Stranger in the Moonlight

His words “the love of my life” made Penny and Russell look hard at Kim. Penny glanced at Kim’s left hand, obviously noting that there was no ring.

  Kim knew there was more going on in the silence than in the words being spoken. “In case all of you forgot, I’m here to find my ancestor.”

  “And his possible descendants,” Travis said.

  “It seems that there’s a grave site near an old mill, so Travis and I are going to go see it.” She looked directly at Russell. “I think you should go with us. If this place is a ruin it’ll be quiet there. A person can think. Or talk.”

  Russell gave a little smile. “I’m about talked out,” he said and looked at his mother. “What about you? Finished with your New York business?”

  “Completely,” she said.

  “Penny is going to retire,” Travis said to Kim, “and she’s thinking of moving to Edilean. Any good houses there for sale?”

  “Old or new?” Kim asked.

  “Old, small, on at least an acre. I like to garden. But I don’t want it to be too far out of town.”

  “I know a place. It used to be an overseer’s house. It would need some renovation.” Kim turned to Russell. “And what about you? Where do you live?”

  “Not in Edilean,” he said as he put his napkin on the table and stood up. “When do you want to go to this falling down old building? Anyone bring a camera? Notebook and pen?”

  Travis stood up to stand beside Russell. They were exactly the same build and wore the same expressions of challenge on their handsome faces.

  Kim glanced at Penny. Why didn’t Travis see the resemblance? Again Penny looked at Kim with that expression of pleading. Please don’t tell, she seemed to be saying.

  Kim hadn’t made herself a success by being intimidated by anyone, no matter who she worked for. “Tomorrow,” she said softly, and Penny nodded. She had twenty-four hours to tell Travis the truth and if she didn’t, Kim would tell him.

  Travis was waiting for her by the door. “Russ rented a Jeep and he went to get directions.” He lowered his voice. “Kim, if you’d rather that you and I spend time alone together, I can turn this whole thing over to Penny. She’ll find out about Dr. Janes.”

  “No,” Kim said. “I think you should—” She’d almost said “get to know your brother” but she didn’t. She wondered how he was going to react when he found out that his beloved assistant had had an affair with his father. Travis already had enough issues with his father and he didn’t need any more.

  “Think I should what?”

  “Nothing. Here’s Russ. Shall we go?”

  Travis wanted to drive, but Russell wouldn’t let him. “My car, my hands on the wheel,” he said.

  Kim rode in front with Russ. Travis was in back with the handwritten directions.

  “Looks like you failed penmanship,” Travis said. “I can’t read this.”

  “Maybe you should have gone to better schools to improve your comprehension,” Russ shot back. “Oh wait. I went to the same ones you did.”

  “Did you pass any of the classes?” Travis mumbled.

  Kim looked out the window to hide her smile. They sounded like her and Reede.

  The Old Mill was beautiful. It was wide and low, U-shaped, with the middle part one story, flanked by two-story sections. The building had a low stone wall along the front, which made a courtyard in the center of the U.

  For a few moments the three of them stood, looking at the wonderful old building. Part of it had no roof and doves flew out when they walked up. But the two-story section on the left had new tiles on the roof. The little stone wall looked to be falling down, but in places the rocks had been replaced.

  “Someone’s been working on it,” Travis said.

  “That is perfect,” Kim said. She was pointing inside the courtyard to the right. There, behind another low stone wall was a perfect little garden—except that it looked like something out of an eighteenth-century book about gardening. It had gravel paths laid out in the shape of a double circle with an X through it. Inside the eight quarters were wild, weedy-looking plants of different colors, heights, and textures. They had all been carefully, meticulously tended.

  “Unless I miss my guess, those are medicinal herbs,” Kim said, grinning, “and that means there’s still a Tristan here.”

  Travis and Russ looked at each other, then back at Kim.

  “What does that mean?” Russ asked.

  “The Tristans are doctors so . . .” Kim said.

