Shepherd Moon

by Rochelle Alers

  Sniffling, she wiped angrily at her tears with the back of her hand. “I couldn’t stay, Emery. Not whenever I saw you I saw Errol. If I didn’t go away I would’ve lost my mind, because the pain was too much to bear.” Pulling back her shoulders, she lifted her chin in a gesture that indicated defiance. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  Turning quickly, she ran down the porch steps to where she’d parked the truck. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she tried turning the key. The engine caught and with a squeal of rubber hitting the concrete, she sped away from Emery and the shocked expression freezing his features.

  * * *

  Emery did not move, unmindful of the cold air nipping at his exposed skin. Guilt slapped at him, leaving invisible welts as he recalled Rhianna’s impassioned admission. What if she had taken her own life? He did not want to imagine how the act would’ve impacted her parents.

  At the age of twenty-six his dream of becoming a veterinarian was deferred when he found himself surrogate father to two younger brothers and sisters. He dropped out of veterinary school, took control of his father’s general contracting business, and divided what free time he had to checking homework, refereeing squabbles between sixteen-year-old Kirk, Paul, fourteen, thirteen-year-old Brielle, and eight-year-old Deborah. He attended back-to-school night conferences with their respective teachers, as well as concerts and intramural games.

  A fellow student whom he had hoped to marry had ended their relationship because she wasn’t prepared to take on a ready-made family.

  Emery had sacrificed a career he’d wanted all of his life, marriage, and children of his own for his grieving siblings. And, not once had he ever regretted it. The day he escorted Debbie to her dorm room at Penn State made everything worthwhile. His troubled little sister had turned her life around, made the high school honor roll two years in a row, and was accepted into the college of her choice.

  No, he thought, he hadn’t done too badly. He was now Uncle Emery to three nieces and two nephews. Brielle had called to inform him that everyone was invited to her house in Scranton, Pennsylvania, for Christmas. It had taken years, but the Sutherlands had accepted the loss of their loved ones and had begun celebrating the holiday again.

  Stepping back into the house, Emery slammed the door so hard the windows rattled. After he’d gone to Campy’s to unload on Rhianna, he’d returned home feeling like a bully. He’d blindsided her, spewed his venom, then walked away like a coward.

  He closed his eyes, but he could not shut out the sight of Rhianna’s tears. He would more willingly face a rabid dog than see a woman cry.

  Emery opened his eyes and expelled a lungful of air. How could he send Reid Campbell a plant and card wishing him a speedy recovery, after all Reid had done for the Sutherlands, then turn around and insult the man’s daughter? He may have been getting older, but certainly not wiser. He couldn’t retract what he’d said to Rhianna, but he would try to make amends—to her and to Reid.

  The sound of a kettle’s whistle shattered the silence in the house—a six-bedroom house that was much too big for one person. He’d thought about selling it when he sold Sutherland and Sons General Contracting, but once he committed to breeding sheep for a research project, he’d changed his mind. It was a three-year study, which meant he would be forced to remain in Shepherd until he was almost forty. Then he would decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

  CHAPTER 4

  Rhianna returned to Campy’s experiencing both relief and shame. She’d disclosed to Emery why she could not continue to live in Shepherd, but she had also told him something she’d never revealed to another living soul. The inability to cope with grief and loss had sucked her into a morass where she hadn’t wanted go on living. But she had survived and moved on with her life, while accepting the reality that Errol was never coming back.

  She hung up her jacket in the office and made her way to the kitchen. By the time Gary arrived she’d brewed several pots of coffee, diced ingredients for omelets, emptied the dishwasher, and set out place settings on the tables in the booths.

  “Very nice,” he crooned, staring at the plastic bowl filled with diced ham, onion and green and red peppers. “Your daddy taught you well,” he said, smiling.

  She returned his smile. “Thank you.”

  Washing his hands in a stainless steel sink, he gave Rhianna a sidelong glance. “Are you still thinking about running a bed-and-breakfast?”

