Secrets of Moonlight Cove: A Romance Anthology

by Jill Jaynes

  “Oh!” Mrs. Itani broke into a wide smile. “Those aren’t apples, they’re pomegranates. If you’ve never had one, you’re in for a treat.”

  Leonie squeezed the pomegranate. It had no give, and the skin was hard and rough like a nut’s shell. “How do you eat it? It’s too hard to bite into.”

  “When the fruit ripens, I’ll invite you over and show you the best technique for opening them up and separating the membranes from the edible pulp. It takes a little practice, but it’s worth it.” Mrs. Itani nodded, smiling. “Would you like to come too, David?”

  Wistfulness tinged her voice. Leonie looked around the yard for any sign a man lived here and found nothing. She must be a widow. Is she Jake’s girlfriend? Another thing I don’t know about my father.

  “I’d love to come over then. You’re very kind to invite me.”

  “It’ll be more fun with you here.” Mrs. Itani led them to a gate in the yard beneath a trellised arch straining under the weight of glossy-leaved vines studded with thousands of white stars. Jasmine, looking and smelling just as it did at home. Mrs. Itani let them out onto an alley.

  The scent of jasmine followed them. Leonie’s stomach twisted with homesickness. But before her sick feeling could spread to her mind and sadden her thoughts, David spoke.

  “I think you made your first friend.”

  Chapter 8

  By midafternoon, David had lost the spring in his step, and Leonie felt droopy and gloomy. None of the other neighbors on the block had any idea of where Jake could be, and none seemed interested in befriending her. In truth, some seemed riled she had had the nerve to knock on their doors.

  “Want to go to the Honey Bee and refuel?” David asked.

  Leonie shook her head. Although it was another chilly day, the sun’s relentless glare had more than made up for it. Despite her sunglasses, the intense light had given her a headache and sucked out her energy. Her eyes burned from the dry air. “I know it’s only a few blocks, but I’m so tuckered they’d feel like miles. Let’s get something cold at my place. There should be something in the icebox we can eat.”

  When they reached the shop, Leonie settled David in the dining room and went to the kitchen to pour glasses of sweet tea. She took David’s glass to him and returned to the kitchen, where she drank her whole glass, refilled it, and drank some more.

  Puff rubbed against her legs, purring.

  “I keep forgetting how fast one gets dehydrated here,” she told Puff and finished her second glass of tea. “You should be glad your ancestors were desert animals.” Then she opened the icebox and stared into it, slumping against a cabinet. Puff stood with her paws on the bottom shelf and looked inside too.

  She had forgotten how much she had cooked this week. She pulled several containers out of the icebox and got down two plates. She put chicken pecan salad, some deviled eggs, and a square of cold cornbread on each plate. Then she loaded them on a tray with her glass and a pitcher of iced tea.

  Cautiously, she heaved the heavy tray up from the cabinet and carried it to the dining room, blowing out her held breath when she set it down.

  David didn’t look up. He had found a notepad somewhere and was writing on it. “I’m trying to figure out an efficient way to reach as many people as possible.” The two sheets of names and phone numbers Mrs. Itani had given them had multiplied into perhaps a dozen sheets scattered over the table.

  Leonie set the tray down, refilled his empty glass, and set his plate down, being careful to avoid the papers.

  His head swiveled to look at the food. “Oh, wow. Thanks.” He drank several swallows of ice tea. “Who could’ve guessed it would take hours to canvass just one block?”

  Guilt stabbed her in the back of her throat. “And you’re still here, helping me out. Sorry it’s more work than you expected.” She took the barrette out of her moist hair.

  “No problem. He’s my friend and a fellow artist.” He raised his eyebrow. “You wouldn’t happen to have any art you’d like to exhibit with me at the show, do you?”

  “Sorry. I just market art, I don’t make it.”

  “Worth asking.” He took a bite of chicken salad. “By the way, do you have any butter for the cornbread?”

  “Bite your tongue!” She pretended outrage. “Cornbread done right doesn’t need butter.”