  “Medicinal herbs,” Travis finished for her.

  “All the Tristans have the greenest thumbs imaginable. When we were kids we made Tris plant things for us. If he planted them they grew for sure. When the rest of us put anything in the ground, half the time it didn’t grow.”

  “So maybe a descendant owns this place,” Russ said.

  A tile came rattling down from the roof, hit the ground, and broke.

  “One who can’t afford to restore it,” Travis said, looking at Kim. “I think you are going to find some relatives here.”

  She looked at Russ. “Finding new relatives—ones you didn’t know you had—can be very rewarding, don’t you think?”

  “It can also be terrifying,” he said softly. “Traumatic.”

  “Possibly. But then I always find truth to be better than deep secrets.”

  “Depends on the truth,” Russ said. His eyes were laughing, as though he were greatly enjoying the exchange.

  Travis had walked away to the center of the building and pushed open a door. “Are you two going to spend the day in some cryptic, philosophical exchange or are we going to look around?”

  “I vote that you scale this wall and walk along the ridgepole. Show us what you learned in Hollywood,” Russ said.

  “Only if you show us that you know how to do anything at all,” Travis shot back as he went through the doorway.

  Russ went to the door, and turned back to Kim. “Are you coming?”

  “I . . .” There was something about the herb garden that she liked. Maybe it was the shape of it, or the light on the yellow-green leaves of one of the plants, but she was glad she had her sketch pad with her.

  Travis came back to the door, and went to Kim. “Why don’t you stay here and draw? The kid and I will find the cemetery and record everything.” He kissed the top of her head.

  She was grateful to him for understanding. When a spurt of creativity hit, it needed all her attention. To put it off might allow it to disappear. And too, unlike her history-loving cousins, Kim couldn’t abide cemeteries. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t leave here, don’t talk to strangers, and—”

  “And don’t eat any of those plants,” Russ said.

  “I’ll try to behave myself,” Kim said as she shooed them away. She really did want to put those shapes down on paper.

  Travis kissed her again, this time on the cheek, then went to the door.

  “I thought you were a ladies’ man,” Kim heard Russell say, “but you don’t even know where to kiss the girl.”

  “I could show you a lot about . . .” She heard Travis say as their voices faded into the distance.

  Kim sat down on a flat stone near the plants she most admired. They were tall, with seed-filled heads that looked as delicate as rays of sunshine. She pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of one of them, and sent it to her cousin Tristan. WHAT IS THIS? she wrote.

  Kim started sketching, translating the shapes into jewelry. The chain would be made of long, thin tendrils, like the leaves of the plant. She drew a curved shape with tiny spirals inside it that would clasp one edge of the chain. She’d put a pearl at the center of each one. The earrings had a thin leaf that would curve up a woman’s ear.

  Her phone buzzed; it was Tristan. ANGELICA, he wrote. WHERE DID YOU SEE THAT?

  Standing, she stepped back to get a full view of the garden. When she couldn’t get a good photo that showed the design of it, she climbed on the surrounding wall, snapped, and sent it to Tr
is.

  When she started to get down, the loose rocks slid under her feet, which flew out from under her. She would have fallen but a strong arm caught her.

  It was Red from the B&B.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he helped her down.

  “Fine, but thanks.”

  “I told you this place was dangerous,” he said, his tone sounding severe. “Last year a woman nearly broke her leg here.”

  Kim sat down in the shade on an old doorsill.

  “Don’t lean back,” he said. “That door doesn’t look to be securely on its hinges.”

  She wiped dirt off her trousers and flicked sand out of her hair. “Are you the town watchdog?”

  “More or less,” he said. “I was on the way to the garage but made a detour by here. Looks like my worry paid off. You didn’t come here alone, did you?”

  “No. I have two big strong men with me.”

  He laughed. “Your young man and . . . ?”

  “His—” She hesitated. “His friend.”

  “But not yours?” Bending, Red picked up her sketchbook. “May I?”

