d heard she was sponsoring two and driving one of them herself, but I didn’t know who was driving the other.” Though it made sense that it would be Mick, since Jenny’s dad had been dating Anita Garey for the last few years.

  “So . . .” Jenny began, still looking tentative, “you and I . . . does this mean we’re okay again?”

  “More than okay,” Rachel told her. “If you’ll forgive me for being so insensitive.”

  Jenny nodded, her pretty smile still in place. “I guess we both were. And I’m sorry for the things I said. You’re one of my best friends and that was awful of me.”

  Rachel wasn’t one for a lot of mushiness if it could be avoided, so she decided to move right on to what she’d really wanted to tell Jenny—or ask her. “Jen, I was wondering . . . if you’d be my baby’s godmother.”

  Jenny blinked, visibly taken aback. “But . . . what about Tessa or Amy?”

  “No one could ever love my baby as much as you would,” Rachel told her. And that was the truth. She knew Tessa and Amy would be crazy about her kid, but for Jenny it would be something deeper. “And I want it to be you. If you . . . well, if you don’t think it would . . . upset you. But if you’d rather not, that’s okay. I just—”

  “It wouldn’t upset me,” Jenny interrupted her. “I would love it! And I’d be honored.”

  Rachel let her own smile widen as a sense of relief came over her. “That’s great,” she told Jenny, giving her a hug. Then she rushed ahead, eager to tell Jenny more. “We saw the ultrasound and . . . it just changed everything. And I totally realize how lucky I am. I’m still scared to death, but now in a much happier way.”

  As the conversation went on, she could tell Jenny was truly happy for her now, too—and she promised to show her the pictures from the ultrasound soon, and before she knew it, they were talking about baby showers and bassinets.

  The whole time, though, she couldn’t help thinking that Jenny seemed a little too chipper under the circumstances—even given that they’d just made up. And when Rachel tentatively asked how she and Mick were doing, Jenny bit her lip, looked conspiratorially back and forth between Rachel and Sue Ann, then said, “Well, I wasn’t going to tell anybody yet, because Mick doesn’t even know, but . . .” And then she opened her purse and pulled out a pregnancy test stick—showing a positive result!

  Rachel gasped as Sue Ann whispered, “Holy Mother of God.”

  And then the three of them broke into laughter and hugs—until Rachel spied Caroline Meeks and Dan Lindley, both having clearly noticed their behavior. “Be cool, be cool,” Sue Ann said. “Act natural or we’ll give ourselves away.”

  “If anyone asks,” Rachel pointed out, “we can just say it’s about me—that I’ve finally come to my senses about motherhood.” But she couldn’t help giving Jenny another big smile. “Oh my God—I’m so happy for you, Jen!”

  “Me too,” she said, looking downright giddy now. After which Jenny pointed out that their babies would grow up together, and Rachel said they’d probably be best friends, and they both agreed how incredible it was all going to be.

  “I don’t mean to start being the insensitive one,” Sue Ann cut in to say then, “but if you two are done jabbering, they’re about to start announcing the lawn mower drivers, and I don’t want to miss Adam’s name.”

  Rachel scrunched up her nose in surprise. “Adam’s in the lawn mower derby?”

  “It was my idea,” Sue Ann said defensively. “Since he runs a landscaping business, he has a whole fleet of old, worn-out mowers. He can do this every year and I won’t have to worry about him driving a car in the real derby.” Then she cringed slightly, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t. “Though I’m sure it’s perfectly safe. I’m sure Mick and Lucky and everyone else driving in it will be just fine.”

  “Well,” Rachel said, shifting her attention back to Jenny, “I’m glad we’re just fine again.”

  “Now here come the contestants in the Youth Mower Division.” The voice of the older man speaking through the microphone came with a distinct country twang. “Young Johnny Romo’s drivin’ into the arena, and would ya look at that there mower—you can bet his daddy painted that up for him real nice. Gonna be a shame to bang that one up.”

  Anna sat watching as the event progressed—six mowers that mainly drove in circles around each other, occasionally smashing into each other—and cheering on her nephew with the rest of the crowd. And when Johnny actually won, T
essa went wild.

  The Adult Mower Division heat began after that, and Anna made sure to cheer for Sue Ann’s boyfriend, Adam, too. Unfortunately, his mower stalled after just a few minutes, and someone in the stands yelled out, “Don’t be bringin’ that one to mow my yard next week, Becker!” and everyone shared a laugh.

  Following the mowers came a mini-car heat, including the owner of the Dew Drop Inn, Anita Garey, driving a pink Honda Civic. Anna loved Anita’s confidence and the whole way she faced life, so she cheered the hardest of all for her.

  Throughout it all, though, even as the air filled with dirt and smoke, and the roar of loud engines blared in her ears, she still kept thinking of Duke, wondering where he was right now, if he was packing up his few belongings, if she’d go home and find a quiet, empty house for good this time. Even if she tried her hardest to keep her focus on where she was and the fun friends she was with. I’ll still have all this when he’s gone. It won’t be the end of the world. It would just feel that way.

  Anita was the second runner-up in her heat, and as a forklift and a tow truck worked to clear the muddy arena of disabled cars that had been beaten into unrecognizable shapes, the announcer hawked concessions over the loudspeaker. “It’s gonna take a little while to get these crushed cars outta the way, folks, so ya got lotsa time to come on down to the concession stand. Get your burger, get your fry, get your apple pie—we got it all for ya down here. And for those of ya wonderin’—yes indeed, Edna made the pie and she’s down here sellin’ it herself, so come say hi and getcha some pie.”

  But Anna couldn’t think about pie, even pie as good as Edna’s. Instead, it only made her think about blackberries and the afternoon she’d run into a wildman.