Can't Fight The Moonlight (Whisper Lake Book 3)

by Barbara Freethy

  "Do you have a concussion?" she asked.

  "I do not. I told you that in the car."

  She let out a breath of relief. "Well, I'm happy to have it confirmed." Her gaze moved past him to Hannah. "He's not lying, is he?"

  "No, he's fine," Hannah said with a smile. "I better get back to work."

  "Thanks, Hannah," Lizzie said. "I'll see you tomorrow at happy hour, right?"

  "I wouldn't miss it."

  As Hannah left, Lizzie's gaze swung back to him.

  "Did you really need confirmation from the nurse?" he asked. "I'm not a liar."

  "I don't think you're a liar, but I suspect you like to spin things into whatever you want them to be. And if it's in your best interest to be fine, then that's what you'll be."

  He couldn't argue her point, so he didn't try. "Let's go. I have calls to make."

  "You also still have my phone."

  "I'll give it back to you at the inn. I realize now I should have used that leverage before we came here."

  "It wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked, as they walked toward the door. "You don't have to worry about that cut getting infected now."

  "I wasn't worrying before."

  "Do you ever worry?"

  "If I do, it doesn't last long. I fix whatever is bothering me."

  "And you can always fix it?"

  "Most of the time. Or I let go and move on."

  "You and I are very different," she commented. "I worry about everything, most of which I can't control or fix. And letting go is almost impossible. I don't like to quit even if I probably should."

  A serious expression ran through her gaze, darkening her green eyes. He had a feeling she'd gone to an unhappy place, which surprised him, because it was quite a contrast to the peppy cheerleader who was planning to make lemonade out of her slightly bruised lemons. But then almost immediately, her face lightened, and determination reentered her gaze.

  "At least I don't have to worry about you anymore," she said. "That's one item off my list."

  "You really didn't need to be concerned."

  "You weren't looking at your swollen face; I was. Anyway, let's get you to the inn so we can start turning your obligation into a vacation."

  "And I can get back to work."

  "That, too," she said, giving him a smile that warmed him all the way through.

  He felt a little bemused by his reaction. He didn't want to like her. She'd caused his accident and forced him to see a doctor. She was bossy and pushy, a ridiculously determined optimist, and she'd already given him a big headache. On the other hand, she was also beautiful, and caring and generous. He frowned. Not that any of that mattered. He would only be in Whisper Lake for five days. She was his innkeeper. He was her guest. It was not going to be anything more than that.

  Chapter Three

  As Lizzie drove him to the inn, Justin used her phone to call Eric. Fortunately, he'd had Eric's number memorized since he was eighteen years old.

  When Eric answered, he said, "It's me. I had to borrow a phone."

  "Why? You're never detached from your phone," Eric said, surprise in his voice. "I almost didn't answer. I thought you were a telemarketer."

  "It's a long story. I had a small accident with the car. My phone and computer were damaged."

  "What about you? Are you all right?"

  "I'm okay. I'm more concerned about Anthony and the London trip. Is he on board?"

  "Yes, and we were wondering why you weren't returning our calls or texts," Eric said. "Anthony is booked on a flight tonight, leaving San Francisco at ten p.m. I've brought him up to speed on what I know. He has cleared his schedule for the rest of the day, so he can go over everything with you."

  "Good. I need probably thirty minutes to an hour to find a computer and download my notes from the cloud. I'm hoping everything is there. Let Anthony know that I'll be calling him shortly. How's he feeling about everything?"

  "He probably has more confidence in his abilities than either of us do," Eric said dryly.

  "I like his confidence, but I want to make sure he can back it up with substance."

  "Agreed. So, what happened? You got in an accident? Anyone else involved?"

  "No one else was hurt. I had a run-in with a fence."

  "Probably because you were speeding. I keep telling you to slow down."

  "Well, right now, I'm going very slow." Lizzie couldn't seem to get the truck past thirty miles per hour.

  "Maybe that's what you need."

  "What I need is to get back to work. I'll be in touch." He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Any chance you could give this baby more gas?"

