Moonlight over Manhattan

by Sarah Morgan

  “Not many moose in Times Square.”

  “Oh funny.” She pulled a face. “You worked out in the boonies, and you’ve visited here every year for decades. You must have had a moose encounter.”

  “Only when hiking.”

  “Are they dangerous?”

  “They’re probably more scared of you than you are of them.” He turned down a narrow lane and she craned her neck to see through the trees.

  “The lake is frozen! People are skating.”

  “If there’s one thing Vermont has plenty of, it’s ice.”

  “What about wildlife? Any bears I should know about?”

  “They’re hibernating. If you’re lucky you might see white-tailed deer, snowshoe hare, coyote, bobcats and the odd porcupine.” He pulled up outside a rustic gate. “We have to walk from here. It’s not far.”

  Trees drooped under the heavy load of snow, the silence broken only when the weight of their burden became too much and it thudded to the ground in a soft avalanche of white.

  Harriet stared upward feeling as if she were a million miles from her life.

  Her eyes stung. She told herself it was because of the cold, but she knew she was lying.

  It was because she’d never been anywhere more beautiful.

  Behind her, she heard the slam of the trunk as Ethan removed their cases.

  The path had been cleared recently, although judging from the layer of new snow it had snowed again since. Their footsteps were muffled and their breath clouded the freezing air. She felt the cold penetrate her gloves, stinging the tips of her fingers. She didn’t care. They turned a corner and there, right in front of them, was a cabin that looked like something out of a fairy tale. A tasteful blend of wood and glass, it merged with the forest as if it were part of it. The cabin was framed by the forest and set on the shores of the lake.

  Harriet admired it. “I’m beginning to understand why you come back here every year.”

  “This is a relatively recent development. Jackson upgraded the place when he took over. Made a few changes.”

  “I think the place is gorgeous.”

  “Wait until you see inside.”

  They stamped the snow from their boots and stepped through the door.

  Harriet stared up at the cathedral ceiling and the glass windows that soared into the eaves. In the corner of the room a pretty iron staircase led to a sleeping “shelf” overlooking the forest.

  Roughly chopped logs had been stacked in a basket next to the flickering fire and someone had hung tiny lights from the rafters, turning the whole place into the adult equivalent of a fairy grotto. Deep cushioned sofas faced each other across a rug and tall bookshelves made from reclaimed wood hugged one wall of the cabin.

  It occurred to her that if she hadn’t challenged herself to agree to dog sitting she never would have met Ethan, at least not properly because she didn’t count the whole bruised ankle incident. And if she hadn’t met Ethan, she wouldn’t be here now. Which proved, once again, that Challenge Harriet paid dividends. Doing things you’d never thought of doing led to discoveries like this one.

  Harriet walked across the room, feeling her feet sink into the soft rug. “I want to move in and live here forever.”

  “Yeah, it has that effect on people.” Ethan dumped their cases by the door. “It’s one of the reasons it’s a success. Some of their guests have been coming back for years. Jackson could have crammed in more lodges, but he chose to keep it exclusive. Each cabin feels secluded and intimate. You wouldn’t even know there was anyone else nearby. Which is handy if you feel like having sex in the hot tub on the deck. Unless that’s something Harriet Knight would never do.”

  She turned her head and met his gaze. “It’s definitely something Harriet Knight would do.”

  But first there was something she needed to show him.

  Hoping she hadn’t made a mistake, she slipped off her coat and finally pulled off her hat, watching him the whole time.

  His eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but no words emerged.

  It was the reaction she’d been hoping for.

  She smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He swallowed. “You had it cut?”

  “No, a madman attacked me with a pair of scissors when I was in Bloomingdale’s. Of course I had it cut.” She stroked the ends of her hair self-consciously. It still felt strange to have short hair brushing against her jaw.

  “Have you had it short before?”

  “Never.” And she still wasn’t used to it herself. Her whole life she’d had hair down her back. Now it swung in a short cut that ended at her chin. “I was worried you might hate it.”