  There had been a time when all she’d talked about was turning Campy’s into a B&B. That was before she’d earned a degree in business with a concentration in hotel and restaurant management. Instead of serving three meals a day, she’d planned to offer the patrons a sumptuous brunch and gourmet dinners.

  “I haven’t thought about that in a long time,” she admitted. The telephone rang, and she picked up the receiver on the wall phone. “Good morning. Campy’s.”

  “Rhianna, this…this is Nicole.”

  “What’s wrong, Nicole?” She hadn’t recognized the waitress’s voice.

  “My throat is on fire. I hope I don’t have strep.”

  “Have you been to the doctor?”

  “I’m going to the walk-in clinic as soon as it opens.”

  “Let me know if you’re going to need more time off.”

  “I will. But I hate to leave you stranded.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Nicole. Just feel better.”

  She ended the call, reaching for an apron. “Nicole won’t be in today,” she told Gary. “She has a sore throat.”

  He squinted at the board with the personnel work schedules. “You can call Penny and have her come in.”

  Rhianna shook her head, tying the apron around her waist. “Penny hasn’t had a day off in more than a week. I’ll fill in for Nicole.”

  Gary lifted a gray eyebrow. “Are you sure you remember how to wait tables?”

  She gave him a saucy smile. “Watch me.”

  The last time she attempted to wait tables was the year she turned fourteen. Then, when she’d tried balancing several plates on her arm as she’d seen other more experienced waitresses do, it spelled disaster. Food and broken dinnerware littered the floor. Undaunted, she’d apologized and returned to the kitchen to duplicate the order.

  Picking up a pad and pencil now, she walked into the dining room. The early morning regulars were already seated in booths and at the counter. Those who commuted to New York City usually came on the weekends, but those who were either retired or worked locally breakfasted at Campy’s several times each week.

  She hesitated, but didn’t stop when she spied Emery sitting in the booth he’d occupied before. He’d shaved, and he wore a crewneck sweater over his jeans, yet she could not forget the image of his stubbly jaw, defined pectorals, and abs that lingered around the fringes of her mind. Although crying and shaken she still had been aware of how he looked standing barefoot in the doorway with the soft glow of light throwing his body in relief.

  Their gazes met and fused as she approached his table. Pencil poised, she smiled. “May I take your order?”

  His dark eyes widened as he noticed for the first time why his brother had been so taken with Rhianna Campbell. She was enchanting. Not classically beautiful, but delicate, ardently feminine. She wore no makeup, not even lipstick, yet something about her radiated a sensuality he hadn’t noticed in any other woman he’d met.

  Her lashes swept down across her cheekbones, and he was lost, lost and hypnotized by a woman who, if she’d married his brother would’ve been a part of his family, someone he would’ve regarded as a sister; however, his thoughts were anything but brotherly.

  “I’ll have the usual.”

  Rhianna lifted an eyebrow. “And that is?”

  Relaxing, Emery rested an arm over the back of the seat. “Oatmeal with low-fat milk, a large orange juice, one slice of wheat toast with strawberry preserves and black coffee.”

  She scrawled his order on the pad, using symbols only she c
ould decipher. “Decaf or regular?” There came a noticeable pause and she glanced at Emery, believing he hadn’t heard her, but he was staring at her as if she were a stranger.

  Suddenly it hit her. Errol and Emery may have been identical twins, but there were subtle differences. Emery’s face was leaner, more angular, his jaw stronger, and his eyes were not as dark as Errol’s had been.

  “What did you say?” he asked, as if coming out of a trance.

  “I asked whether you wanted regular of decaf coffee.”

  “Regular.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

  Rhianna knew she had to get away from Emery before she embarrassed herself. She’d found herself drawn to her late-fiancé’s brother not because of their marked resemblance, but because he emanated a virility that stoked a sensual fire that had been banked for far too long.

