Moon Dance

by Mariah Stewart

  "And a little chocolate every now and again," Georgia said as she removed the gold foil box from the glove compartment.

  "Well, of course. What is life without a truffle now and then?" Delia winked, put the car back into gear and pulled back onto the highway. "Open the box, if you would, and let's see what we have to celebrate with…"

  Mother and daughter were still laughing and chatting when they reached the drive at Pumpkin Hill.

  "Oh, Mom, is that Gordon there with Matt?" Georgia peered through the front window of the sedan.

  "Yes. He thought he'd meet me here so that I wouldn't have to drive to the inn alone. We thought we'd stay with Laura for a few days and make sure that all is well with her."

  Georgia frowned. "What are they doing at the chicken house?"

  "Oh? Is that what that is?" Delia turned off the engine and removed the keys. "It's big for a chicken house, wouldn't you say?"

  "I think Matt said that, at one time, they raised chickens commercially here." Georgia's feet couldn't carry her fast enough. She called to Matt, and he crossed the distance between them in three quick strides. He lifted her off the ground and swung her around, kissing her deeply before setting her onto her feet on the uneven ground.

  "Hello, Gordon," she smiled. "I heard all about your trip. It sounded wonderful."

  "It was wonderful. Best trip I ever took. Best vacation I ever had."

  "So I heard."

  "And I heard your news," Delia hugged Matt. "I couldn't be happier. Gordon, have you met my future son-in-law?"

  "Yes," Gordon chuckled. "We were just discussing some of Matt's plans."

  "Oh, you mean for the veterinary clinic?" Georgia asked.

  "Among other things." Gordon nodded.

  "What other things?" Georgia turned to Matt.

  He scratched his chin, as if deciding whether or not to tell her.

  "What other things?" she repeated.

  "Well, you know that I had a long talk with the architect two weeks ago."

  "Yes. He was going to send his contractor over."

  "Oh, he did that. Actually, he's been back several times. We went over the barn six ways from Sunday, but neither of them feel it's a good building to retrofit into a commercial building."

  "Why?"

  "For one thing, it's too big to be cost effective, in terms of heat and air conditioning, plumbing. There's no insulation and it would cost an absolute fortune to do everything that would need to be done."

  "Oh, Matt, I'm so sorry. I know how you counted on that…"

  "It's okay. We came up with the perfect solution."

  "The chicken house?"

  "Nope. The smaller of the two barns." Matt pointed to his right. "Not only is it less space, so it will be less expensive to convert, but the construction is different, it already has running water, and the roof is newer. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. The architect has come up with plans that are just perfect. I can't wait to show you."

  "That's wonderful! When can you start?"

  "The loan has gone through, and the contractor has me on his schedule for the first week of July."

  "Really? That soon? That's incredible! How long do they think it will take?"

  "Maybe six weeks, if all goes well."

  "You'll be able to hang out your shingle by the fall!"

  "Before the fall. And I already have the shingle."

  "You had your sign made up? Oh, show me!" Georgia's eyes were shining, reflecting her pleasure that his dream was, at long last, coming true. If her own dream had to wait a bit, that would be all right. Matt had waited a lifetime to start his own practice, to make his home here at Pumpkin Hill. She could wait a little longer for hers.

  "Gordon, can you give me a hand here?" Matt lifted one end of the large wooden sign, and with Gordon's help, he stood it on end. "This will go right there at the foot of the drive, on the left side." He told her, watching her face as she read the deeply carved words, the grooves painted in gold on a dark green background.

  "PUMPKIN HILL VETERINARY CLINIC MATTHEW T. BISHOP, DVM." Georgia read aloud, smiling. She paused then, reading the rest of the script silently, then, it appeared that she read it again.

  "BALLET IN THE BARN… AT PUMPKIN HILL. GEORGIA ENRIGHT, INSTRUCTOR," she whispered.

  "Well, technically, it's not the barn, but somehow, Ballet in the Chicken House just doesn't seem to have the same ring." Matt deadpanned.

  The expression on Georgia's face never changed. Her eyes were wide with surprise, her mouth moving, but no words came out.

  "Now, this is, hands down, the best building on the property for what you will be doing. The contractor said it will be relatively easy to put in heat and air conditioning. He's going to use a heat pump, which will supply both," Matt continued, taking her arm and walking her around the side of the old building. "I asked Lee to stop out and take a look, and he talked to the architect and told them what you needed as far as the interior is concerned. It's not too late to make changes, if you want, but I think you'll like what we've come up with."