  David drew back from his plate and gave his cornbread the side-eye. “And that is because… ?”

  “I put enough butter in it when I made it, of course. Why don’t you try some?”

  “Not to disparage your cooking—which I haven’t tried it yet, I want to point out—but this may be too rich for me. It’s me, not you.” He picked up his knife and fork and cut a triangle off the corner.

  It fell over on its side and lay there. How can he resist? The corner was the vivid yellow of an egg yolk and nearly as lustrous. Leonie was tempted to grab it herself before he worked up the courage to eat it.

  “Well?” Leonie folded her arms.

  “Here goes nothing.” He forked the tiny yellow triangle into his mouth. “Oh. My.” He chewed a little. “Oh my gosh, this is incredible.” He picked up the square and ate all the cornbread. Midway through his eyes drifted shut. Crumbs flaked onto the tablecloth and fell on his clothes and the floor. Butter glazed his lips, and a few tiny yellow crumbs stuck to them.

  Leonie, still standing, grabbed the back of her chair. I really want to kiss him right now.

  He sat still for several moments after he finished chewing. When his eyes opened, they were drunk with pleasure, and his face seemed to glow. His gaze wandered from his plate to her face, and he smiled, his lips parted slightly and seductively.

  Leonie swallowed.

  “The chicken salad tastes great, and the eggs look heavenly,” he said in a voice dripping with desire, “but may I please have some more cornbread?”

  “Of course.” Leonie rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the cabinet, drooping with both relief and disappointment. I’m going home soon unless we find Jake. I can’t let myself fall for David.

  At floor level, someone meowed, “You have.”

  Leonie jumped. At her feet, Puff and Slink paraded back and forth in front of their food bowls, tails high, meowing in all kinds of syllables. Did I hear what I wanted to hear or what I dreaded to hear?

  As she poured out kibble, she considered for the first time whether something besides Jake’s return could entice her to stay. She’d now met a man she found appealing, and Mrs. Itani seemed interested in friendship.

  As she cut another square of cornbread for Jake, she shook her head. Such thoughts only show how lonely I am here. One potential boyfriend and one potential woman friend are hardly reasons to live in a chilly town that smells of fish.

  She put the cornbread on a fresh plate and carried it out to David.

  He immediately took a bite. “You said you weren’t an artist, but my taste buds disagree.”

  Warmth filled her belly and chest, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her heart felt full. It feels good to be appreciated by someone other than store customers. By someone I care about. I’ve missed it.

  “Your words are as buttery as the cornbread.” She meant for her tone to be light, teasing, a little tart. Instead, her words came out heavy with meaning and rich with emotions she could not herself name but felt embarrassed by anyway. She quickly changed the subject and waved her arm at the papers scattered across the dining room table. “What have you come up with so far?”

  Refreshed from the iced tea, she leaned over his shoulder to see his work. David’s warmth rose to caress her neck and face. She leaned a little closer.

  “The leader of the Shinto discussion group is also the president of the Buddhist relief organization,” David said. “We can reach a lot of people by asking him to announce at the next meetings we’re looking for Jake.”

  “When are those meetings?”

  “We’ll have to ask.”

  I may be gone by then. Only four days left b
efore I leave unless Jake comes home.

  At least, that’s what I planned. What if David’s right, that something has happened to Jake?

  Even if he has abandoned me again, that doesn’t make it right for me to abandon him. Mama raised me to be a good daughter.

  I don’t know what to think or do.

  “Earth to Leonie.”

  “Yeah?” Somehow, her head was now resting on top of David’s, the waves in his hair tickling her face. Despite their day outside in the sun and the pollution, his hair smelled clean and fresh. She longed to run her fingers through it. She settled with resting her hands on his muscular shoulders. “Did I miss something?”

  “I said I was thinking of going in person to those groups to ask about Jake. Do you want to call the people on these lists? They’re the calligraphers and the bonsai makers or bonsai pruners or whatever they’re called.”

  “I don’t know what they’re called either, but I’ll say ‘bonsai artists.’ That will probably get me the most cooperation.”

