Moonfall

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Moonfall Page 1

by Ines Johnson




  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  About the Author

  Moonfall

  Ines Johnson

  Copyright © 2018, Ines Johnson. All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

  Cover design by Yocla Designs

  Edited by Alyssa Breck

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition January 2018

  Chapter One

  Rhetta picked up the saltshaker and wiped off the top. It bothered her that some of the crystals that had been exposed to the antiseptics and other various germs in the air fell back into the container. However, she knew she wasn’t going to add any salt to her meal. She pushed the condiment to the side to ensure that her companion wouldn’t either.

  She picked up the peppershaker. It too had residue clinging to the holes at its top. She shoved it to the side as well.

  Next in her line of sight were the napkins. The fold on her napkin was off. It was folded by the width, instead of the length. Everyone knew napkins were to be folded by the long side to allow for any residue to have a faster route to the seam. Honestly, did the staff of this establishment have no training?

  Rhetta looked around the restaurant, wondering who was on duty tonight. Though this was one of her favorite restaurants, the service was not consistent. She knew if Sarah was working that everything would be in order. The condiment and napkin debacle told her that it had to be the woman’s night off. It was likely Lance who was in charge tonight.

  From her spot in the corner of the restaurant, she spied Lance’s curly head bent over a table listening to another group of guests. His charming smile belied his lazy fingers. He scratched at his scalp and then proceeded to refill the diners’ water glasses with the flakes from his hair potentially falling into each person’s tumbler.

  Rhetta grasped her stomach and turned away from the scene. She picked up her napkin and refolded the creases in the appropriate place. Then she picked up her companion’s linens and began the same process with his.

  “Rhetta?” said Jordan.

  Rhetta looked up into Jordan’s dark eyes. The light from the chandelier reflected off his glasses. He was being more fidgety than normal tonight.

  She also noted that his hair had grown long. She needed to make sure to schedule an appointment with him at the barbershop. She’d be sure to check and see if Mel was on duty this Saturday. He cut Jordan’s hair the way she liked it.

  “Rhetta,” Jordan began again. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  “Yes, Jordan?” Rhetta reached over and grabbed his fork. The tines were a hazy gray. She couldn’t see a shine on them. Lance was not getting any gratitude or gratuity tonight.

  Rhetta looked up when she noted Jordan’s silence. He watched her scrub the silverware. His teeth toyed with his bottom lip, as though it was unsure whether to let the words out.

  Rhetta set his silverware down along with the napkin that still needed to be refolded. Instead, she gave Jordan her full attention. She crossed her hands on the table, put her shoulders back, and looked up at his face.

  While his face was acceptable, she wouldn’t necessarily call her companion handsome. Which was fine by her. Handsome was too much trouble.

  Jordan was nice to look at. Nice for her to look at. She didn’t notice any other women in the place looking over at him. Which was perfect for her.

  “Yes, Jordan?” she prompted when he remained silent.

  Jordan’s teeth released his lip, but his mouth closed. He inhaled through his nose and held his breath.

  Rhetta expected him to open his mouth to let out a gush of air. But instead, he kept his mouth closed, and the gush came out of his nose. The release sounded garbled. She wondered if he had a cold? She needed to make sure he saw Dr. Brown soon. It would not do for him to catch a cold and then pass it on to her. She had too much work to do.

  In fact, they both had too much work to do now that she had come on as the resident dog trainer for his veterinary business. Rhetta had definite plans as to how she was going to make his business the best in the whole of Senora Valley. It would start with the reception area of his office which was done in beige wallpaper, a sandy brown sofa, and coffee-colored end tables.

  Rhetta didn’t doubt that Jordan’s hovering mother had been behind the interior decorating. The woman hadn’t an ounce of taste. It had taken Rhetta months to get Jordan out of wearing striped shirts in favor of solid colors.

  She looked again to Jordan. He seemed to have trouble forming words, which was typical. He wasn’t a man of many words, which didn’t bother her. She couldn’t abide an opinionated, loudmouth man who would dare try to tell her what to do. She got enough of that from her alpha wolf mother.

  Jordan opened his mouth to speak. But then he closed it again when the waiter came up.

  “How are you doing this evening, Ms. Veracruz? Dr. Garcia?” Lance smiled at them both, charm offensive on deck.

  Rhetta glared up at him. “Lance, we’ll need new silverware. These don’t look like they’ve come straight from the dishwasher.”

  Lance’s charming smile dipped at her steely tone. “Yes ma’am,” he said and then turned his back on her to face Jordan. “What can I get for you and the lady this evening, Dr. Garcia?”

  Jordan blinked as he looked up at the man, seemingly caught off guard to have the question asked of him. “I was thinking the steak—”

  Rhetta cleared her throat.

  Jordan’s gaze found hers. “Or perhaps, I’d rather …” His forehead wrinkled and he squinted at Rhetta. “The chicken?”

  Rhetta wrinkled her nose.

