by Denise Daisy
Lillian couldn‘t withhold her shock. “Travis has traveled the world?”
“Yep,” Sherrie answered proudly, as if in some way Travis belonged to her personally. “That man’s been all over this world. I‘d say he pretty much knows his way across the planet.”
Bronwyn was speechless. She sat astounded, as Ashley took the smooth stones from the bottom of the basin and massaged her feet.
“I thought he was some backward mountain man that had never been out of Moonshine,” she heard herself confess aloud.
“He just doesn’t seem the type,” Lillian added.
“The type?” Sherrie laughed. “He’s the type, alright. My type. He’s pretty near perfect if you ask me. I don’t think there’s a woman around here that wouldn’t take that beautiful man if they could get him. Myself included!”
“Sherrie!” Ashley said, her voice rising, “What would Martin say if he heard you?”
“Oh he’d get over it.” Sherrie began to massage Lillian’s feet. “Besides, Martin doesn’t have anything to worry about. Everyone knows Travis’s heart belongs to only one woman.”
“Lucky Mavis,” Lillian said.
“Yep,” Sherrie agreed. “That woman’s been through some hard times, but all in all, I’d have to say she’s blessed to have Travis.”
Bronwyn’s heart ached. All this new information, this “research,” was proving to be more than she had anticipated. The fact Travis was a doctor surprised her. That he was extremely wealthy, and had traveled the world, opening clinics for the less fortunate, shocked her, and stung a bit. The final blow to her heart was Sherrie’s statement that he could have any woman he so desired, however, his heart belonged to only one. Again, she reprimanded her pain. She should be delighted in the fact that Travis was proving to be the hero of whom she desired to write. Yet the pain was real, and she abhorred what it was doing to her. For the past six months, Ryan had contributed so much sadness, despondency and sick feelings to the pit of her stomach. Now, she realized she had shoved most of her thoughts of Ryan aside and replaced them with Travis. Could she indeed be falling for him, as Bethany so adamantly stated? Could she be falling for a man she had known for less than three days? She was too smart for that. Yet, there was a strong, undeniable yearning for him that far surpassed any silly crush. She could not understand why she desired a man so deeply--especially one she wasn‘t sure she could trust. She wished Larry would hurry and repair their bus. Then she could flee far away from Moonshine, and never think of him again.
“The people of Moonshine will surprise you,” Ashley said proudly. “We have some of the most interesting characters you could ever meet living here.”
The girls seemed talkative and eager to give out free information so Bronwyn took the opportunity to explore a bit further. “Were you both born here?”
Both girls concentrated on their task, dropping their gaze into the pedicure tub.
“No.” Ashley answered for them both, but gave no more information. Bronwyn thought it was somewhat peculiar since she was so chatty only moments before. She pressed the matter some more. “Where were you born, and what brought you to Moonshine?”
Sherrie took over. “Our families relocated here years ago, and we’ve been here ever since.”
“You’ve never left?” Lillian asked shocked.
“We’ve traveled some. But this is home, for now anyway.” Sherrie looked over at Bronwyn. “Though I suspect I might be leaving soon.” She smiled, and her grin unnerved her, and although their casual banter seemed honest, Bronwyn sensed an underlying meaning.
Bronwyn took a deep breath and asked another, “I’ve seen a man around here. He has long hair, which he usually wears back in a ponytail. He’s unshaven, has a nice body, cool clothes. He wears dark sunglasses and he smokes. Who is he?”
“That would be Falcon.” Sherrie said, blushing. “I’m in love with the thought of that man!”
“Gosh, Sherrie!” Ashley reprimanded her again. “I feel sorry for poor Martin. You’re lusting over every man in town but him.”
Lillian laughed at the girls’ banter.
Bronwyn quickly took back control, not wishing the conversation to phase into frivolity and the topic be dismissed before she found anything out. “Tell me about him.”
Both girls remained silent for a moment, and when Bronwyn noticed them looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes, she knew she had stumbled onto something. Ashley finally spoke.