  “Cynic.” He held out some papers.

  She took them. David had jotted notes about the people he knew, listing their hobbies and interests as well as their sexes, ages, and jobs. Knowing this information would make it easier to establish a connection with the people.

  Even so, the density of writing on the pages threatened to make her eyes cross, and she sighed.

  David’s head snapped up. “Geez, you look tired.” He stood and pulled out her chair. “Sit, drink your tea, and have some food. You haven’t even touched your plate, have you?”

  She sank onto the padded seat gratefully, and another sigh escaped her.

  “Don’t make any calls until you’re feeling better. I can get started on your list while you eat. I want you fresh for our trip to Rainbow’s End tomorrow.”

  Chapter 9

  Sunday morning, David led Leonie through the smallest streets and back alleys of Moonlight Cove, but they still had to weave around Bikini Babes trucks reeking of diesel fuel, lighting booms that towered over the buildings, men who shouted and waved their arms, and food-service tents smelling of burnt hash browns and weak coffee.

  “They haven’t even started filming yet, and already I’m looking forward to them leaving.” David wrinkled his nose. “I’m glad you didn’t want to go to the beach. At the park, we’ll be away from the Bikini Babes ruckus, and it’s a beautiful day to sit outside.”

  “Beautiful,” Leonie agreed, “but a little cool right now.” She shivered and shoved her hands in the pockets of her white Tulane sweatshirt with its large Green Wave logo.

  David looked up, sighed, and stretched his arms wide as if to embrace the sky. “This is the perfect weather for me.” He looked her up and down with an amused expression, just as he had when she had opened the door this morning. “Once the sun is higher, you may be too warm in those hiking boots and heavy pants.” He quirked an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind my asking, why do you have waders tied to your backpack and a Bowie knife tucked into the lacing cords of your boot?”

  “I was going to ask why you didn’t.” Leonie hadn’t yet gotten over her horror at his outfit of flip-flops, camouflage shorts, and a green t-shirt with an image of one of the rose paintings by Redouté. “Aren’t you worried a hunter will shoot you or a snake will bite you?”

  A grin quirked the corner of his mouth. “Not really.”

  Leonie shivered. “Me, I hate it when I get snakes in my boots.”

  David’s grin widened.

  Leonie’s face got hot. “Well, excuse me if I’m too girly for you. I don’t mind fish in my boots, by the way. Them I can cook.” She put her hands on her hips. “Are we going hiking, or are you too disappointed?”

  “I’m not disappointed. But you may be when we get to Rainbow’s End. Here, let me carry those waders.” She mouthed some mild, unconvincing protests, but he untied the waders from her backpack and slung them over his shoulder. A loud string of curses sounded from one of the Bikini Babes trucks, and he picked up the pace and turned a corner. “There’s a private street here.” He climbed over the gate.

  Leonie put one hand on the top of the gate and vaulted over. Her gymnastics training had come in handy twice now in the few days she had known David. “Why do you think I’ll be disappointed?”

  “The park’s much tamer than you seem to expect. No marshes, no streams. No large or medium carnivores. Do you know anything about California history?”

  She shook her head. “Only that Japanese immigrants have been important in farming since the 1800s. Or at least, that’s what Jake told me.” She waved her hand at the tiny but beautifully rehabbed old cottages on the street around them. “He also said the Japanese have been in Moonlight Cove since the beginning.”

  “Then you can guess the habitat and environment around here has changed a lot. The Spanish started building missions along the coast in the 1770s and forced the native people into them to live and work. Many coastal counties quickly became grazing land for horses, sheep, and cattle. The habitat changed, and predators left or were killed.”

  “That’s shameful.”

  “Were your ancestors treated any better in Louisiana?”

  “No.” She shook her head so hard that her pigtails slapped her cheeks. “But we at least had the swamplands to flee to.”

  They both were silent. Then David said, “We’re almost there.”