  "You called Lee?"

  "Yes. He was very gracious. He'll be out to see you next week, by the way. Said he was upset that he hadn't been able to warn you about the fire." Matt paused, then asked, "Does he think he's psychic or something?"

  "He is." Georgia nodded.

  "Well, he needs to talk to you about that. Anyway, he knew exactly where to get all the specialty things, like the floor."

  "You bought me a floor?" She grabbed his arms. "Tell me."

  "Well, it's being custom made by a company in Philadelphia…"

  "Custom made?" She looked as if she was about to swoon. "Is it wooden? To fit over the concrete floor?"

  "Yes," he nodded proudly.

  "Slip resistant?" She had him by the collar, turning t his head to hers. "Shock absorbent?"

  "That's the one…"

  "Delia, what do you say we head on back to the inn?" Gordon slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  "Oh, but I want to see…" she started toward Georgia.

  "Perhaps later," he said softly. "I think this one's on Matt…"

  "Oh, you're right, of course." Delia nodded. "Let's just slip away. We'll call them in the morning. Matt and I need to talk. It seems to have been a very short six months."

  "Six months?" Gordon frowned. "Six months since when?"

  "Since Matt decided that perhaps we Enrights weren't so bad, after all." She tucked an arm around his waist and said, "I'll tell you all about it on our way back to the inn. Perhaps we'll get there in time to watch the sun set over the bay, just the two of us."

  "…two dressing rooms, a small office," Matt was saying as he led Georgia through the side door, "and a sliding wall—sort of like a big pocket door—so that you can have two separate studios if you find you need them. And skylights. I know how much you love light."

  "This is incredible! It's wonderful! Oh, Matt…" She wandered, bright-eyed, around the room, envisioning the space as Matt described it. "It's just what I would have done. I can't believe you and Lee came up with all this. How soon…?"

  "The contractor will start to work on it as soon as the clinic is ready. I decided to do that first, because Doc Espey will be wanting to move the equipment out by the end of July. I figure your studio should be ready to open by mid to late September."

  "Oh, Matt, it's so perfect. I can't wait to dance here." She gazed around the room again, as if unable to believe it. "It's the most wonderful gift in the world. The most thoughtful, loving gift…"

  She went to him and put her arms around him, melting into him like a late spring snow.

  "It's all so right, isn't it? You and me, and this place… it was all meant to be." She whispered.

  "Somehow, it almost seems so," he agreed.

  "Must have been the dandelion wishes," she told him, remembering the wish she had sent him that cold rainy morning just a few months ago.

  "What was that?"

  "Oh, maybe I
'll tell you about it someday," she looped her arm through his. "Let's just say it's one of the secrets I learned from your Aunt Hope. Did I ever tell you, for example, what happens when you combine violets with lavender and leave them under someone's pillow?"

  "Umm, I don't think so…"

  "Oh, it's said to be a potent spell."

  "Really? What does it do?"

  "It's supposedly a powerful stimulant."

  "A stimulant? You mean, like a love potion…"

  "Actually, it's called a charm."

  "I see. And have you been slipping your charms under my pillow?"

  Georgia merely grinned and tugged Matt's arm, drawing him in the direction of the house. After all, there were some secrets she wasn't sure that Hope had intended her to share…

  epilogue

  The Bishop's Inn bustled with guests, the joy of the occasion and laughter. Delia paused in the doorway and beamed. Across the room, eager hands reached for the darling baby boy who had only so recently joined her growing family.

  Robert Devlin Enright—Devlin, Nick and India had decided to call him—was as dark as his father, as beautiful as his mother, and a delight to all his loving aunts and uncles and cousins.

  Could anything be sweeter than welcoming the next generation, Delia wondered.

  A handsome, deeply tanned man with a rakish grin and a jaunty air entered the room through French doors, a stunning young woman on his arm.

  Ah, that must be Rachel, his daughter. How interesting that she has chosen to follow in her father's footsteps…

  His eyes scanned the crowd until he found Delia. He walked toward her, stopping to shake this one's hand or bestow a kiss on that one's pretty young cheek. Delia didn't mind. The pretty young cheeks belonged to her daughters, all of whom had come to adore Gordon, much as Delia herself had done.

