Harvest Moon (Brook Haven Romance Book 1)

by Charlene Bright

  Drake put his fingers in the sides of his mouth and whistled. Hooter gave him a cursory over-the-shoulder glance and then went back to his incessant barking. For a few seconds Drake considered going back inside, popping in a pair of ear plugs that he used for target shooting, and going back to sleep. However, he could see out of the corner of his eye that the light in his Uncle Mac’s little house up the road had come on and he knew there’d be no going back to sleep for him. With a grumble and a curse, he set off down the long dirt road to where Hooter stood, expecting to find him with a snake or a possum cornered against the mailbox.

  Drake lived on his family’s old farm. His grandparents had owned it first and then Drake’s parents after that. He was a late-in-life baby for his parents. Before that, they’d taken care of his mother’s brother Mac for several years after he’d been in a bad car accident. He was a paraplegic and had to go through a lot of extensive therapy before he was able to live on his own. By the time Mac was doing well enough to spend more than a few hours a day in his own house, his mother and father were both well into their thirties.

  Drake’s mother told him once that his father had tried to discourage her desire for a baby then, but she wasn’t having it. She’d just turned forty when she found out she was expecting. As it turned out, his father was as happy, if not happier, than she was when he found out about it.

  Drake was born on his mother’s forty-first birthday, and his parents both doted on him. His father taught him how to hunt and fish and work on cars. He was also the reason Drake did what he did for a living - his father could build or fix anything, and although he wasn’t technically a handyman, the neighbors all seemed to call him when they needed something. His father never said no, and Drake loved following him around and watching him work.

  His mother taught him more than he could list, but mostly he had her to thank for his easygoing attitude about life. She was an animal lover and a nature enthusiast, and she instilled her love of those things into her son. She also had a big garden on the farm where she grew fresh vegetables. Every Sunday morning, she’d pick whatever was ripe and in season and then wash and package it all up in plastic containers so that it was ready to eat. Then she’d load it all into the back of the old pickup that Drake still drove today and take it into town to sell at the market. Mostly, what she did was hand it out for free to those in need. She had a regular spot out in front of the church, and she came to be known in town simply as the vegetable lady.

  She didn’t just hand out the vegetables. She also had a section of her garden where she grew herbs, which she’d use to make salves and lotions. She would sit for hours and just talk to anyone who seemed to need it at the time. She handed out advice when she was asked for it, and she never judged.

  Drake still kept the vegetable garden growing, and he still took the vegetables into town on Sundays to the market. He also had his mother’s recipes for the herbal salves and remedies, and he’d taken to making them too because he’d gotten so many requests. Sometimes his Uncle Mac would go into town with him and sell statues and carvings he made in his shop.

  Sundays were the only days Drake refused work. To him, going to the market was a way to keep his mother’s memory alive. To the people in the community, it was a service many of them had come to depend on.

  When he made it to the end of the road, he tried once again to get Hooter to hush. The dog gave him another quick glance but kept one eye on whatever was in the grass underneath the lilac bushes at the edge of the road. Drake saw the bush wiggle slightly and he heard the rustle of the deep grass. Whatever Hooter had found was still alive.

  Drake wished he’d grabbed his rifle just in case. The last thing he’d shot was a timber rattlesnake that had somehow found its way onto Uncle Mac’s back porch. Shooting things, however, was contrary to his very nature, and he’d only done it when the situation had demanded it.

  With a deep breath and a small prayer that whatever it was wouldn’t snap off his arm or inject him with venom, he reached down and moved the bush. Two sets of eyes glowed up at him. Reluctantly, he lowered his flashlight so it illuminated the frightened faces of two baby red foxes. One of them had what looked like a dog bite on his hind quarters, and the other looked more than a little bit reluctant to leave the injured one to fend for himself.

  “Well, look what you found, Hooter. Hi guys. Where’s your mama?” As if Hooter understood, he once again began to bark and wag his tail the way he did when he wanted Drake to follow him. Drake let the bush fall back down gently to cover the babies and followed the yellow Lab three or four feet up to the road. It was an old country road that led to town in one direction and dead-ended where the forest got too dense on one side and the altitude too high on the other. Drake’s place sat about two miles from the forest, so other than mild traffic to and from his place, the road was hardly ever used.

  Hooter pointed him toward what had agitated him. Drake shone his light onto the black asphalt and found the fox mama. She’d been hit by a car, and from the looks of it, it hadn’t been that long ago. Drake briefly wondered what someone was doing on this road in the middle of the night.

  He spent some time walking back and forth to the barn to get what he needed to move the poor dead animal out of the road. He put her in a plastic container to bury her later, and then he went back to see about the kits. They were still there under the bush; they’d curled up together and gone to sleep.

  Drake opened the cat carrier he’d brought back with him and with one big hand, he scooped them into it. They woke up as he did and before he closed the small door and latched it, they were both howling at him in an extremely annoying, high-pitched way. He tried making soothing sounds as he carried them back to the house, but they were agitated and having none of it. As he sat the small carrier down on the porch, he heard his phone ringing from inside the house. It was almost five a.m., way too early for anyone to be calling him except Uncle Mac.