“There’s not much to tell. He’s pretty mysterious, keeps to himself. We think he’s some kind of secret agent,” she said in a hushed voice, as if someone bugged the salon with listening devices.
Bronwyn felt the heat. Her pulse quickened. No doubt about it. This, ‘Falcon,’ was the cloaked man! But, if he was some sort of secret agent, why was he following her?”
“He was stalking us,” Bronwyn said.
Lillian glanced at her. “He was? When?”
“He was the one following us on our walk the first day into town. It wasn’t an animal in the woods. It was him. I saw him. Then he was at the café later when we were having lunch. I saw him staring at us from across the patio. He gave me the creeps.”
Ashley laughed. “That would be him alright. He always watches people. I guess no one ever told him staring was rude.”
Once again Ashley laughed it off, trying to divert the truth, but Bronwyn knew there was more to him than poor social skills.
“He has friends that come to visit him from time to time,” Sherrie added, also trying to make light of the subject. “They all have bird names too. I heard him call one of them Hawke, another Macaw, and there’s one I heard him call Vulture. Talk about someone giving you the creeps!” Sherrie shuddered. “I guess they’re all agents too.”
Bronwyn’s mind continued to spin. This was all beginning to sound vaguely familiar. She had heard of this before, of secret agents with bird names. But where? She’d recently read about them, but remembered dismissing the notion. It seemed so ridiculous. When and where had she encountered these people? Suddenly she recalled the incident. Her deleted files! She’d read that synopsis yesterday while scanning through her discarded writings.
Uncomfortable, she shifted her feet in the water.
“I’m sorry did I hurt you?” Ashley asked.
“No. Just a nervous twitch, I guess. So, do these secret agents live in the woods and wear black hooded robes?” Bronwyn noticed Sheeree and Ashley exchange looks, and added, “Do they? Is there a secret society or cult up here we should know about?” For once, the two girls grew quiet.
Ashley removed Bronwyn’s feet from the basin and promptly drained the tub. She toweled them off and then proceeded to rub an agreeable smelling lotion over them.
“Anyone else intriguing?” Lillian hoped to dispel the awkwardness in the room.
“Adam and Alycia.” Ashley answered as if she was relieved to discuss a new topic. “They’re fraternal twins who were separated at birth.”
“You do not know how to tell a story!” Sherrie said. “You left out the best part.”
“I’m not a gossip like you.” Ashley sounded prudish. “Besides, I won’t rob you of the thrill of telling it.”
Sherrie leaned in, speaking in a hushed whisper.
“Rumor is, they are supposedly royalty, a prince and a princess in exile from their country. They are supposedly heirs to a throne somewhere. That’s the real reason they were separated at birth. Their parents were assassinated. Loyal friends of the family took the babies and fled the country.”
Lillian sat on the edge of her cushioned chair, enthralled. Bronwyn remained silent. Her stomach was in knots and her head began to feel light. She wished Sherrie would stop talking. It was as if they all had secretly read her deleted files, and then decided to tell the stories back to her. She remembered retrieving that synopsis yesterday as well. My Better Half. She could find no explanation over what was playing out. However, she was certain it was not altitude sickness.
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Ashley and Sherrie quickly finished polishing the girls’ toenails and cleaned up their supplies. They left Bronwyn and Lillian alone to dry.
“My God, Bronwyn, why did you ask such a strange question?” Lillian asked. “I think you may have offended them. In any case, you learned quite a bit about Travis. I think your research was pretty successful.”
Bronwyn wished the polish would hurry and dry. Her next stop in this town would be Larry’s garage, to check on the status of the ordered parts. She wanted out of this place - at once!
Her pressing engagement was quickly forgotten when Bethany joined them in the pedicure room. She and Lillian were both caught off guard at the sight of her new mullet.
“Oh my God!” Lillian exclaimed, covering her mouth with her slender fingers. “What happened to your hair?”
“Can we just get out of here before I start to cry?” she asked.
Bronwyn bit her lip in an attempt to choke back her laughter.