  And who could have guessed that life would hold such astonishing surprises?

  As Gordon turned to introduce his daughter to August Devlin and her sea captain, Zoey and Georgia resumed their heated discussion. Plans, no doubt, for the wedding yet to come.

  If those two manage to compromise enough to share a wedding day, I will eat my hat. The big one, with all the feathers on it.

  While her daughters still insisted that a double wedding it would be, Delia had her doubts. The two had not managed to agree on a single thing. While Zoey envisioned a Christmas wedding with attendants in vivid red velvet, Georgia had her heart set on soft Victorian pastels. Zoey wanted a church draped in white roses and exotic white orchids, while Georgia dreamed of masses of cottage garden blooms. To further complicate matters, both wanted India and Laura in their weddings.

  Separate weddings might go a long way to keeping peace in the family, Delia mused.

  "Gramma, would you like a…" Ally took a close look at the tray of hors d'ouevres she was serving, trying to recall exactly what is was she was offering. "…a little fish thing?"

  "Why, I'd love a little fish thing, sweetheart." Delia touched Ally's cheek fondly, then leaned slightly over the tray. "Now, are these little pink things salmon, do you suppose?"

  "Yes. That's it," Ally nodded, then grinned. She had lost one of her top teeth the previous week and her gap-toothed smile tickled Delia's heart. "I guess salmon sounds better than little fish thing…"

  "Little fish thing works fine for me, sweetie. Now, be a darling and see if your Uncle Nick would find a glass of champagne for me."

  Ally took off to locate Nick, who was at that moment passing out cigars.

  So much worth celebrating, Delia shook her head almost imperceptibly, all but overwhelmed at how much she had to be thankful for.

  Jody appeared in the kitchen doorway and motioned for Corri Devlin to take yet another silver tray of goodies and offer them to their guests. Delia could not fail to notice that the eyes of one tall, strapping private investigator never left the pretty chef, who, for the first time that Delia could remember, had worn a dress. One that showed a little bit of curve, and a great deal of skin.

  My, my, Delia grinned. One might expect a private investigator to be slightly more discreet. You, my dear Jeremy, are very obviously and visibly falling flat on your face. Though Jody doesn't seem to be aware of it. You're a good man, Jeremy Noble, but you work far too hard. As does Jody, now that I think about it. I can't remember ever having been here at the inn when Jody wasn't busy in the kitchen. Well, perhaps you'll both slow down long enough to find each other.

  Laura, in a pale blue summer dress that draped easily around her body and flowed gently to the floor—what Corri had called a "floaty dress"—bent her head slightly to one side as August's Captain Pete related some story or other. The young woman laughed, and the sound of it soothed Delia's worried mother's heart. Laura had had such a fiercely bad time of it, these past few months, seeming intent upon doing penance for sins she had not committed. And there, off to the side, chatting with Ben, as if waiting patiently, stood Tucker Moreland, who had already begun the long process of helping Laura to put the past behind her. It would be Tucker who would help Laura take those first awkward steps toward the rest of her life, Tucker whose love would heal her and bring joy into her life.

  And you, Matthew, Delia beamed as her future son-in-law cradled Devlin in his arms. What a full circle you've come, my boy…

  "There's a rumor going around that you were looking for some champagne." Gordon appeared at her side and handed her a delicate fluted glass glowing with pale gold bubbly.

  "Why, thank you, darling. Where is Rachel? I'm dying to meet her."

  "She's talking sharks with Captain Pete. She'll be over in a minute."

  "Silly of me, but I'm nervous about meeting her."

  "Don't be. She'll adore you. She said she's waited years for her father to find the right woman, and she's delighted that finally, I have."

  "Thank you, Gordon."

  "For what?"

  "For always knowing the right thing to say." Delia drew him to her with her eyes, those same clear sapphire blues she had passed on to her two oldest daughters. She nuzzled the side of his face and sighed, grateful for his presence in her life. She said, "I was thinking it might be a good time to make a toast to officially welcome our precious Devlin."

  "But first, I have one." He leaned closely and whispered for only her to hear, "To the remarkable woman who has shown me that it's never too late to find love. To the glorious surprise of having found her."

  Delia smiled and touched the tip of her glass to his. "And to all those glorious surprises yet to come… for all of us."

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