Blue Moon Enchantment (Once In A Blue Moon Series)

by Jeanne Van Arsdall

  “You said you’re leaving tomorrow. Why so soon?”

  “Why did you say that?” Callie asked.

  “I don’t know. Returning after so many years, I’d think you’d want to reacquaint yourself with the town. See people you haven’t seen—”

  “No, not that. In your toast...why did you say you hoped I’d find what I came for?”

  “When you yelled at the moon I caught in your voice a quiet desperation. As though the blue moon could reach down and bestow wishes. I was getting ready to leave when you arrived and I detected a sad heaviness in your spirit. And I now see a yearning in your eyes,” he said gently.

  “I didn’t realize those things could be projected.” Although skeptical, she didn’t want to be unbelieving. But what could explain how he’d read her so well?

  “Only you and God know if the things I perceived are real or not. If they are, even though we just met, please know I’ll help in any way I can.”

  They finished their drinks and Jacob paid the check. “Are you staying close by or at one of the motels on the outskirts of town?”

  “Actually, I’m at Tyndall’s Bed & Breakfast. So much has changed. I mean, it’s hard to reconcile the town I grew up in has a B&B,” she said as they exited the restaurant.

  “It’s even changed a lot since I arrived. Tourism has boomed since the Civil War history buffs focused on the town. Though it’s only two blocks, I’d be happy to give you a lift.”

  “No thanks. I think I’d just like to walk.” She extended her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you and thanks again for the wine. It topped the evening off.”

  ***

  Jacob watched her stroll away. Wow! Be still my heart. So work oriented over the years, he’d arrived at the ripe age of thirty-two without a hint of female companionship he’d always believed God would send.

  He’d dated here and there...and been told on many occasions of his ‘most desired bachelor’ status. However eligible he might’ve been perceived, somehow his heart hadn’t responded like he thought it should have. In the space of the last three hours, however, that had completely changed. Calli Winson, I sure pray you don’t leave tomorrow.

  ***

  The sun beaming through the open curtains awoke Calli. Exhausted when she’d arrived at the B&B last night, she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth before climbing into the big four-poster—literally climbed. The bedroom reminded her of something straight out of a historical tale. Everything looked ancient, especially the antique dresser with a washbasin and pitcher.

  She leaned up on one elbow and peered out the window. The mountains rose majestically in the distance. It augured a perfectly clear day; one where she could stand at the peak of her favorite mountain and almost see tomorrow. But, the future wasn’t her objective. She was searching for yesterday. What a contradiction, she thought—at work, I’m adept at reconstructing other civilizations; in my own life I’m an abysmal failure at doing so.

  Sliding off the bed, she padded into the bathroom and stared in the mirror. Now girl, you have got to be honest with yourself. You didn’t just hop into bed last night and go to sleep. And your thoughts weren’t on getting up today and heading for the train station. Nor were they on finding out about your past. They were on the young preacher man.

  While not the most handsome man she’d ever seen, Jacob Isaacs had rugged good looks. Surprisingly physically fit for a preacher, which occupation didn’t fit with his calloused hands. Wonder why he isn’t married with several kids? Well, stupid me. Maybe he is. We never talked about his family. She’d just assumed! What was the saying one of her professors had? Oh yeah! Never assume, or you could make an ‘ass’ of ‘u’ and ‘me.’ Inquire if you want to know for certain. Hmm...she’d best keep it in mind.

  ***

  Calli ate breakfast in the dining room. “I’ll be back for my things shortly,” she told the owner. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Mrs. Tyndall called after her. “Whatever time you check out is fine, dear. There’s no hurry since I don’t have other guests arriving until the weekend.”

  Dressed in red linen cropped pants and a white, Tommy Hilfiger cotton tee, she headed toward the center of town. The train didn’t leave until two.

  A half hour later she swung around a corner on the fringe of the main drag and pulled up short. Across the street a large sign read: ‘Allenvale Community Christian Church.’ Next to the old, antebellum chapel, new construction was rising. Hammering emanated from within.