  “I’m sorry. Did Hooter wake you?” Drake answered.

  “Nah, you know I don’t sleep much. I just wanted to make sure everything’s all right up there.”

  “Hooter found a couple of baby foxes … their mother didn’t make it across the road.”

  “Aw … ya know I almost called you about all that racket goin’ on out there.”

  “Um … you did just call me, Uncle Mac.”

  He laughed. “My legs don’t work, but my mind still does. I meant before, when that car or whatever it was kept racing up and down the hill. You didn’t hear it?”

  “No, I guess I was sleeping pretty soundly.”

  “You must have been. Sounded like a V-8 to me, and they had to be goin’ over a hundred miles an hour. They raced back and forth three or four times, and each time they’d get ready to turn around, they’d smoke the brakes. I think they may have even been hitting the E-brake.”

  “Did you see the car?”

  “Nah, from where the house sits, I can hear the road but I can’t see it.”

  “Okay. It was probably teenagers, but I’ll keep an eye out.”

  “You need any help with those kits?”

  Drake looked down at the agitated little creatures, and in spite of himself, he thought about how cute they were. “I’m not sure what to do with them to be honest.”

  “Well, the first thing they probably need is some hydration. Maybe you should call Sam. Are you working today?”

  “Yeah, I’m supposed to be over at the Harvest Moon Inn at seven.”

  “Well, if you can’t get ahold of Sam, bring them to me and I’ll sit for ya.”

  Drake laughed. “Sit for me, huh? So you think I’ve already adopted them?”

  “I know you. You’re too much like your mama to turn those babies out on their own. The coyotes would eat them in a heartbeat. This farm used to be a menagerie of the animals my sister collected.”

  Drake laughed. He knew that was true. As a kid, he could bring home any stray he found in the woods and his mother would never turn
it away. He looked back down at the bloody back leg of the injured kit. “Yeah, it looks like one of them may have gotten a bite before Mama Fox hid them under my bush. She was headed back across the road. It makes me wonder if there’s more on the other side.”

  “You’re gonna go look, aren’t you?”

  “I might just take a peek for curiosity’s sake.”

  Mac was laughing when he hung up. Drake checked the time again. It was closer to five-thirty. He put on a pair of thick gloves and reached into the door of the holder for the injured kit. It began howling and screeching as he pulled it out, and the little booger was even trying to bite him. He took him into the bathroom and washed and cleaned up his leg. He bandaged it with medical tape, the whole while struggling just to hang on to the wiggly little creature. After he finished cleaning him up, he called his friend Sam.

  “Drake, what’s up?” Sam sounded groggy, like he had been awakened from a deep sleep.

  “Hey, Sam, I’m sorry to call so early—”

  “You forgot that I’m in California, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, damn it! Yeah, I did. I’m so sorry. It’s a lot earlier than I thought. I can—”

  “It’s okay, Drake, I’m up now. What’s going on?”

  “Someone ran over Mama Fox and I found two of her kits.”

  “Oh man. Do you have a syringe and a heating pad?”

  “Um, I’ll have to look for them both, but I think so.”

  Sam was the town veterinarian and had grown up in Brook Haven with Drake. He had told Drake he was going to California for a convention that week, but Drake had been so busy with work it had slipped his mind.

  “Okay, so here is what you need to do.”

  Drake spent another precious half hour on the phone with his friend. By the time he did what he needed to do and dropped the kits off with his uncle, he was running a half hour late already. In spite of that, he just had to stop and look around a little bit across the road. He didn’t see any signs of more kits. Unfortunately, that probably meant something else had already gotten them. As he drove through town on his way to the bed and breakfast, he was sorely tempted to stop at Huckleberry’s and grab a cup of coffee but decided he didn’t have time. He looked at his watch and told himself he was already late enough.

  As soon as he drove up close to the house, he saw the beautiful owner kneeling on the front porch with a hammer that was so big he was surprised she could hold it up. He tried to shake off the remnants of the dream he’d had about her the night before as he stepped out of the truck. He realized it was to no avail, however, when she glanced over her shoulder at him and he got another look at those cool blue eyes.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” she said. Her tone was a little short. He wondered if she was angry with him for being late. Maybe he should have called.

  “I’m sorry I’m late—”

  “It’s fine.”

  There was no mistaking that she really was annoyed. “Really, I’m sorry. I had some unexpected company this morning—”

  “It’s really fine. It’s just that my mother forgot about the rotten boards we talked about. She fell through the porch this morning—”

  “Oh my God! Is she all right?” Now he really felt bad.

  “Yeah, she twisted her ankle a bit, I think.” She began hammering a long nail into the piece of plywood she’d covered the hole with. As she hammered, the wood around the nail split further and he heard her mumble a curse.

  “We should probably just replace most of this. It’s pretty warped and rotted.”

  She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and looked up at him again. Damn, she’s pretty, he thought once again.

  “How much will that cost?”

  “I’d have to call and get a price on the lumber, but I have a buddy over at the lumber yard that’ll give me a pretty good deal.”

