Ghost Moon (Haunting Romance)

by Kathryn Knight

  Love was about compromise; about putting someone else’s needs ahead of your own. His parents had demonstrated that throughout their marriage, and they would expect Jesse to do the same. If his future took him somewhere else, he’d just have to do his best to find someone willing to buy the practice. It probably wouldn’t be easy—it didn’t make a huge profit—but there were other reasons another vet might be willing to step in and take over. He’d do what he could to honor his father’s wishes by trying to keep the clinic open, and that would have to be enough. Because being around Lark had made him realize that home wasn’t just about a geographic place. Wherever he and Lark chose to live would be home, as long as they were together.

  He cleared his throat. “My dad would understand. The clinic meant a lot to him, but not more than my happiness.”

  “And being with me makes you happy?” She blinked as moisture glistened in her eyes.

  “It does. I miss you when I’m not with you. You’re the first person I want to talk to in the morning, and the first person I want to see when I’m done at work. There’s been a connection between us since we first met. I never really believed in fate, but I feel like you were brought here for a reason.”

  She cocked her head. “Aside from solving a ghost mystery, you mean?”

  “See?” he said, chuckling. “You’re always able to make me laugh, too.”

  Her melodic laughter joined his for a moment before she grew serious again. “I felt the connection from the day we met, too. I just didn’t want to trust in it, after everything I’d been through. I had decided never to fall in love again, but with you, well…there was no decision to be made. I just fell.”

  “I’m glad. I know it wasn’t easy. But I’ll never hurt you, Lark.”

  “I believe you. I trust you, and I trust us.” She shifted her weight, dropping her gaze before looking back at him. “But what I wanted to talk about…it wasn’t about moving back to New York. Well, in a way it was, actually. I came to my own realization. The only reason I wanted to go back was to hold on to something familiar, after everything in my life shifted so drastically in such a short period of time. It almost felt like that was the last piece of my identity. But that’s not true. You’ve made me see that, and being here has made me see that. Despite everything that happened, New York City holds some great memories for me. But I think that now, it’s my past.” Inhaling, she searched his face for his reaction.

  “You don’t want to go back?”

  She shook her head.

  A tentative spark of happiness ignited inside him, but her expression kept it from growing. Why did she look so torn? “This is great news,” he said carefully, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “But…did you think I wouldn’t be happy?”

  “Well, it’s just…” She trailed off, swallowing hard before trying again. “I really like it here, and it doesn’t hurt that the man I love is here either.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “But this is a small town, and it’s your hometown. I’m afraid that by staying here, I’m putting pressure on us. And on you. I just don’t want it to seem like I have certain…expectations.” Color bloomed on her cheeks as she fidgeted on his lap.

  His muscles relaxed. “I would never think that, Lark. But I understand what you’re saying.” Pausing, he kissed her shoulder, searching for a way to reassure her. “I know it’s a big step. But you’re not putting pressure on me. Think about it this way—before you even mentioned moving here, I told you I wanted us to be together, wherever that was. Right?”

  “Right.” Relief rolled off of her as she exhaled. “And I’m overwhelmed that you would have been willing to come to New York with me. Especially since you love your job here, and you love running your family’s clinic.”

  “I do. But like I said—I want us to be together.”

  She nodded. “I do, too. And I’m glad we can do that here. The residents here need you. Preston might have died if you weren’t available in the middle of the night.” A shiver traveled through her. “I’m grateful for your dedication, and I know all the residents and vacationers who’ve needed your help are too. Your dedication to the clinic is one of the things I love about you.”

  “And your strength is one of the things I love about you. You’ve been through a lot of loss, and starting over in a new town isn’t easy. You’re sure about this?”

  “Yes. This is a beautiful place, and I own a house that’s both rent-free and, now, ghost-free.” She shot him a wry smile. “And I like the people I work with, although that job might not be enough to keep the lights on. But I’ve been thinking about joining that co-op in Provincetown I told you about. Trying to sell some prints. It might not add much to my income, but it’s something I love.”