  She crossed the street and approached the new building—triple the size of the old church. She walked up steps, which appeared recently poured, and headed toward the source of the noise. Wandering through several rooms she came to the main church area. Jacob stood upon a ladder almost twenty feet in the air, pounding nails into crossbeams. So, this was the origin of his physique. He had on jeans and a tee shirt. Even from the distant vantage point, she saw the well-toned biceps. Her heart skipped several beats as she watched him wield the hammer.

  She’d never been attracted to any lone aspect of a person—although she appreciated solitary attributes. But Jacob was one well-rounded individual: intelligent, sensitive, and physically attractive. No single man had ever appealed to her on such a scale.

  “Hey,” she yelled, not wanting to startle him. He hadn’t heard her. She walked to the far side of the ladder and jumped up and down waving her arms.

  ***

  Jacob couldn’t get the pretty blonde with the beautiful eyes off his mind. He’d tossed during the night, a rare event. Usually when he hit the sack it was lights out. He seldom remembered dreaming.

  Last night was a different story. Every few hours he’d awakened, Calli’s image before him. He wanted to erase the sadness from those intense, blue eyes. Normally, he didn’t hesitate to tell someone about the Lord. In her case, however, he sensed she’d think he was spouting platitudes. He’d seek a different way to approach her—and had no doubt he’d see her again.

  Something caught his eye and he glanced down. Calli was a few feet away from the bottom of the ladder acting like the donkey in ‘Shrek.’ He broke out in laughter and had to grab the ladder to keep from toppling backward. Scrambling down he skipped the last few rungs and jumped in front of her.

  “Hello.” He grinned from ear to ear and wiped his face with a red and white handkerchief pulled from a rear pocket. “I figured you’d be on your way back to the big city by now. But I’m glad you aren’t.”

  “Well, my train doesn’t leave until two. I wanted to take a walk around town and see the changes.” She sauntered around the huge room, gazing at the newly finished work. “Who helps you with the building?”

  He laughed. “Mostly my ineptitude. Church members pitch in when they can, usually on weekends.” He glanced around. “Today there are two other guys working here somewhere.” He didn’t see his friends. “They must be taking a break or something.”

  “It’s quite an undertaking to do this mostly by yourself.”

  “You want some coffee, or tea? Or maybe a soda?” he asked, wiping his face again.

  “Sure. I could use something cold, thanks,” Calli quickly accepted.

  “Follow me.” Jacob walked in the direction of the back of the new construction. He nimbly vaulted off the end of a concreted area about five feet to the ground, then turned and reached up to assist Calli. She sat on the edge and slid down into his opened arms. He held onto her long after she’d steadied from the jump.

  Hitting the ground, a jolt shot through her; however, it wasn’t from the impact of the earth beneath her feet. In fact, she barely knew she’d touched dirt. Falling into Jacob’s arms rendered an electrical shock similar to one she’d received when a coworker who’d bought a home defibrillator for his mother wanted her to touch it to see what it felt like. One of the few unwise things she’d ever done. Come to think of it, it was called ‘Heart Start’—a relevant term for what had just happened.

  He released her, grabbed her hand
and started across the lawn, pulling her along. She matched his stride. He ran into the rear entrance of the house adjacent to the church property. She recalled this had been an empty lot.

  Jacob entered a kitchen and closed the door behind him. Then he turned and pulled her toward him. With one arm wrapped around her, he peered into her eyes. He tenderly caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  She involuntarily quivered and closed her eyes. A feathery sensation coursed through her as though she’d been brushed by angel wings.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Calli Winson,” he uttered in a deep, throaty whisper. “Although that’s not the only reason I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.”

  Calli’s heart sang. He thought about me last night. If he were to let go, she’d sink to the floor. Words wouldn’t form in her mouth because she was unable to part her lips. That is, until Jacob’s lips parted them for her. It was the gentlest way she’d ever been kissed, and simultaneously earthshaking. She reached her arms up around him and held him tighter, moving into his hard, muscled body.