  “I love it.” He crossed the room toward her. “It makes your eyes look huge. And you have great bones. You’re beautiful—”

  “Keep talking. Don’t stop.”

  “I have to stop. I can’t talk and kiss you and I really have to kiss you.” He slid his fingers into her hair and brought his mouth down on hers, the intimate slide of his tongue the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced. Heat blasted through her, spreading through her body. He wrapped his arms round her, his arms strong, and she melted against him, passion consuming both of them.

  She felt the hardening length of him and might have done something about it there and then if it hadn’t been for the fact that from behind them came the sound of someone clearing his throat.

  Ethan released her reluctantly and both of them turned toward the sound.

  A man stood in the doorway of the cabin. He was dressed in ski gear and had the bluest eyes Harriet had ever seen.

  “Came to check you’d settled in, but you don’t seem to be having any problems on that score.”

  “Ty—” Ethan crossed the room and the two men greeted each other. “How’s Jess?”

  “She’s going to be the youngest slalom champion in history.” Tyler’s eyes glowed with pride. “No one can catch her.”

  “Chip off the old block.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “And Brenna?”

  “Pregnant.”

  Ethan grinned. “You’ve been busy. How does Jess feel about it?”

  “She can’t wait. She’ll have the baby on skis before he or she can walk.” Tyler’s gaze rested on Harriet. “You brought a guest.”

  Harriet recognized him from the photo on the book jacket of the autobiography she’d found in Ethan’s apartment. The front cover had been a photo of him skiing what appeared to be an almost vertical slope, and the back cover had been a photo of him holding a gold medal and laughing at the camera.

  “I’m Harriet.” She stretched out her hand but before Tyler could take it two large Siberian husky dogs barreled through the door, almost knocking the two men down.

  “Stay! Sit,” Tyler bellowed but both dogs ignored him and headed straight for Harriet.

  Tyler swore fluently but Harriet stooped to greet the dogs.

  “Well, aren’t you beautiful. Gorgeous, gorgeous dogs.”

  Tyler exchanged an astonished glance with Ethan, who shrugged.

  “Harriet loves dogs and she’s good with them.”

  “In that case she’s going to fit right in around here. I was going to apologize for their terrible manners but maybe I’ll save my breath.”

  “They’re the most beautiful dogs I’ve ever seen.” Harriet dropped to her knees on the rug and buried her hands in the fur of the dog closest to her. “I love Siberian huskies. What are their names?”

  “That’s Luna. She’s the one with the brain. Devoted to my daughter. Pines when she’s away. The other one is Ash. He’s more of a bruiser. Seems pretty taken with you. Do you have a dog back home?”

  “Not my own, but I’m thinking of it.” She stood up and Ash immediately head-butted her leg, annoyed to have lost her attention. “I have to find a breed suitable for apartment living. Nothing as large and bouncy as these.”

  “Yeah, they like to use up every inch of the forest. If you have e
verything you need, I’ll leave the two of you to unpack. Dinner is at seven. It’s family night, so no excuses accepted. We’ll catch up properly then. And we’ll find you boots and skis.” He left, the dogs bounding ahead, and Harriet watched them go.

  “Family night?”

  “The O’Neils have a rule that once a week everyone eats together, no matter what is going on and how busy they are. All of them. Grandparents. Kids. Dogs. No exceptions unless you’re out of the country.”

  She felt something uncurl inside her. “I’m not family.”

  “You’re with me. That counts.” He picked up the cases. “I’ll take these through to the bedroom.”

  Harriet glanced up at the shelf and felt a stab of disappointment. “That’s not the bedroom?”

  “It’s not the master suite.”

  “But we could sleep there?”

  “It’s where I sleep when I come on my own. Do you want to sleep there?”

  “Yes! How can you even ask? It’s like being part of the forest.”

  “Then let’s sleep there, but we’ll keep our stuff in the main bedroom. That’s where the bathroom is. Do you want to take a shower before dinner?”

