Moonlight Masquerade

by Jude Deveraux

  He glanced back at her and when he saw the worried look on her face he frowned. A minute later his cell buzzed. He read the message, then handed his phone over the seat to Sophie.

  FIFTY LBS OF SCULPTOR’S CLAY AND TOOLS TO BE DELIVERED TO STUDIO OF RENTAL HOUSE. OKAY? BETSY

  Sophie read the text three times before handing the phone back to Reede. When he raised his eyebrows in question, she gave a quick nod and turned to look out the window. Just this once, she thought. Just this one more time she’d let herself be taken care of. Tomorrow for sure she was going to regain control of her own life.

  When Reede told the man driving the car to take them to the newly rented house, he glanced at Sophie to see if she agreed. Yes. The sooner she started on the sculptures the faster they’d get done, then she could begin making soups and sandwiches.

  After the man dropped them off, she and Reede stood there for a moment, not seeming to know what to do next. But then the wind changed and the temperature dropped. Sophie rubbed her upper arms as she followed him into the house.

  It was just as she’d seen it the first time, with little furniture, but the late sun coming through the sun-room windows made it very welcoming. The rooms looked to be cleaner, but it still needed a new coat of paint. Three stools had been placed at the open kitchen counter, and Sophie sat on one.

  Reede walked around the counter and looked in the refrigerator. It was full of food. “Looks like the girls did the shopping.”

  “Do they wait on you hand and foot?”

  “They do for Tristan but not for me.”

  “From what I heard, you don’t deserve being waited on.”

  Reede chuckled. “True. At least not until you came, I didn’t.” He was rummaging in the deli drawer and pulled out packets of sandwich meat. “Hungry?”

  “Yes.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I should look in the Treeborne cookbook and make something.”

  “Are you going to be mad at me about that?” he asked.

  “What makes me angry is your presumption. All I asked you to do was drop off a package and that’s what you should have done.”

  Her tone didn’t bother him. “What are you so afraid of when it comes to this Treeborne guy?” Reede was slicing a tomato and at that name his hand clutched the handle hard. “Are you still in love with him?”

  Sophie took a moment to answer. “If love can be killed by one sentence was it really love?”

  “If that sentence is someone telling you to get lost, then yes one sentence can kill love.” He was putting mayonnaise on four slices of bread. “What if this guy . . . Carson?”

  “Carter.”

  “What if this Carter came here and said he didn’t mean what he said, that his father made him say it? Would you forgive him?”

  Sophie took a breath. “It’s almost as though you know him.”

  “I’ve met his type, afraid to stand up for what he believes. Afraid of himself and what he might do.”

  “Like run off with something as low as a town girl?”

  “Is that what he said about you?” Reede asked as he put the sandwiches together and cut them on the diagonal.

  “He said . . . ”

  Reede waited for her to finish.

  “He said that I’m the type of girl you go to bed with but you don’t marry.” Sophie looked at Reede with her heart in her eyes. On the long drive from Texas to Edilean, in her mind, she’d heard Carter say those words over and over. She’d looked at them from every angle and tried to see what had been behind them. She’d gone over everything, from her family, the way she dressed, her jobs, to her table manners. While it was true that she hadn’t been raised in the luxury he was used to, she’d been to college, and—

  The sound of Reede’s laughter made her stop thinking. Obviously he thought that what she’d said was amusing. She got off the stool and headed for the front door, grabbing her purse on the way out.

  Reede caught her before she got there and put his hands on her shoulders. “Sophie, I was laughing at the absurdity of what he said. From what you’ve told me about that coward and from what I’ve read—and yes I did an Internet search—he’s ruled by his father. It’s my guess his old man has some other girl picked out for him.”

  Sophie was staring at Reede, still not placated for his laughter.

  “Sophie, you are the type men marry. This whole town is full of men wanting to walk down an aisle with you.”

  “That’s ridiculous. They may want . . . you know, from me, but . . . ” She stepped back from him. “This is an absurd conversation. No man—”

  Reede pulled her into his arms and held her. It wasn’t a lustful hug but one of comfort. “I’m sorry he hurt you,” he said softly. “You gave up everything to help your sister. You walked away from a college education to take on low-paying jobs so you could protect her. You gave up your friends, and most of all, you gave up your passion for sculpting to help someone else. Can you tell me that a woman who’d do something like that isn’t someone every man on this earth would want for his wife? To be the mother to his children?”

  Sophie couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes. She had loved Carter. Against all that she—and everyone in town had warned her about—she’d grown to love his quiet gentleness. Their days in the summer-house, on his boat, of just being together, had taken away the harshness of her life. Then, in one horrible night to find out that it was all a lie, that he hadn’t come close to feeling what she had, had nearly broken her.

  She clung to Reede’s strong body, her cheek against his chest, and she couldn’t stop her tears.

  “It’s all right,” he said as he stroked her hair. “He won’t be back and he can’t hurt you again. And just because he said that doesn’t make it true.”

  He pulled back to look at her. “But that doesn’t help much, does it? I was very low after some woman told me that she didn’t love me and that being around me and hearing of all I wanted to do in life had always scared her.”