  Reluctantly, Jacob relinquished her lips. “Lord, if I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me.”

  Still atingle, Calli responded, “Me neither.”

  Jacob released her and she grabbed the counter to steady herself. He stepped to the refrigerator and pulled out a container. “Oh, I forgot...we also have fresh lemonade.” He held it up for her approval. “Squeezed this morning,” he coaxed. When she nodded, he put ice in two glasses and poured the opaque liquid, little bits of lemon sticking to the cubes as they floated to the top. He placed them on a bistro table in the corner and swept his arm toward one of the stools for her to take a seat. Sitting across from her, he took one of her hands in his.

  “Calli, I think I’d better tell you...”

  She abruptly pulled her hand away and sat straight. “Oh great! You’re married!”

  ***

  Unable to control the laughter that bubbled, he let it rip. “God, no!”

  “You have something against marriage?” Calli retorted.

  “No, Calli. Wait. We’re getting on a wrong track here. What I want to say is no woman has ever affected me the way you have. I don’t go around grabbing women and laying a kiss on them. Far from it. And, yes, I believe wholeheartedly in marriage. Until death do us part—the whole nine yards.”

  “So, why haven’t you ever married? How old are you, thirty-five?”

  “No. I’m thirty-two,” Jacob replied, uncertain why she was being so defensive. “And I just haven’t met the right woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

  “Oh.” She placed an elbow on the table, picked up the glass and took a big swallow of the cold liquid. She slipped off the stool. “Well, I’d better be heading out if I’m going to catch my train. Thanks for the lemonade,” she said stiffly.

  Jacob was off his stool in a flash. “Hey, what happened? Why did you pull away from me?”

  ***

  She turned her back to him, tears welling in her eyes. She had no answer to either question. It’s how she reacted to anyone who tried to get close, and it didn’t matter how she examined it, she couldn’t figure it out.

  Gently, Jacob placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Why did you come to see me, Calli?”

  “There’s something I want to explain. I don’t know why...I just feel the need for you to understand me.”

  “Please sit. Tell me what’s on your heart.”

  His words penetrated to her innermost being. No one had ever shown a desire to know those secret places she guarded with such ferocity. Her parents had, of course; but by the time she was busting out of her teenage rebellious years, they were gone. How she missed them. She feared they never really knew how much she loved them.

  “You asked why I didn’t stay here, the place where I was raised, longer than a day. My memories here aren’t happy ones.”

  Jacob leaned back in the stool, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “I didn’t find this out until I was seven. The kids at school seemed to take great delight in calling me names. They’d tell me I was dirty and other things I won’t repeat. Yet, I’d look in the mirror and see blonde hair neatly cut, my body and clothes clean. Mom always dressed me well. So what made me different from them? Then I looked closer at the other children’s parents and noticed the resemblances—a little boy would favor his dad, a girl her mother, or maybe a little of both. I looked nothing like my parents. I came home one day crying and Mom took me in her arms and asked what was wrong.”

  Calli stopped talking, left her seat and refilled her lemonade. After taking a long drink, it calmed the choking sob threatening to escape.

  “‘Why do I look so different from you and Daddy?’ I cried. Thinking back on it now, I would do anything to retract those words. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, my mom was a deeply compassionate person. She said to me, ‘Calli, sweetheart, when people make fun and belittle others, it’s usually to mask their own fears.’ Then she hugged me and said we’d talk about it when Daddy got home.”

  Although Calli was sitting directly in front of Jacob, staring into his eyes, she’d stepped from the present into the past.