  Jordan bit his lip. He studied her expression as though he were searching for a clue to his heart’s—or rather his stomach’s—desire. After thirty seconds, he gave up. “What would you suggest, dear?”

  “Why don’t you try the salmon and vegetables?” suggested Rhetta. “It’ll be easier on your stomach. And the flakiness of the meat doesn’t require the use of a steak knife, which will free you from needing more silverware.”

  Lance raised an eyebrow at Jordan. Jordan studiously avoided the other male’s gaze.

  “I’ll have the chicken salad with potatoes. Please make sure the potatoes are crisp and the chicken is cooked in olive oil, not vegetable oil.” Rhetta took Jordan’s menu, placed it beneath hers, and handed them both to Lance. “Are you writing this down, Lance?”

  Lance smiled at her, fake charm dripping off his lips. “Got it all up here.” He tapped his head with his finger before bowing and turning to head to the kitchen. As he walked away, Rhetta heard him mutter under his breath, but she couldn’t make out any of his words.

  “I suspect we will be getting a bit of a sneeze and cough with our meal,” said Jordan as he watched Lance head back to the kitchens.

  Rhetta frowned at her date. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Jordan opened his mouth to explain but then appeared to think better of it. Instead, he fidgeted with the napkin s
he had just carefully refolded for him.

  “Ah,” sighed Rhetta. “I forgot to tell that dolt to get us new napkins as well.”

  “Rhetta,” Jordan began. “There’s something I want to talk to you about. Actually, something I want to ask you.”

  Rhetta peered over Jordan’s shoulder, watching Lance as he wiped sweat from his brow, shake hands with old Mr. Kornacki, and then grab for the water pitcher once more. She decided then and there to forego the complimentary water. In fact, she had a mind to take Jordan by the arm and march them both out of there until Sarah came back and brought sanitation with her.

  “It’s just that … Well, I was thinking … We’ve been together for so long … and, I thought it was maybe, perhaps time that …”

  All of Rhetta’s attention snapped back to Jordan. She sat bolt straight. This was it. He was finally going to do it.

  “Well, go on,” she said.

  Jordan pulled at the collar of his crisp, plain, white shirt. He was wearing the tie she’d given him to celebrate their three-month anniversary. On that anniversary, he’d given her a bracelet. At their six-month anniversary, he’d given her matching earrings. All that was left was the ring.

  Rhetta glanced at her watch. She’d known this was coming, but she hadn’t expected it until their nine-month anniversary. Jordan was actually ahead of schedule, which was a bit annoying.

  Had she known he’d be proposing tonight, she wouldn’t have worn this particular dress. She definitely wouldn’t have chosen this restaurant. And Jordan would’ve looked much better in his blue blazer, for this moment, instead of the brown one he wore. Oh, well. She’d just have to manage it.

  She knew Jordan was The One; the perfect one for her. He was the veterinarian to her dog whisperer. They were age-appropriate with him being just a few years younger, which was excellent since Rhetta knew firsthand about the old adage of old dogs and new tricks.

  The saying didn’t apply so much for Rhetta with her skills. She’d tamed many a wild canine in her days. However, when it came to human males, it was tough to hold their attention from the time they could walk on two legs. With a wolf, you had no hope of holding their attention when they learned they had four legs.

  But Jordan was not a wolf. Jordan was all-male. Well, he was technically half male and half wolf. But the wolf side of him had never manifested.

  Rhetta’s family would never truck with her dating a full-blooded human. Jordan checked the mark of just enough wolf to be acceptable. She hoped. Her family hadn’t actually met him yet.

  Rhetta always said about dogs that it wasn’t the dog that she had to train, it was their owners. And now, Rhetta would be the proud owner of Dr. Jordan Garcia. If he would get on with the question. But he continued to stutter and spurt over her big moment.

  “What is it you want to ask me Jordan?” Rhetta coaxed.

  “Well, Rhetta I know it may be soon, but we’ve been together for six months now.”

  It was eight, but she decided not to mention it now that he seemed to be on a roll.

  “And a man knows when a man knows.” He paused. His jaw began to work again as he bit at the inside of his cheek.

  “A man knows what Jordan?” she prompted.

  “A man knows when he’s found the right woman.” He paused again. More lines gathered in his furrowed brows.

  Rhetta nodded while she waited. And then she gave him another nudge. “And you’ve found the right woman?”

  Jordan nodded, following her head movements. “I’ve found the right woman to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Rhetta took a deep breath, shutting her eyes briefly in a silent prayer of thanks to the Moon Goddess. This was it. This was happening. She looked out the window to see the crescent moon, and when she did, her eyes widened as they took in the curved shape. She turned back to see Jordan putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a box.

  “Stop,” she said.

  Jordan froze with his hand still at his side.

  “You can’t ask me right now.” She pointed outside. “It’s not the right moon.”

  Jordan looked out the window, confused.

  “You can’t ask a wolf to marry you on a waning moon.”

  Jordan blinked, more confusion clouding his eyes. “I didn’t know you were so superstitious.”