Lillian‘s eyes flashed. “I warned you.”
“I just asked for a trim!” Bethany said in a hoarse whisper. “I should have known when she suggested that I would look good in the Jennifer Aniston cut. I told her I used to have that cut, way back when it was in style. Let’s just get out of here.”
The girls paid and hurriedly left the salon.
Sherrie placed the pedicure utensils in the disinfectant solution and washed her hands. “You really shouldn’t smoke in here, you know.”
“So you’re in love with the thought of me huh?”
Sherrie smiled and turned off the water. “So, how’d we do?”
Falcon extinguished his cigarette and stood. “Pretty good. Keep it up and I might let you join the NESST.” He flashed his impish grin and disappeared out the back door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As the day wore on, the outdoor activities in Moonshine shifted from productive construction to gaiety and frivolity. With most of the work completed, the residents enjoyed a pre-festival party. As with every year on the eve of the festival, the café and other local restaurants treated volunteer workers to a free buffet dinner on the courtyard. The bands, taking their turns at a sound check and a brief rehearsal, entertained the dining workers. Dancing followed, along with homemade alcohol, and the town soon came alive.
The girls, along with the rest of the troupe, spent the remainder of the afternoon helping construct and decorate, much to the delight of the local towns-folk. Karley and Walt offered to unload the troupe’s superior sound system from the bus, despite Wilbur’s loud protesting. Bronwyn ran into Larry and questioned him on the status of the parts, only to learn that they had yet to arrive. The eight-to-ten business day estimate was proving to be the actual waiting time.
As the evening wore on and the strung lights lit the courtyard, the grounds filled with people. They lounged on the ground or danced to the music. Bronwyn soon found herself on the large wooden platform with the others in the troupe, giving an impromptu performance. Marcus had finally relented, due to the pleadings of the locals. He decided on a comedy selection from one of their previous productions, instead of a scene from their current piece Bronwyn was struggling to re-write.
The locals enjoyed the performance, breaking out in spontaneous laughter at the comedy, and standing to applaud when it was over. Another band took the stage as the troupe descended. The dancing started up once more. Bronwyn joined them on the grass, quickly learning the steps. This dance was obviously a local favorite, perhaps even legendary in these mountains. She enjoyed the fast-paced choreography, spinning from one partner to the next. Each face she connected with gave her a wide, toothy grin. She was spun into the arms of the always-smiling Gil Peverly, the jokester and owner of the market. Sidestepping and shuffling, he gave a slight bow, “Howdy little lady.”
This time Bronwyn returned the smile she had withheld at their first meeting. Gil spun her around and passed her into the arms of Larry the mechanic.
“Parts still haven’t arrived,” he said, grinning as he side-stepped, shuffled and spun her into the arms of an extremely attractive man, she hadn’t seen in Moonshine, before now.
He was olive-skinned with dark, curly hair brushing the top of his shoulders. His eyes were a deep steel blue. He had a gentle face and his speaking voice matched his appearance. He offered Bronwyn a warm hello and an adoring smile. Slightly bowing his head in a respectful nod, he continued dancing while never removing his eyes from her face. All too soon, he twirled her into the arms of Trent.
“Well hello there, love.” Trent’s familiar British accent comforted her. Another side step and shuffle, and Bronwyn found herself twirled into the arms of Falcon! Dark glasses covered his eyes. His impish grin frightened her. He said nothing as he twirled her, nor did he pass her on down the line. Instead, he purposely kept her to himself, spinning her out of the dance line, maintaining a tight hold as he whirled her forcefully across the lawn.
She panicked. Why had she let her guard down? Her afternoon with the friendly residents disarmed her to the point of second-guessing herself, thinking that maybe she’d been mistaken about the place. But now, locked in Falcon’s tight hold, the suspicion resurfaced. She tried to focus her eyes, however, everything was a blur as if she was riding some spinning carnival ride. The heat raised uncontrollably, her heart now in her throat, choking her. She tried to pull away, but his grip remained firm. He kept his body close to hers, moving her along quickly across the grounds. She tried once more to push him away, yet was no match for his strength.