  "This baby is getting plenty of gas. She just doesn't like to run. She's old and tired."

  "Maybe you should invest in a new truck."

  "I'll put it on the list," she said dryly. "Don't worry, she'll get us back to the inn."

  "Hopefully before tomorrow."

  "You're very impatient, Justin."

  "I have a lot to do."

  "So do I. Believe it or not, you're not the only one who has a job."

  "It was your idea to take a side trip to the hospital."

  "To make sure you were all right. But we're almost home."

  He glanced out the window. Whisper Lake was not his home, but it was a picturesque mountain resort town. The downtown area filled with touristy retail attractions: restaurants, bars, gift shops, clothing stores, and antiques shops. There were also organic food cafés and markets, and a variety of coffee and juice bars as well as tea shops.

  The residential streets were a mix of A-frame cabins mixed with more modern homes, as well as a few larger estates. "It feels like a town in transition," he murmured, looking back at Lizzie.

  She nodded. "It's growing like crazy. We're only two hours from Denver and while we're not as fancy as Aspen or Vail, we have great skiing and an amazing lake in the summer. Our retail and entertainment options are exploding. With the ability of more and more people able to work remotely, the full-time population is also growing. It's no longer dead during the elbow seasons of September/October and April/May. It's busy all the time."

  "That must be good for your business. Did you grow up here, Lizzie?"

  "No. I grew up in Denver, but my grandparents lived here, and I spent a lot of summer vacations with them. I always had this town in mind as the place I wanted to settle down in, and when the inn came up for sale, I jumped on it."

  "When was that?"

  "Two years and ten months ago. The first year was spent in a constant state of remodel, but I'm finally getting the inn to where I want it to be. We're starting to get repeat business. Your grandparents are among some of my best customers."

  "They seem quite enthralled by this town and your inn. Although, I don't love the fact that they have to drive two hours from Denver to get here. But my grandfather loves to drive, and the fact that he's turning eighty this year doesn't seem to be slowing him down."

  "That's for sure. They're both very energetic people. They went cross-country skiing when they were here in February. I think they outlasted some of the younger members of the group. And I had a line-dancing class at the inn, which your grandmother excelled at. She really kicked up her heels. I was dancing next to her, and I was huffing and puffing by the end of it, but she was fine."

  He smiled at her words. "She loves to dance."

  "Yes. She told me when you feel the rhythm, you gotta move."

  He laughed, those words ringing a very familiar bell. "She used to tell me that, too. In fact, she's the first girl I ever danced with. She made me dance with her before the ninth-grade dance. She wanted to get me ready. I couldn't get out of that lesson no matter how hard I tried." He actually hadn't tried that hard, because he'd been nervous about the dance, and the lesson had been a good distraction. It had also made him feel less alone at a time when he was spending many days and evenings by himself. Of course, things had gotten a lot worse after that. His smile faded
as less happy memories filled his head.

  "That must have been a sweet moment," Lizzie said. "My dad was my first dance partner. I was ten and there was a father-daughter dance at school. I remember thinking how special I felt to have his attention on me. I was the youngest of five kids, so I didn't often have that. He was a terrible dancer, though," she added with a laugh. "Nowhere near as good as your grandmother."

  "I don't think I thought she was that good when I was fourteen, but she had a lot of enthusiasm. I wasn't any good, either."

  "I'm sure you've improved since then. You'll get to show me some of your moves on Saturday night as there will be dancing after the vow renewal ceremony."

  He groaned. "Really, dancing? It's starting to sound like a full-blown wedding reception. I thought it was supposed to be a simple ceremony."

  "It's small, but I wouldn't say it's simple. There will be a few dozen people, maybe more."

  "Wait. What? Who's coming?" He really did not want to hear his parents' names.

  "Do you know Vanessa and Roger Holt? Your grandparents met the Holts at the inn when they were here in February. The Holts are in their early seventies, and Roger and your grandfather bonded over watching golf while the ladies enjoyed a day shopping. They've apparently stayed in touch since then.