  That gave Rhetta pause. She wasn’t superstitious per se, but she didn’t court ill favor from the moon. Not ever. And the Moon Goddess would indeed be angered if Rhetta agreed to mate for life when She was not full.

  “You can’t ask me this right now,” she said. “You have to wait for the full moon.”

  “But that’s tomorrow night. I won’t be here tomorrow night, remember? I have to go to my mother.”

  Rhetta sighed. His blessed beige-loving, tight-apron stringed, perpetually-ill mother.

  “I thought you didn’t like to adhere to the Moonkind ways?” said Jordan.

  Typically she didn’t. She preferred many of the human ways of moving through the world instead of the aggressive, superstitious, backward ways of her Lycan ancestors.

  “It doesn’t matter to me which way we do things. Rhetta, my feelings for you won’t change in one night.” Jordan reached for her hands, and she gave them to him. “But I want to leave knowing that you will be my wife. I want to tell my mother that I have found the woman that I plan to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Rhetta sat back, pulling Jordan forward since he still held onto her hands. She had never known the man to be so romantic. She didn’t like it.

  She looked out the window again. He did have a point. She’d been cultivating this relationship for almost a year now. She’d trained and groomed Jordan better than expected. And they’d come to the exact result that she had carefully constructed.

  After three years as a widow, Rhetta was ready to mate again. She was meant to be a wife with her own family, her own house, her own rules. She’d spent far more time than she’d care to in her mother’s house since her husband’s death.

  Jordan had his own small house that would suit her purposes. The sooner they got engaged, the sooner she could move in and start ordering new furniture. If she made Jordan wait to propose, it would be a whole month, and then they’d need at least another two months to plan the ceremony to coincide with a full moon. Where she could be out of her mother’s house in a month if she accepted his proposal just one night ahead of schedule.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay … What?”

  “Okay, you can ask me now.”

  Jordan’s features relaxed as he let out a breath and extended his hand with the open box. “Rhetta, will you—”

  “Wait!”

  Jordan wrenched his hands and the box back to his side of the table.

  “You have to get down on one knee.”

  “I’m confused.” Jordan frowned again. “That’s the human way. I thought we were now doing this the wolf way?”

  “No, if we did this the wolf way you would have ravished me outside under the moon and bit my neck. You’re half wolf and half human. So, we’ll meet halfway.” She looked at him pointedly. “Get down on one knee.”

  “But the floor’s dirty.”

  She handed him one of the napkins. It wasn’t as though they’d use them during the meal.

  Jordan sighed, but he took the napkin and laid it on the sticky floor. By now they had drawn interested gazes to them. Jordan looked up at the watchful eyes, and his face blanched.

  Rhetta was not one for attention, but they were already midway through this ordeal. If they stopped now, it would draw more attention, and it might scare Jordan off. Rhetta couldn’t have that. Not when what she wanted was only thirty days within reach.

  “Continue,” she said.

  Jordan gulped. He opened the box. Inside was a small diamond ring. It didn’t dazzle, but it wasn’t too shabby either.

  “Rhetta Veracruz, will you do me the honor of being my mate and my wife for the rest of my days?”
r />   “You shouldn’t say days. Wolves mate at night. Try again.”

  Jordan took another breath. “Rhetta Veracruz, would you do me the honor of being my mate and my wife for the rest of my nights?”

  “Yes, Jordan. Yes, I will be your mate. Yes, I will be your wife.”

  Applause broke out around them. Jordan slid the ring onto her finger. She leaned down and gave Jordan a hug. It was a bit awkward with the height discrepancy. The napkin beneath his knee slipped making him fall forward into her. But he righted himself before Rhetta’s chair lost its footing.

  Jordan rose and gave her a chaste kiss on the side of her cheek. A few male diners rose to shake his hand. Jordan’s hands were swallowed up by the mostly human males gathered at the table. He took his seat again just as their order arrived.

  “You did very well, Jordan,” said Rhetta as she took the new knife and fork from Lance. They weren’t spotless, but at least they weren’t foggy either. She was content enough with the events of the night that she decided to take a chance with the cutlery.

  “There was one other thing that I wanted to talk to you about,” said Jordan. “As you know, I’m going out of town to see my mother tomorrow.”

  Rhetta was glad she had a mouthful of chicken. Jordan was constantly out of town visiting his mother. The woman had moved back to a human settlement after Jordan’s Moonkind father had passed away several years ago. Jordan’s trips cut into their time together. But Rhetta would change that once they were made official.

  “There’s something I haven’t told you, Rhetta.”

  Rhetta’s gaze jerked to Jordan’s. She prided herself on knowing everything about this man who she had decided she would spend a nice comfortable life with. She had no idea what he was about to tell her, and she did not like surprises.

  “I have a brother.”

  Rhetta cocked her head to the side at this bit of information. That was news. She’d known about Jordan’s mother, but she hadn’t asked about any siblings. Just his mother’s presence and constant needs had been enough for her to tolerate.

 

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