  “You should definitely do it, then. The rest will sort itself out. Plus, I’m here to help you. Although I know how much you hate that.”

  She pressed her lips together to hold back her laughter. “I’m getting better at it. It’s not a terrible thing to depend on someone, especially when it’s someone you know you can count on.”

  His heart contracted, and he ran a knuckle gently over her cheek. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  “Well, you did save my life,” she pointed out, one of her shoulders lifting in a playful shrug.

  “The things you make me do to prove myself,” he joked. Shaking his head, he tightened his arm around her waist. “God, I hate thinking about that night. I can’t believe I almost lost you.”

  A span of silence filled the room as memories crashed around them. When Lark spoke, her voice rang with emotion. “In everything that happened, though, we found each other. And we found peace for Eva.”

  The extent of everything that had happened, both in the last few weeks and in the last few minutes, sank in as they remained locked in an embrace. “I love you,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck.

  “I love you, too.” He ran his hand along the outside of her thigh. After a few beats, he added, “What did you want to do today?”

  “Well, I need to clean up in here.”

  “Nope,” he said firmly. “You cooked, I’ll clean up.”

  She made an appreciative noise, nuzzling her way up toward his ear. “Yeah?”

  Her warm breath against his neck quickened his pulse. “Absolutely. But, maybe not right this second.” His fingers continued to slide over her smooth skin.

  “No? Did you have something else in mind first?”

  His breath caught as she nibbled on his earlobe. Desire flooded through him in a potent rush. “I have some ideas,” he conceded, his voice rough.

  “Hmm,” she murmured as she adjusted her position on his lap, wrapping her legs around to straddle him. “Like…errands?”

  He slipped his hands beneath her shirt, fanning her ribcage. “Not what I was thinking.”

  She scooted forward, pushing her hips closer. “Grocery store?” Her lips moved slowly down the length of his neck.

  He shook his head wordlessly as his thumbs grazed her nipples.

  “Guess we could go for a walk…” She trailed off, making a low sound in her throat as she rocked against him, her bottom pressing into his erection.

  He groaned, reaching down in one swift movement to grip the backs of her thighs. Shoving the chair back from the table, he stood up with her in his arms, and she let out a sultry laugh. She clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist, as he carried her toward the stairs.

  * * *

  The sky stretched into an endless arc of blackness, its canvas scattered with the brilliance of countless stars glowing from distant realms. Lark snuggled next to Jesse on the blanket they’d brought down to the beach as she gazed upward. The rhythmic tumble and retreat of the waves was the only sound, a soothing backdrop to the otherwise perfect stillness. She couldn’t believe this was the first time she was doing this since she’d been here.

  It had been Jesse’s idea. After they’d actually done a few errands this morning—early afternoon, reall
y—he’d put on the local news while they were preparing dinner. A small meteor shower was forecasted for tonight, and Jesse suggested they head down to the beach to stargaze. It was past ten o’clock, and he had to work in the morning, but they’d napped a little after falling back into bed. And it seemed like the perfect way to end the day they’d both uttered—and received—those three magical words.

  They’d also marked the day by choosing an inscription for Eva’s headstone. They’d found a church in Wellfleet willing to donate a cemetery plot, and they wanted to be ready when her remains were finally released. They wanted something that would also quietly honor the unborn child only they knew about, so they’d decided on a quote from Matthew: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

  They’d made the selection while over at her house, so they could also spend time with Preston. She felt a little guilty about spending every night over at Jesse’s, but when they lived in New York, she’d been away from the apartment for more than eight hours during the day, and he’d been fine. With the ghost at peace, he seemed quite content to move about the spacious house to find various spots to nap. And she kept the birdfeeders full so he could watch the constant activity from his perch.

  When Jesse had made an offhand remark about her and Preston moving in with him someday, her heart had swelled for the hundredth time that day, but she’d reminded him he had two dogs. He’d laughed and pointed out that as a veterinarian, he was pretty good with animals. “All it takes is time, patience, and a lot of tuna fish,” he’d assured her.

  Overhead, a meteor shot across the sky, and she gasped, clutching his hand. “Did you see it?”