  “Who exactly will be at dinner?”

  “Most of the family, probably. Is that a problem?” His expression changed to one of understanding. “Strangers. Dinner. Your two least favorite things. But these are good people, Harriet.”

  “Yes.” Harriet glanced down at her black jeans and her soft sweater. “Should I dress up?”

  “You look great. And that sweater looks amazing with your new short hair.” He pulled her against him and brought his mouth down to hers in a kiss that almost made her wish they didn’t have to go to dinner. Given the choice she would have stayed right here, in this amazing cabin, and watched the snow gently layer on the trees.

  She comforted herself with the knowledge that these people had dogs. How bad could they be?

  All the same, she felt nervous as they walked the short distance to the main house.

  As Ethan pushed open the door that led straight into the big farmhouse kitchen, Harriet saw what felt like a million pairs of eyes turned in her direction.

  Ethan closed the door, locking in the heat. “This is Harriet.”

  “Harriet!” A woman rose to her feet, all smiles. “I’m Elizabeth O’Neil, Ethan’s godmother. My three sons, Jackson, Sean and Tyler, their grandparents Walter and Alice—”

  The introductions seemed to go on and on and blurred in her head. How many people were there? Nine? Ten? Was Kayla married to Jackson or was that someone else? No, the dark-haired girl was Brenna and she was pregnant, which meant she had to be Tyler’s wife. And the woman talking to herself in French while she cooked was Élise, Sean’s wife. Jess, Tyler’s teenage daughter, was away at a training camp…

  She wished they were wearing name tags.

  And she wished they weren’t all looking at her.

  It was her turn to say something.

  “G-g-g—” The word refused to leave her mouth and she froze. No. No! Why now? She felt the familiar wash of panic. The usual desire to run, but Ethan was standing behind her, his body a solid wall of protection and reassurance.

  And she realized she had two choices. She could run, as she’d done that night with Ethan. She could mumble her excuses and leave and no doubt the O’Neils would be very polite about it, or she could face it and find her way through it. Running was the easy way out. Running wasn’t the challenge.

  Staying put and trying again, that was the challenge.

  She forced herself to stand still. Forced herself to breathe and take her time.

  So what if her words weren’t smooth? Did it really matter? This time she was not walking out. She was not calling her sister. She was not going to make a vow never to walk into a room with a bunch of strangers again.

  She was going to deal with the issue as best she could.

  She felt Ethan’s hand on her shoulder and the reassuring squeeze of his fingers.

  She pushed her hair away from her face, conscious of the snow dusting her head and her shoulders. And tried again, this time starting with a different word. “It’s good to meet you all.”

  The moment the words left her lips, she felt a rush of elation.

  She’d done it.

  This time, she hadn’t run from the obstacle. And she discovered that an obstacle didn’t seem so much of an obstacle if you knew you could get to the other side.

  The two Siberian huskies, Ash and Luna, came bounding across to her, as did a small miniature poodle with the sweetest face she’d ever seen.

  It leaped up at her, leaving paw prints on her black jeans.

  “Maple!” It was Jackson who called the dog but Harriet bent and scooped her up.

  “Are you Maple? And you live with these two big bruisers? How’s that working out for you?” Her words flowed, as if her previous lack of fluency had never happened.

  “It’s working out just fine,” Tyler drawled, “because she’s the one in charge. Don’t let her size fool you. She’s the boss.”

  “It is the same in our house.” Élise waved the wooden spoon she was holding. “I am smaller, but I am absolutely the boss.” She eyed Sean and he gave a deceptively placid smile.

  “I never argue with you when you’re cooking, angel.”

  “Those dogs shouldn’t be jumping on our guest.” Elizabeth fussed but Tyler waved a hand.

  “Harriet is a dog lover. She’s fine.”

  Harriet would have agreed. She was fine. She really was fine.

  How many things had she avoided doing in case she stammered? All those phone calls. Her issues with strangers. Most of them were tied in with her anxiety about stammering and what people thought about her.