  She gestured that it was all right for him to look at what she’d drawn.

  “These are pretty,” he said as he brushed off some dirt. “Do you make these into jewelry?”

  “Yes. I have a shop in Edilean. That’s in—”

  “Virginia!” he said. “I used to go fishing there. Nice little town. I like the old houses. I don’t remember a jewelry store, but I do remember a place that sold baby clothes.” Red sat down on the low wall. “Why would I remember that?”

  “Because they are extraordinary,” Kim said. “The shop is called Yesterday and it’s owned by a lovely woman, Mrs. Olivia Wingate.”

  “Does she make the clothes?”

  “No. Lucy makes most of them.”

  “Lucy Wingate?”

  “No. She’s . . .” Kim trailed off. Everything about Lucy was too much of a secret to talk about. “Do you know who owns this place?” She gestured at the Old Mill.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ve seen a young woman here, but I don’t know who she is.”

  “She’s under forty?”

  He smiled at her good memory. “Yes, she is. I’m sure you could find the property records in the county courthouse.”

  “Today? Saturday?”

  “Oh. Right,” he said. “But then, you don’t want to waste your time with your young man in a dusty old courthouse, do you?”

  “No,” Kim said, “I don’t, especially since we don’t have much time together before he—” She waved her hand.

  Red looked concerned. “You sound like he’s ill. Oh, my dear, please say that isn’t so.”

  “No, no,” Kim said. “He just . . .”

  “He’s in the military? Facing combat?”

  “No,” Kim said. “He has some personal business he has to take care of, so he has to leave.”

  Red sighed in relief. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  Kim snorted. “It has to do with his father and from what I’ve heard . . .” Again, she waved her hand. “That’s . . .”

  “I understand. It’s private, but there’s a reason that I’m known around town as everyone’s grandfather. I’m a good listener.”

  Kim smiled. “That’s what Travis says he is.”

  “And is he?”

  “Yes, very good.”

  “Does he have other good qualities?”

  “Of course. Lots of them.”

  “Then perhaps . . .” He trailed off.

  “Perhaps what?”

  “Sometimes children can’t see their parents clearly. They remember that their mother wouldn’t let them eat what they liked. What they don’t remember is that they wanted to eat paint flaking off an old wall.”

  From what she’d heard, Travis’s father hadn’t been around enough to know what his son was eating. Was he having an affair with Mrs. Pendergast all those years? But she couldn’t say any of that to anyone, especially not to a stranger.

  Red stood up. “I believe I hear your young men returning, so I better go.”

  Kim got up. “Stay and meet them.”

  “Maybe this evening,” he said as he began to walk quickly. “I just remembered that I have a hundred pounds of ice in the back of the truck.”

  “It’s probably melted by now,” she called after him as she watched him hurry out of sight.

  “Were you talking to someone?” Travis asked as he came back into the courtyard, Russ behind him.

  “The caretaker from the B&B stopped by. He—” She broke off as her phone buzzed. It was from Tristan.

  GORGEOUS GARDEN. I WANT TO MEET WHOEVER MADE IT. I SEE COMFREY. IS IT POSSIBLY BOCKING 14? I NEED SOME TO MAKE COMPOST TEA.

  She gave the phone to Travis, he read it, and handed it to Russ. All three of them looked at the herb garden. To a person who knew nothing about herbs, the plants looked very much alike. How could he pick out one from a cell phone photo?

  “Told you,” Kim said. “There’s a Tristan here. So what did you guys find out?”

  Travis spoke first. “Dr. Tristan Janes, born 1861, died 1893, aged thirty-two years.” He turned to Russell. “What did it say on the stone about him?”

  “‘A Well-Loved Man,’” Russ answered. “Not a bad thing to have people say about you. Sorry, but there was no evidence of a wife or kids.”

  “His father was named—”

  “Gustav,” Kim supplied.

  “Right,” Travis said. “No doubt that was told to you by the mysterious man named Red.”