  “That’s stupid!” Sophie said. “You got me across that beam when I was terrified. I would trust you with my life.”

  He took her hand in his and led her back to the kitchen. “I was so afraid she was right that as soon as I got out of school I went to Africa and Guatemala and anywhere else in the world where they’d have me. And you know what?”

  “They all loved you?”

  Reede smiled. “No. Not by a long shot. But they did trust me.” He led her back to the stool and pulled the sandwiches toward them.

  Sophie went into the kitchen to find the ingredients to make iced tea. “I want to hear more about your travels. You once said that you wanted me to get to know the real you, the one inside that you don’t show to other people.”

  “Only if you agree to do the same for me.”

  “All right,” she said.

  He took a bite of his sandwich. “How about if I tell you about the time Kim’s husband, Travis, nearly killed me and my donkey? And he destroyed medicines that had taken me six months to get.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes. It was in Morocco and it was horrible. There was an international race that day, but the idiots in two of the cars were on the wrong road! Later I found out that they were following each other, some sort of personal vendetta, one-upmanship. The first guy decided to cut a few miles off the course by not going around the village but through it, and the other one, Travis, followed him.”

  “But what about the people who lived there?”

  “Exactly,” Reede said. “Someone saw the first car coming so they began to warn everyone and they managed to get out of the way.”

  “Except you,” Sophie said.

  “I had a donkey loaded with boxes of medicines and the animal froze, wouldn’t move. The first car ran past us, with sand flying everywhere, and the poor creature freaked. Refused to take a step. I couldn’t believe it when another car came right behind the first one. It was heading directly toward us.”

  “What did y
ou do?” she asked.

  “I didn’t think about anything but keeping the medicines and that terrified donkey safe. I threw myself between the car and the animal.”

  Sophie stared at him. “That was dangerous.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “but if you had any idea what I’d gone through to get those supplies . . . ” Reede shrugged. “Anyway, the guy driving saw us and did a U-turn that scared the donkey so much that it sat down and the boxes split open. I lost everything.”

  “And Kim’s future husband was driving?”

  “Yeah, that was him.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Ran off. That race was everything to him and he kept going. Later Maxwell Industries replaced all of the supplies quite generously but still . . . ” Reede gave a one-sided grin. “At least he didn’t win the race.”

  “I’m glad he didn’t,” Sophie said, and Reede smiled at her.

  As she looked at him she thought that this moment was more romantic than all the rest that they’d been through. While it was exciting to have a man sweep you away on the back of a horse in the moonlight, it was quite another for him to wipe away your tears. She liked moonlight during the day also.

  “Come on and finish your sandwich,” he said, and they kept smiling at each other.

  Seventeen

  Sophie spent the night in her new apartment over the sandwich shop. Reede tried to coax her into staying with him and it was nearly impossible to resist the intensity of his eyes, but she’d done it. She felt like there were other things in her life that needed to be sorted out before there was more intimacy. Now, in the morning, as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she realized that something was happening inside her. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she thought maybe it was hope.

  For years now her hope for the future had been tied to when her sister went away to college and she’d no longer have to live in the same house as her step-father. She’d had hope that her future was connected to Carter, then in just days she’d attached her hope to Reede.

  But now . . . Now there were other possibilities. She’d never wanted a restaurant. She’d learned how to cook because she had to. And because she was a creative person she’d taught herself to do something other than fry pork chops. But perhaps . . .

  She had her hands behind her head and was lazing about when the shout of a male voice startled her.

  “Sophie!” came the roar from downstairs.

  It was Roan, and his voice was as big as his body.

  She scrambled out of bed and looked for her jeans as all she had on was an oversized T-shirt.

  “Come down or I’ll come up,” he bellowed, “then I’ll have to fight my little cousin for you.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. Reede was anything but small. “I’m coming,” she yelled back at him.

  “Well, get down here! We have work to do. And don’t bother putting on makeup. There’s no time.”

  Sophie made a quick trip to the bathroom with an even quicker glance at the mirror. She was a mess! Her hair was a tangle, her eyes sleepy-looking, and she had a crease from a pillow on her cheek. She started to take the time to fix herself, but then thought, What the heck? She was too excited to fiddle with a mascara wand. Besides, this was Roan, not Reede.

  Roan was standing at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a frown of impatience. But it changed when he saw Sophie. “Good Lord! Is this what you look like when you wake up? No wonder Reede has become a blithering idiot.”

  She couldn’t help laughing as his compliment was so sincere. She ran her hands through her hair, trying to smooth it. “So what’s got you in such a rush this morning?”

  “I think we should open tomorrow.”

  “Not possible. I have to make eight animal sculptures for some kids. They’re—”

  “Yeah, everybody in town knows about that. The kids saw Jim Levenger get pinned to a tree by a wayward arrow and you rounded them up and calmed them down with potato dragons. And those poor women who suffer through working for Reede bought you some clay so you’d like Edilean and stay here and keep the doc off their backs. Seems that the more sex he gets the nicer he is, and looking at you this morning I understand perfectly.”