“Stay with me, scribe,” his deep voice whispered in her ear. “Don’t fight me.”
Scribe? What did he mean by that? He moved her swiftly through the crowd, his body creating a shield. Again, she tried to focus and look around for help, yet he spun her with such force she could not.
“Don‘t try to look around.” He turned her head, burying it into his chest. There was no air, she felt it difficult to breathe. She desperately tried to push him away. However, her attempt proved futile against his crushing strength.
Then, as suddenly as he had grabbed her, he let her go. Stumbling across the grass she regained her footing and looked around for help. He was not there. Where had he gone? She gazed down the line of dancers, yet he was not among them. She quickly scanned the courtyard - no sign of him. How could he have disappeared so quickly?
The band continued to play, their music blaring from the speakers. She felt trapped in the center of a gigantic carousel, trying to make her way back to her friends, while everything spun around her. The heat began to rise again, as it had at the falls. Her legs became wobbly, her heart raced at an alarming rate. The twinkling lights faded all around her. She stumbled and lost her footing.
She heard a voice in the distance asking her if she were all right. Then there was sudden darkness as she felt herself falling.
Ashley and Sherrie caught her as she fainted and laid her gently on the ground.
“Someone wanna go get Travis!” Ashley yelled above the music.
Several people stopped dancing, and soon a small crowd gathered. Bethany, Trent, and Lillian pushed their way through and knelt beside of their fallen friend.
“What happened?” Trent asked. “Don’t tell me she was climbing bloody trees again.”
“I saw her standing there looking pale,” Ashley said, eagerly offering Trent the news. “Then she just kind of fell over.”
A sudden gust of wind blew through the crowd, sending paper plates and napkins flying across the courtyard. Booth awnings billowed upward, a couple of makeshift stands collapsed. Bronwyn’s eyes fluttered open. She looked around, instantly noticing the sea of faces staring at her from above.
“Bronwyn?” It was Bethany.
“What happened?”
“You fainted, hon,” Ashley said.
Bethany leaned in. “Are you okay? I think maybe you should see a doctor.” She whispered her next words, so no one else could hear. “You’re not on anything, are you?”
“No!” Bronwyn said, giving her a disgusted look. “Of course not! You know me better than that.”
“I just thought maybe you had gotten some anti-depressants or something. You know, because of Ryan.”
Bronwyn stood and dust herself off. “Didn’t you see what just happened to me? Didn’t anyone?”
Bethany shook her head. “No, what happened?”
“I was accosted, that’s what! Something’s going on around here and I want to know what it is.” She made her accusations and demands out loud to the crowd who starred back at her. No one spoke, except for Ashley.
“Maybe you should wait for Travis, you know, just to make sure you’re okay.”
She had not seen Travis since early morning when he woke her at the river. He had not been at breakfast, nor had she seen him in town. Now that the girls told her more about this mysterious mountain man, she decided the less she saw of him, the better.
“I don’t need his help.”
Her words were too late. Pushing his way through the crowd, Travis approached and stood face to face with her. His hair was wet with perspiration and blood oozed from his bottom lip. His clothes were dirty and torn. Bronwyn noticed blood on the bottom of his shirt as well. His disheveled appearance, and usually calm countenance, replaced by agitation, surprised her.
“You alright?” his voice demanded an answer.
“I’m fine.” She bit back.
Sherrie stepped in close to him. “She fainted. Ashley and I caught her. We didn’t let her hit the ground.”
He never took his eyes off Bronwyn, much to Sherrie’s dismay.
Bronwyn stared back, half angry, full of sentiments she didn’t fully understand. She was angry with him for causing most of these emotions, and for hiding the secrets she was sure would unravel all of these peculiarities. Yet, he kept these mysteries undisclosed. She had half a mind to shout out accusations and reveal tell-tale information of the cloaked figures that inhabited the surrounding woods. However, she felt as if most of the town already knew. Anything she said might bring a world of dread upon her and the troupe.