  “What’s mysterious about him?”

  “Just that he disappears whenever we show up,” Travis said.

  “He’s probably heard you’re a Maxwell and he runs away,” Russ said. “Smart man.”

  Kim squinted her eyes at Russell. He was as much a Maxwell as Travis was.

  Russ gave a one-sided grin. He understood Kim’s meaning perfectly. “So what do we do now?”

  “We don’t do anything,” Travis said. “You are going to walk around town and ask questions until you find the owner of this old place. Kim and I are going to look at jewelry.”

  “Oh?” Russ asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “For designs,” Kim said quickly.

  Travis pulled her arm through his. “Keys,” he said to Russell, his hand extended.

  “I need to—”

  “Keys!” Travis said in a voice meant to be obeyed.

  Russ laughed. “Big—Maxwell commands.” He tossed Travis the car keys.

  Kim was sure Russ had been about to say that “big brother commands.”

  With a grin, Russ winked at Kim.

  He’s enjoying this, she thought. And he’s going to delight in dropping this brotherly bombshell on Travis.

  When they were in the car, Kim asked Travis what he and Russ had talked about when they were alone.

  “Nothing much, why?”

  “Did you two keep arguing the whole time you were there?”

  “Naw,” he said, smiling. “That’s all done for your benefit. He was actually good help. There are only six headstones in the little cemetery, and I took photos while Russ wrote down names and dates. I guess your friends will want all the data.”

  “I’m sure they will,” Kim said.

  “So what did you do, other than meet a man in secret?”

  She ignored his comment as she opened her sketchbook. They had reached the center of the little town and Travis expertly parallel parked the car, turned off the engine, and took the book to look at Kim’s designs.

  “So this slides around a woman’s neck?” he asked.

  “Yes, and the earrings go up.”

  “Not down? Not grazing her shoulders?”

  “I’m not much on chandelier earrings.”

  “Me neither. They get in a man’s way.” He leaned across the seat and kissed her earlobe. She had on small gold earrings with stones of citrine just off center.

  She smiled a
t him, glad he’d really looked at her drawings. Most people just glanced at them and said how pretty they were, but they couldn’t actually visualize her designs.

  “Want to wander through every store or go directly to the one and only jewelry shop in town?”

  She looked at him in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re a man who likes going shopping with women? Going in and out of stores and looking at every little thing in the shop?”

  “Well, I . . .” He looked out the windshield.

  “Oh, I see. You’re just being polite. You added the jewelry bit on the end to entice me there.”

  “I’m glad you’re not a judge in a courtroom or I’d never be able to put anything over on you. I tell you what, today is yours. I’ll go in and out of every one of these insufferably cute little stores, but in the future . . .”

  “I’m on my own? You’ll get a beer while I wander?”

  “Pretty much,” he said, and they smiled at each other. That they were speaking as though their future together was set in place, a given, a done deal, was pleasing to both of them.

  They got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk, holding hands. So normal, Kim thought. So . . . so satisfyingly, deeply normal.

  “Where to first?” Travis asked.

  “There.” Kim pointed to a used bookstore across the street. Its windows were covered in years of dirt and the few books she could see had curled, faded covers.

  “Local history, right?” Travis asked. When Kim nodded, he raised her hand and kissed it. “Jewelry store last? To be savored?”

  “Exactly,” she said.

  In the bookstore Kim was glad to see that Travis didn’t mind going through boxes that had twenty years of dust coating them and digging for out-of-print books and local pamphlets. He found a cookbook put together in the twenties by the women of a local church.

  They looked through it, saw there was no contributor named Janes, so Kim said it was no use to them. But Travis said a person never knew when relatives were going to turn up. Kim started to ask what he meant by that but he’d walked away.

  He talked with the shop owner while Kim went through the shelves of books on the history of jewelry. She chose a big one on Peter Carl Fabergé.

  They left the store with a box full of books, and Travis put them in the Jeep he’d commandeered from Russell.