  She gave Gary Emery’s order, and, as she returned to take the orders of the diners sitting at the counter debating Sunday’s football scores, Anna appeared. She looked awful.

  “Have you been you sleeping?” she asked Anna in a harsh whisper. There were dark circles under her eyes that made them appear sunken in their sockets.

  Anna sighed audibly. “Not really. I don’t like sleeping alone.” A sad smile trembled over her lips. “The only time your father and I haven’t shared a bed was when I went to the hospital to have you. Sometimes he makes me so mad that I want to spit tacks, but after being married to the same man for almost forty years I find myself more in love with him with each passing day.”

  Wrapping her arms around her mother’s shoulders Rhianna kissed her forehead. “I want you to go back to bed. Gary and I have everything under control.”

  “Who’s going to make dinner?”

  “What are the Monday night specials?”

  “Roast chicken and meatloaf.”

  “I’ll handle it,” she said, smiling.

  “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

  “Of course I’m sure. It’s been a long time, but I still know my way around a kitchen. Now, please go upstairs and try to get some sleep.” Her father, a professional chef, had taught her to cook before she celebrated her twelfth birthday.

  Anna nodded. “Wake me up in time to go to the hospital.”

  “We’ll go together.” She would go see her father early because she wanted to be back in time to help Gary prepare the dishes for the dinner menu.

  She kissed her mother again unaware of a pair of dark eyes watching the tender interchange. The sound of a ringing bell propelled her into action as Rhianna walked into the kitchen to pick up her orders.

  * * *

  Rhianna entered Campy’s with her step lighter than it had been since her return to Shepherd. Her father’s neurologist reported that he planned to bring Reid out of the coma over the next twenty-four hours. But Reid would remain in the hospital for at least another week undergoing tests to make certain he hadn’t sustained any permanent brain damage.

  Her shoulder bag bulged with the number of cards that had accompanied the plants and flowers crowding every flat surface in Reid’s hospital room. Whenever she got a free moment she planned to send out thank you cards to those wishing her father a speedy recovery.

  The first thing she noticed, as the storm door closed behind her, was a large vase filled with a bouquet of white baby roses and blue and green hydrangeas sitting on the counter. A satin ribbon in a soft seafoam green circled the mouth of the crystal vase. The flowers had been delivered to the restaurant instead of to the hospital.

  Linda, the waitress who worked the three-to-nine shift, gave her a wide grin. “Somebody must really like you, Rhianna.”

  She stopped in midstride. “What?”

  Linda, a single mother with three children, had gone to school with Rhianna. The attractive blond married her high school sweetheart a month after graduating, had three children in rapid succession, then left her husband because he preferred sleeping to working.

  “The flowers are for you.”

  Rhianna walked to the counter and removed the envelope stapled to the clear blue cellophane protecting the delicate blooms. She took out a card, her heart stopping, then starting up again as she read the bold script: SORRY—Please call me—Emery. He’d written his phone number below his name.

  He’d apologized with one word, a request, and his name and number scrawled on a tiny square of vellum. Emery hadn’t changed that much. He was known as the quiet twin, whereas Errol talked enough for both of them.

  She slipped the card into the envelope and tucked it into her bag with the others. Emery had sent her flowers as a peace offering, and she would accept his apology. Both of them had said things they could never retract, things about the past that would remain in the past.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me who sent them?” Linda asked, her hazel eyes filled with amusement and curiosity.

  Rhianna gave her a saucy smile. “Nope.”

  Linda rolled her eyes. “Damn. You’re not even back a week and already some guy is chasing you.”

  “What makes you so certain they’re from a guy?”

  “The colors. A woman would’ve selected either pink, red, or even yellow roses.”

  She regarded the pale, cool colors. “You’re probably right.”

  “So, are they from a man?”

  “I’m not telling,” Rhianna teased. She picked up the vase and carried it into the office.