  And honestly, who cared?

  No one, just as no one seemed to care that Élise spoke with a strong French accent.

  Still holding a wriggling, ecstatic Maple, Harriet joined the O’Neils at the table. She was filled with a whole new confidence. Challenge? What challenge? “I spend my whole day around dogs, but sadly not my own. I’ve been thinking of changing that. I hadn’t thought of getting a miniature poodle.”

  “She’s a rescue. Jackson found her tied to a tree—” Tyler reached out to help himself to bread but his mother slapped his hand.

  “We have a guest.”

  “I know we have a guest. There are napkins on the table, which only happens when we have a guest. If napkins are a sign we can’t eat, I hate them more than I did before.” He closed his hand over a bread roll and his mother shook her head in despair.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m a normal healthy male and I’ve been on the mountain all day expending calories like there’s no tomorrow. I’m starving. If I don’t eat there won’t be a tomorrow. Also, if I eat I can be civil to our guest. If not, I’ll be unconscious and Sean will have to resuscitate me.” He tore the roll in half and spread it thickly with butter.

  “What makes you think I’d resuscitate you?” Sean yawned. “For the record, I’d push your body out of the way and eat your portion. And I’ve been operating all day, so don’t look to me for sympathy.”

  Sean was a doctor, Harriet remembered. Orthopedic surgeon. Jackson was the businessman.

  “No one looks to you for sympathy.” Tyler scowled at Sean. “You’re the least sympathetic doctor on the planet. God help your patients.”

  “Sympathy is a wasted emotion, especially since my patients are mostly unconscious.”

  “They have no idea how lucky they are.”

  “Ignore him.” Elizabeth handed Brenna a deep bowl filled with the most delicious-smelling soup.

  As Elizabeth served food and Sean and Tyler continued to argue, Harriet had a chance to glance around the room. There were bunches of herbs drying above the range, surfaces gleamed and everywhere she looked there were family photographs.

  She noticed that the grandmother, Alice, was k
nitting at the table and mostly ignoring the arguing going on around her. Everyone was relaxed and comfortable.

  Family night.

  She felt the hard ball of tension inside her gradually melt.

  This was how it should be. Love and respect simmered in the air. It was there in the teasing, in the laughter, in the listening.

  This was what she wanted. She wanted a big scrubbed kitchen table with scars that showed the passage of family life. She wanted to be surrounded by this much laughter and this much love. She wanted people to be able to disagree without fear, to voice differing opinions without animosity.

  She wanted family night.

  Sean and Ethan started talking about some medical development and Kayla covered her ears with her hands.

  “No hospital talk at the table, Sean, that’s the rule.”

  “All I’m saying is that I was called to the ER last week to see—”

  “La la la,” Kayla sang loudly, “I can’t hear you.”

  Sean rolled his eyes and gestured to Ethan, indicating that they’d grab some time later.

  The door opened again and another man entered carrying an armful of logs. He was older. In his sixties, Harriet guessed, but still handsome in a rough, outdoorsy sort of way. His hair was gray and he had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen.

  Elizabeth put down the plate she’d been holding. “Tom.”

  The look they shared excluded everyone else in the room.

  Harriet knew she should look away, but she couldn’t. When had her parents ever looked at each other like that? Never.

  There was a tight feeling around her heart. A sting in her throat.

  “No romance at the table.” Tyler covered his eyes. “Spare us.”

  Did Elizabeth’s sons mind that their mother was marrying again? She could see how that might be a sensitive topic for them.

  “Sit down, Tom.” Jackson pulled out the chair next to him. “You need to eat while there’s still some food.”

  “Don’t hold back,” Sean advised. “That’s the way to starvation in this family.”

  Tom’s smile indicated he was familiar with the rules of the house. He nodded at Harriet and then turned back to Elizabeth. “I fixed the shower in the Hayloft.”

  The conversation continued, back and forth, switching between subjects, occasionally punctuated by the dogs.