  "Fine, that's two. Who else?"

  "Carlos and Gretchen Rodriguez are also coming. They met your grandparents here at the inn last fall, and I think they took a trip to Florida at Christmas together. Some of the locals in town will be coming. Your grandparents have been very friendly on their trips here, and I encourage a lot of mingling at the inn. It's part of the experience. You'll see."

  "I don't think so. I don't need any more friends."

  "You can't have too many friends."

  "You can have enough," he countered.

  "I disagree. I've made some amazing friendships with some of my guests. I'm actually going to be a bridesmaid in a wedding for a couple who had their romantic getaway weekend at the inn last year. They had a bit of a tiff and I helped them work it out."

  "So, you're a marriage counselor, too?" he asked dryly.

  "I told you—I wear a lot of hats," she said with a grin.

  "Is that the inn?" he asked, as a large four-story manor set in a circle of trees and beautiful landscaped grounds came into the view. The house was Victorian in architecture with a round tower on one side, big bay windows, and a large wrap-around porch. There was a circular drive in front of the manor, with a sparkling fountain sitting on a diamond of grass. A small parking lot was adjacent to the main building, and there appeared to be a barn-like structure behind the manor, maybe a garage or a second unit.

  "That's it," Lizzie said, flinging him a proud smile. "Every time I see it, I get a little thrill that it's mine."

  "You have some land."

  "It's an acre and a half. I hope one day to expand and add some small private cabins, but that's way down the road."

  "This must have been a huge investment."

  "The biggest one I've ever made. Fortunately, I have some backers who believe in me. I can't let them down."

  The fierce note was back in her voice. He had a feeling she would fight to the end, and that kind of determination resonated deep within him. Failure wasn't an option for him, either.

  "At any rate," she continued. "Your fun is about to begin. I hope you're ready."

  He found himself smiling back, even though fun wasn't really on his agenda. But maybe it should be, especially if Lizzie was going to be part of that fun. She was a very pretty woman with her messy ponytail, irresistible smile and laughing green eyes. She had the kind of gaze that drew you in and wouldn't let you go. He frowned at that thought and forced himself to look away from her. It was then he saw the police car out front.

  An officer was talking to an older couple. The dark-haired woman had on black leggings and a long sweater. The gray-haired man was dressed in brown slacks and a white button-down shirt. The man appeared to be in handcuffs.

  "Damn!" Lizzie exclaimed, braking so fast, he had to put his hand on the dashboard to brace himself once more. "Sorry," she threw out, as she jumped out of the truck and jogged over to the group.

  He couldn't help but follow, more than a little curious as to what was going on. The older gentleman didn't look like a typical criminal. Maybe it was a domestic dispute.

  "He was lingering outside my room when I went out shopping," the woman told Lizzie. "And when I came back, he was standing right outside my door again. I think he was trying to get in."

  "I wasn't trying to get in," the man said. "I thought you might have checked out earlier than you thought, and I wanted to find out if the room was empty, or if someone else could have arrived in your stead."

  "Like who? That doesn't make sense. I want him arrested. I don't feel safe," the woman said. "I had to call 911, Lizzie. I went to the front desk, but Shay wasn't there."

  The police officer looked at Lizzie. "You want to weigh in, Lizzie?"

  Justin didn't know why he was surprised the cop knew Lizzie, since so far, she seemed to know everyone they came into contact with.

  "Yes, this is all a big misunderstanding, Brodie," Lizzie replied. Then she turned to the woman. "Patty, I'm sorry no one was at the desk. There should have been someone there to help you. But this man is not a threat. His name is Noah Bennett. He's not stalking you. He's a guest. And I know him very well."

  "Then why is he always outside my room? He's creepy."

  "It's supposed to be my room," Noah put in. "You were going to check out today."

  "Well, I had a change of plans," Patty said, her gaze swinging from Noah to Lizzie. "You told me it was okay for me to stay another night."

  "I did," Lizzie agreed. "And I told you, Noah, that the room would be yours tomorrow."