  Under normal circumstances, Sophie would have been blushing at what Roan was saying, but his tone made her laugh. “Did the gossip wagon have any idea how I’m supposed to do eight animals and open a restaurant at the same time?”

  “This is Edilean.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That everybody has an opinion on everything.”

  “All right,” Sophie said. “I have an opinion too. Today I make the sculptures and tomorrow I get groceries and make some soup and the next day I open a restaurant and I’m going to need some help with all of that.” She started to say something about the money that she’d need but didn’t have, but she couldn’t bring herself to mention it.

  “It’s all taken care of. While you were lollygagging around in the woods yesterday and peeling potatoes, I was working.”

  “Unpeeled. Makes for better animal skin.”

  “Right,” he said as he opened the front door. His truck was just outside. “Here, hold this open.”

  She held the door as he went to the bed of the truck and opened the tailgate.

  “I brought the fifty pounds of clay and you’re going to sculpt and do some actual work at the same time.”

  “But I—”

  “Don’t even think of saying that you can’t do it. I teach at a university, remember? You kids do your homework while partying to three a.m.”

  “I’m hardly—” Sophie began but Roan held out a box for her to take.

  “Tools,” he said. “And I got a few cookbooks so we can decide what we’re going to make.” Under the back window were four huge shopping bags with the William and Mary logo on them. Beside them were three more bags and four boxes from Williams-Sonoma.

  “You’ve been shopping.”

  Roan gave a little grin. “Funny thing about women and shopping. I called two women I know who say they are in a . . . What is that disgusting term people use nowadays? A committed relationship. That’s it. For months they’ve been saying they can’t go out with me, but when I asked them to help me buy things, they just said, ‘When and where?’ One helped me buy books and the other one helped me choose cookware.”

  “All of which you could have done by yourself.”

  “But who wants to, right?” he said, and they both laughed.

  The day was hectic. Roan was used to being in charge of a lot of people, so he came up with dozens of things for Sophie to do at one time. The chaos wasn’t helped by the fact that the day before he’d placed an ad in the Williamsburg newspaper.

  HELP WANTED IN SANDWICH SHOP IN EDILEAN. CREATIVE, INTELLIGENT, ENTERTAINING, TALENTED, EDUCATED PERSON DESIRED. COOKING ABILITY A BONUS.

  “Are you advertising for a waitperson or a wife?”

  “I’m open to opportunity,” he said. “Let’s see what turns up.”

  The people who showed up were not what Sophie had in mind to help with the work of a restaurant. Every college kid for fifty miles around who was trying for a degree in some art form answered the ad. Since they recognized Roan’s professor attitude, they were drawn to him and sat down at the tables. Soon all of them were into deep discussions about art and philosophy and the meaning of life.

  Sophie was left with the work to do. When Reede showed up at one o’clock she was sitting on the floor with a cookbook open beside her, the manual for the big coffee machine Roan had bought in front of her, and a piece of clay that was beginning to look like a giraffe in her hands. Roan and his “students,” i.e., the job applicants, were taking up all the tables.

  Reede made his way through the mess, looked down at Sophie without saying a word, and offered her his hand. Gratefully, she took it and they went outside.

  “Looks like you’re getting to know my cousin,” Reede said.

  “Oh yeah. He has a quote from
a philosopher for every thought mankind has ever had.”

  “Mankind, huh?”

  She had the clay in her hands and was moving it about as they spoke. “Another day of this and I’ll be calling myself ‘one’ as in, ‘One can only guess at the enormity of the cosmic consequences of one’s inner self.’ ”

  Reede laughed. “Sounds just like Roan. Have you eaten?”

  “Not for hours.”

  “Good. Me neither. Let’s go to Ellie’s for lunch.”

  “Is she my competition?”

  “She’s your savior. She owns the grocery, and she’ll sell to you wholesale.”

  “She could give me a ninety-nine percent discount and I still couldn’t afford it. I tried to talk to Roan about money, but he was busy.”

  They’d reached Reede’s Jeep and they got in it. “You have to understand that Roan is a McTern.”

  “Al said he’d inherited some property.”

  “More than a little.” Reede started the engine. They were in the little parking area behind his office. “See the building my office is in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Roan owns that. And the one next to it and that one and that one. In fact, he owns most of the downtown, and we all pay him rent. An ancestor of his, Tam McTern, bought the land and began building the town.”

  “And it’s stayed in the family all this time?”

  “Through centuries. He sells some of it now and then but mostly to cousins.”

  “He wants to sell the sandwich shop to Al. He isn’t a cousin, is he?”

  “No,” Reede said, “but Al’s family’s been here a while.”

  Sophie was beginning to learn about Edilean. “A hundred years?”

  “Or more,” Reede said, his eyes twinkling.

  By the time they got to the grocery, she was almost finished with the giraffe. They sat in the car and he watched her as she pushed and pulled the clay. “Could I borrow your keys?”

  He handed them to her and she quickly used a point to etch onto the clay a semblance of the giraffe’s distinctive skin pattern.