  She wouldn’t tell Linda who had sent her the flowers because she probably would misinterpret Emery’s intent. He only wanted to apologize, not court her.

  And she would call him—after she closed Campy’s.

  * * *

  Emery took off his boots, leaving them on a mat in the mudroom. He’d spent the past three hours checking the two-dozen ewes in the barn he’d built before committing to the research study. All but two ewes had come into heat. He’d mated them with a lone young ram and Emery hoped the ewes would lamb in either late April or early May.

  He stripped off his jeans, sweater and underwear, leaving them in a large wicker basket next to a front-loading, stackable washer-dryer. The telephone rang as he walked out of the mudroom to the half-bath off the kitchen. He picked up the receiver on a wall phone before the third ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Emery?”

  A slow smile spread across his face when he heard the contralto voice. “Yes, Rhia.”

  “You wanted me to call you.”

  “Yes, I did.” His smile faded. “I wanted to apologize—”

  “You did that with the flowers,” she countered, interrupting him. There came a pregnant pause. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

  He smiled again. “I’m glad you like them. I want to apologize,” he repeated, “and I want to talk to you about something.”

  There came another pause. “What about?”

  “It’s something I don’t want to discuss on the phone.” He glanced at the clock over the sink. It was nine forty-five. “Are you still in the restaurant?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Wait there for me. I’ll be over in half an hour.”

  “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather come to your place.”

  Rhianna’s suggestion that they meet at his house left Emery momentarily speechless. He tried coming up with reasons why she didn’t want him to come to Campy’s, but drew a blank.

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll be over in about forty minutes,” she said.

  “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

  “Goodbye, Emery.”

  “Later, Rhia.”

  Emery hung up and walked into the bathroom. He hadn’t expected Rhianna to accept his apology, but was glad she had, because it would make it easier for him to propose something he believed would absolve him of his guilt and help her father.

  * * *

  Rhianna pulled into the driveway and parked behind Emery’s pickup truck. Motion sensors brightened the area like daylight. She
got out and walked the short distance to the expansive wraparound porch. A large live pine wreath festooned with tiny fragrant pinecones and a red velvet bow was attached to the front door. She rang the bell and within seconds it opened.

  “Please come in,” Emery said, greeting her with a friendly smile.

  Warmth, the scent of Emery’s cologne, and burning wood wrapped around her, beckoning and welcoming her into his home.

  Wiping her booted feet on the thick straw doormat, she returned his smile, her gaze moving quickly over him. The last time she’d come she’d caught him off guard and in a state of half-dress. Tonight he wore a faded sweatshirt with his jeans. A pair of thick white cotton socks covered his feet.

  “How’s your dad coming along?” Emery asked.

  “The doctor’s prognosis is very encouraging. Hopefully, he’ll be out of the hospital some time next week.” Rhianna did not tell Emery about her father’s head injury.

  She stepped into the entryway and went completely still. Recessed lights, highly polished parquet flooring, and a massive fieldstone fireplace in the living room caught her immediate attention.

  “You’ve made some changes.”

  Emery nodded. “I’ve made a lot of changes. Let me take your coat, then I’ll give you a tour.”

  She shrugged out of the coat, handing it to him. He hung it on a brass coatrack. Leaning against a wall, she bent over to remove her boots, but was thwarted when Emery hunkered down and caught her ankle, forcing her to rest a hand on his shoulder to maintain her balance.

  Rhianna swallowed a moan as she registered heat and solid muscle under her fingertips. What was there about Emery Sutherland that made her knees shake like gelatin and her pulse beat a little too quickly?

  Despite their uncanny resemblance to each other, Errol and Emery’s personalities were complete opposites. Errol had been outgoing, exhibiting an I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude, whereas Emery was serious, brooding, and studious. Girls literally threw themselves at Emery, who’d always politely declined their advances. He was focused on one thing: becoming a veterinarian. He graduated from high school and enrolled in college, whereas Errol went to work for his father.