  "I always have that room this week, Lizzie," Noah said. "You know how important it is to me to be in that room for the eclipse."

  "And you will be. You can move in tomorrow and the eclipse isn't until Friday. You were the one who first booked your stay starting tomorrow," she reminded him.

  "Because I got the date wrong."

  "Yes, but I told you that you could move rooms tomorrow when Mrs. Lawrence checks out. You shouldn't be bothering her."

  "I saw her leave and I thought maybe she'd gone." He paused, cocking his head to the right as his gaze grew reflective. "I smelled her perfume, Lizzie. It was so strong. I thought she'd come back. I guess she didn't. It must have been my imagination."

  Justin frowned at the old man's words. He didn't seem to be talking about Patty anymore.

  "Alice has not come back. I'm sorry, Noah," Lizzie said gently. Turning to Brodie and Patty, she added, "Noah lost someone close to him. The last time they saw each other was here at the inn during a lunar eclipse ten years ago. They stayed in your room, Patty. He's hoping she might show up this week."

  "I come every year at the same time," Noah put in. "I always stay in that room. I have to be there when Alice returns. She said she would come back. And I told her I would be waiting." There was a desperate note in the old man's voice now. "I've been waiting a long time."

  "I know you have," Lizzie said, giving Noah a compassionate look. "And I'm sorry about the mix-up with your room. But if Alice comes back, we'll make sure she finds you." Lizzie's gaze moved to Patty. "I'm very sorry for the worry, Patty. To make it up to you, I'll comp your stay. Will that be all right?"

  "Well, yes, that would work," Patty said slowly, as she gazed at the sad-looking Noah. "What happened with your friend? Why did she disappear?"

  "We were in love, but she had to leave. She had obligations. We promised we would meet again in our room at this beautiful inn the same week in April. I still believe that will happen," Noah answered. "Perhaps it is a false hope, but I hold on, because our love was so strong, so powerful, and so filled with meaning. Without it, I am empty."

  Justin thought Noah was crazy, but Patty seemed completely captivated by the ma
n's moving words, her defensive and aggressive posture softening with each word.

  "I am sorry for scaring you," Noah continued. "I didn't realize you would be fearful of me. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely alive, that my existence is almost invisible. I had forgotten what it was like for someone to really see me, to have any kind of reaction to me. I hope you can forgive me."

  "Maybe we can all have some tea and cookies and talk this out," Lizzie suggested.

  "That would be nice. I would like to hear more about your Alice," Patty said. "I lost my husband eight years ago. I understand what heartbreak feels like. And while I know he is not coming back, I'm not unfamiliar with the desire that he could."

  "I would love to tell you my story," Noah replied eagerly. "Thank you for being so kind."

  Lizzie turned to the police officer. "Brodie, can you take the cuffs off?"

  "I can do that," the officer said, releasing Noah's hands. "I'm assuming no one wants to press charges?"

  "I don't," Patty said.

  "Thank you," Noah said, rubbing his wrists.

  "Let's go inside and get some tea," Patty suggested.

  "You're a very kind woman," Noah told her.

  As the two went up the steps and disappeared into the inn, the police officer gave Lizzie a bemused smile. "Well, you did it again. You calmed them down and turned them into friends. You have a real talent for disarming angry people."

  Justin couldn't help but agree with the officer. Hannah had been right. Lizzie was a force of nature.

  "Patty lost her husband a few years ago. I thought she'd understand Noah's situation," Lizzie explained.

  "Looks like she did. I wouldn't have cuffed him, but before you arrived, she was pretty pissed off and I didn't know what I was dealing with."

  "I know. I understand, Brodie. You were doing your job," Lizzie said.

  "How's everything else going?" the cop asked. "I heard this is a big week for you."

  "It's crazy busy."

  "Like always." The officer turned his gaze on Justin. "I don't think we've met."

  "Justin Blackwood," he said.

  "Brodie McGuire," the officer replied. "Are you a friend of Lizzie's?"