  They came to the last and most magnificent house of the street, a new house in the style of a cottage but three times as big. While staring at it, Leonie slipped and had to grab on to David’s arm to keep from falling. She looked down. Loose sand covered the sidewalk. What is sand doing here? She sniffed. Moonlight Cove’s fishy, aquarium-plant smell was particularly strong here. She let go of David and jogged in the street, where there was less loose grit, to get past the house and its profusion of bushes.

  Sand stretched before her, and the ocean beyond. Children’s screams assaulted her ears, barely dulled by the soft, rhythmic roar of the waves.

  Her jaw clenched. She turned her gaze to her guide.

  “You tricked me!”

  “I didn’t trick you!” David protested.

  She walked onto the beach and turned around. There stood the town’s famous lighthouse, high above them… and behind David. Rainbow’s End was on the same cliff. For true, they had been walking away from the park, not toward it. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him indignantly.

  “It’s a shortcut,” David protested. “I admit, I did want you to see the beach, because I think you could learn to like it. But—”

  “But?” This better be good.

  “But you liked the pieces in Mr. Hamasaki’s shop, and I thought…” He swallowed twice and blushed bright red, with his ear tops a particularly flaming color. “I wanted you to see some of my inspiration for those pieces. But it’s okay if you don’t want to. I’m sorry you felt tricked. I wanted it to be a surprise, and, well, I guess that was stupid. We can go right to the path.”

  Leonie’s face tingled, and nausea briefly overwhelmed her. I’ve been smitten with his art since I got here, and now I may have ruined my chance to learn more about it and insulted David in the process. “I’m an idiot,” she said firmly. “I love your art, and I would love to see what inspires it. Please.”

  He turned away from her and gestured at the bluff. “The cove is roughly a half circle, and the bluff meets the beach on either side of town.” He pointed to a spot where the looming cliff ran parallel to the beach before it plunged into the dark, churning ocean. “I want to show you a small piece of the cliff face there. It’s very near the stairs up to the park, I promise.” When he turned around to face her, his face had returned to its normal color.

  She nodded.

  With more confidence in his voice, he continued. “The fastest way there is across the sand. I’ll stay near you in case you slip again.”

  “I’ll be more careful now I know how tricky sand is to walk on.” She sat and took
off her boots.

  “You won’t want to walk barefoot. You’ll burn your feet.”

  “I doubt it.” She took off her socks and raised her feet so he could see the calloused bottoms. “I’ll balance better if I can feel what I’m walking on.” She stood and stepped onto the sand, and David winced.

  The sand felt soothing and warm. When she took another step, her feet sank into the embrace of the sand. “Don’t faint, but there’s something I do like about the beach. I love how my feet feel so cozy in the sand and how the grains tickle the tops of my feet. I also like the shushing sound the ocean makes.”

  “I knew I’d win you over to beach life!” he crowed.

  “Two things I like don’t add up to being won over.”

  “One step at a time.” He grinned. “Come on!”

  He walked briskly to the cliff, Leonie following. When they reached the spot he had pointed to, she stared at it in wonder, dizzy with euphoria. She grabbed onto David’s arm for the second time that day to keep her balance.

  “These rocks are crazy. We have nothing like these back home,” Leonie said. “What happened here?”

  Her words apparently called forth the geeky side of David Lewys. “You’re looking at the history of California,” he enthused. “The stripes of different colors show deposits from different times. The tan layers are sandstone, and so are these two layers. And this pale layer is chert, which often contains millions of skeletons of microscopic organisms. The dark layers are shale, which is clay compacted into rock while underwater.”

  Leonie’s eyes widened. Around her feet, chilly ocean water seethed around rounded knobs of rock that protruded from the sand and massaged her feet. Careful of the slippery stones, Leonie inched closer to the cliff, wading through the low tide, until she could touch the cliff and run her hands over it.

  “If you look closely, you can see many bits of rock that don’t match what’s around them,” David said. “Coarse-grained granites that sparkle with tiny quartz crystals. Black basalt pieces so fine-grained that you can’t even see the grain at all. Bits of glistening black glass called obsidian that once spewed out of volcanoes as lava.”