  Drake could tell by the way she furrowed her pretty brow that she was feeling stressed even before she said, “Am I being overly optimistic thinking this can all be finished and I can open in time for the Harvest Festival?”

  “Optimistic is good,” he told her with a smile. “Hey, why don’t I call my buddy and have him get the lumber ready, then you can ride into town with me and we’ll get some breakfast?”

  He couldn’t read the look on her face, but suddenly he wasn’t very optimistic. “I should really stay around here. I just have so much to do.”

  “Okay … yeah, I understand. Well, I’ll call him and head into town. Can I bring you something from the diner?”

  Again, there was that look. “No, I’ve had breakfast, but thanks. Will you be long?” The last was said with a little edge to it.

  “I’ll get mine to go,” he said with a wink. Sophie didn’t look amused.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Mother! What are you doing?” Sophie walked into the kitchen just in time to see her mother hobbling in through the other door.

  “I was just going to put on a pot of coffee—”

  “I told you to call me if you needed anything. You need to stay off that ankle.”

  “Sophie, I’m fine, honey. It’s just a little sore. You need to take a breath and relax. You can’t fix everything all by yourself.”

  “Well, it seems I might have to,” she said, pulling out a chair for her mother. “Sit.” Her mother rolled her eyes but sat down.

  “I’m sorry, I’d be helping you but you’re the one—”

  “Oh, Mom! I’m sorry. I’m not talking about you. It’s that carpenter/handyman I hired. He just seems so laid back about things. He was half an hour late this morning, and he’s been gone for over an hour now to pick up lumber and—get this—breakfast.”

  Her mother smiled. “A man does have to eat, right?”

  Sophie drew her eyebrows together and looked at her mother. “Don’t you think he should have done that before he came to work?”

  “Well, things happen sometimes.”

  “Why are you defending him?”

  “I don’t know. Why do you want to be angry with him?”

  “Want to be? Are you implying that I was looking for an excuse to be angry with him?”

  “I just don’t really see that he’s done anything so bad. People live life at a slower pace in these small towns. I thought that was the whole point actually of buying the B&B here.”

  “It is, and I understand that, but I have a deadline.”

  “It’s a self-imposed deadline, and it seems to me that it might be putting a lot of undue stress on you. Would it be so bad, Sophie, if you had to open a week or two later than you planned?”

  “Yes!” Sophie slammed the coffee pot down in the sink. It was only luck that kept it from breaking. She saw her mother jump slightly at the noise from the corner of her eye and felt bad instantly. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so thrilled to be here and be doing this, and not once in my life did I ever question my ability to succeed … until now.”

  Sophie could feel the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. Her mother struggled to her feet and opened her arms. Sophie went over and melted into them. Her mother held her for a few minutes and ran her hand down the length of her daughter’s hair, and then she held her back so she could see her face.

  “Sophie, it’s human nature to second-guess ourselves. But you can’t let it consume you. Changing your plans is not the same as failing at them. I know you can do this, but there’s something that you can’t lose sight of in the process.”

  “What’s that?” Sophie asked while sniffling.

  “The joy of the process. Keep that joy and enthusiasm. Hold on to it. Otherwise this place will become just a job to you. Be willing to be flexible, and don’t write things in stone just yet. Sometimes things don’t work out the way you planned for them to, but that doesn’t mean it’s a loss or a failure.”

  Sophie nodded. She knew her mother was right. Opening for the weekend of the festival would be perfect, but opening
after that would still be opening, and it would still be good. She just wished that knowing she was right was the same as feeling it. Sometimes, Sophie felt like she was wound as tightly as a clock and was afraid that one of the springs was going to suddenly snap. “I will try to think of it that way,” she told her mother. “Sit down. I’m going to make that coffee.”

  It was another hour before Drake got back with the lumber. By the time he started pulling up the boards on the front porch, it was a little before noon. Sophie was doing her best to hold on to her patience with him but hot or not, he was making it difficult.

  While Drake worked on the porch, Sophie busied herself with things that needed cleaning inside the house and trying to get her mother to stay off her feet. It was around four thirty when she heard Drake’s phone ring out on the porch. A few minutes later, he knocked on the door and said, “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to take off. I’ll come back early tomorrow—”

  “Take off? You’ve only technically been working for a little over four hours—”

  “Sophie!” her mother said from behind her.

  “I’m sorry,” Drake said. His face looked truly remorseful, and it was easy for Sophie to look into those chocolate eyes and want to forgive him, but at this rate, they’d never get things done. She was beginning to regret not hiring the bigger firm from the next town over.

  “Sorry isn’t going to get the work done around here.”

  “Yes, ma’am. If it wasn’t important—”

  “Just go, I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to leave and she said, “Drake.”

  “Yes?”

  “I hope tomorrow will be a better day.”

  “Me too,” he said. She watched him go and wondered for a second what the phone call was about. Deciding that it didn’t matter—or it shouldn’t if he was a professional—she felt angry again. When she met her mother’s eyes and saw the disappointment there, she felt just a little bit ashamed as well.