  “When Daddy arrived from work, we sat in the living room. I was on Daddy’s lap, Mom cuddled beside us. Then they told me how someone had left me at the IGA store in a basket. The police never found out who. Mom had been leaving the store after buying groceries. She said, ‘I almost tripped over you, all snuggled down into a wicker basket. I looked up and down the street—no one was around. It was early in the morning and my car was the only one in the lot, except for the IGA employees. I sat my bags down and picked you up and went inside. The manager called the police. Your daddy and I volunteered to keep you until your parents were located. Needless to say, they never were. And by then we’d become attached to you. No, we’d fallen in love with you.’ I knew they loved me. They were wonderful—I couldn’t have asked for better parents. From then on though, I couldn’t get over my biological parents having abandoned me. And Mom said the only clue inside the basket was a note with the word Calliope, printed in block letters—”

  “Did you say Calliope?” Jacob asked, suddenly leaning forward in his chair.

  “Yes. They thought it must have been my name and it’s what they called me. One of the nine Muses is called Calliope and there’s the local music referred to as Calliope. So, I’ve always wondered about my name.”

  “You said your parents were killed in an auto accident?”

  Calli nodded. “Yeah. It was right before I turned eighteen, a week after I graduated high school. A logging truck had been on the highway and for some reason lost control and hit them head on. They were gone instantly. The logger flipped his eighteen-wheeler and was pinned in. They had to dig him out and he lost one of his legs in the process. He was never the same and not just because he was an amputee. During the investigation he was so pitiful. He told me, more than once, he wished he’d died instead of my parents. I didn’t stay around long afterward. I moved, worked my way through college and stayed away from the things that had hurt me. But they still haunt me.”

  “I know the cemeteries around here fairly well, Calli. I don’t recall any Winson’s buried in any of them.”

  Calli walked to the door and twisted the knob. She turned to face him. “No, Jacob. It’s because their names are Sara and Andrew Windsong; they’re Native Americans.” She slowly exited and quietly pulled the door closed.

  ***

  Jacob wanted to run after her and ask why she’d changed her name. But it was unnecessary. He’d known too many people who’d tried to escape their past. Thank God Calli hadn’t turned to alcohol, or drugs, or some other form of self-flagellation.

  Cranking the Cherokee, Jacob immediately drove to the post office. “Is Marilyn here?” he asked Hank, the postal employee at the window.

  “Yeah, Jacob. Wait a sec.”
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  Marilyn Potts had been the Postmistress for the past five years. She’d arrived shortly after Jacob had moved to Allenvale and they’d become close friends. Her husband, whom she’d been married to for twenty-five years, had died a decade ago.

  “Hiya, Jacob,” her bubbly voice called as she rounded the corner. “What can I do for you?”

  “Can we go into your office and talk?”

  “Sure thing.” She turned and flagged him her way.

  He followed, closing the door behind him. “Marilyn, remember the letter you got from Pittsburgh several years ago? The one addressed to the Allenvale Postmaster and you said others had arrived previously simply addressed ‘Calliope.’”

  “Yeah, I sure do. Don’t hardly forget something like that. Why? What’s this about?”

  “Bear with me a few minutes. Do you still have them?”

  “Yep. You sit right there. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Re-entering the office, she said, “Here they are.” She handed several envelopes to Jacob.

  “It’s okay if I look at them?”

  “Definitely. I’ve already told you about them and they’re just dead letters at this point.”

  He removed the one on top—the one he was most interested in. Postmarked December, 2001, it was addressed in beautiful penmanship to: Postmaster, c/o Allenvale Post Office, Allenvale, Pennsylvania with the zip code. He glanced at Marilyn and turned the envelope over, removing the single sheet of paper. In the same handwriting was written:

  Dear Postmaster,

  I know this is a strange letter you’re receiving. It’s equally strange for me to be writing it. Approximately 25 years ago a baby was left in your town in a basket. I learned about what I’m going to relate approximately three years ago. I’ve sent several letters, hoping in a town as small as yours they’d find their way to the person to whom they were intended. Evidently they didn’t. Now I’m writing to you, personally, in hope of discovering the whereabouts of my twin sister, Calliope Denton.

  As I said, I only became privy to this information three years ago when I was located by my maternal aunt. I also had been left in a basket here in Pittsburgh, obviously a much larger city. Not that there’s a good side to babies being left in baskets, but my being in Pittsburgh, where there are adoption records, led to my aunt being able to locate me.