  “I did. There goes another one,” he said, gesturing with his free hand toward the streak of light.

  She kept her eyes trained overhead, completely mesmerized by the celestial show. With no electric lights to dull the effect, and no buildings or clouds to block the view, the vastness of the night sky was overwhelming. Breathtaking.

  “This is amazing. It sort of feels like we’re at the edge of the world.”

  He chuckled softly. “Well, we’re close.” Shifting to his side, he brushed a kiss against her temple. “Don’t forget to make a wish.”

  She shivered with pleasure at the warmth of his breath against her ear. Somehow, her wishes seemed to have all come true. The pieces of her life had come back together, even stronger. She had a new home, new friendships, and a new opportunity to rekindle her passion for photography. Best of all, her heart no longer felt like a fragile piece of glass, lined with cracks. It was whole now. Complete. Filled with joy, contentment, and indescribable love for the man beside her.

  She turned toward him, stealing a glance at his handsome profile. “My wishes have been granted,” she said, her voice weighted with the sincerity of her words and reverence for this night.

  Lifting their joined fingers, he kissed the back of her hand. “Mine, too.”

  Acknowledgments

  I’m truly grateful for my readers, so thanks to everyone who came on Lark and Jesse’s journey in Ghost Moon. Your support means the world to me, and when I hear from a satisfied reader—whether via email, social media, or a review—it absolutely makes my day. Please do consider leaving a short review, it really helps a book gain visibility!

  I could never have written any of my novels without the love and encouragement of my husband, so thank you, Chris. I love you. Thank you to my friend and enthusiastic Beta reader Kathy. Thanks to my gym ladies who help keep me fit (and sane). Thanks to my amazing cover artist, author K.R. Conway. Thank you to readers Alicia H. and Maritza F. for naming Dr. Holt’s dogs. And to all my family and friends, thank you for the incredible support of my books, and for the love, friendship, and support throughout the years. I love and appreciate you all.

  Other titles by Kathryn Knight:

  THE HAUNTING OF HILLWOOD FARM

  GULL HARBOR

  HAUNTED SOULS

  DANGEROUS CURRENTS

  SILVER LAKE

  DIVINE FALL

  About the Author

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author Kathryn Knight writes books filled with steamy romance, dangerous secrets, and haunting mysteries. Her novels are award-winning #1 Amazon and B&N Bestsellers and RomCon Reader-Rated picks. When she's not reading or writing, Kathryn spends her time exploring abandoned places and searching for ghosts. She lives on beautiful Cape Cod with her husband, their two sons, and a number of rescued pets. Please visit her at www.kathrynknightbooks.blogspot.com.

  AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

  THE HAUNTING OF HILLWOOD FARM

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  The sugar bowl slid across the kitchen counter, its lid rattling with jerky bursts of motion. Alice Turner froze, her fingers clenched around the mug of coffee she held suspended in midair, a curl of steam wavering in the sudden chill. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she stared at the yellow ceramic bowl, zigzagging its way toward her via some unseen force. It jittered to a halt directly in front of her, and her taut muscles went limp. Her coffee mug slammed down against the dark stone countertop, sending scalding liquid sloshing over her hand. She cried out, more from fright than pain, and stumbled back, nearly tripping as her foot slid out of its slipper. The near fall sent another bolt of panic through her. At 73, she was still quite active, but a broken bone would put an end to that.

  She steadied herself. Careful. Blowing out a breath, she glanced at the reddening skin of her hand before quickly returning her gaze to the wayward bowl. Had it really just moved on its own? Despite the fear coursing through her veins, a wave of relief washed over her.

  Maybe she wasn’t losing her mind. Maybe all her recent worries about dementia, fueled by things like finding objects someplace other than where she’d left them, or discovering kitchen drawers open when she was sure she’d closed them, were unfounded. Could some kind of…supernatural phenomenon be responsible? A shiver crawled up her spine. That alternative wasn’t a particularly comforting thought. And her practical New England roots didn’t exactly lend themselves to that line of reasoning.

  She cradled her throbbing hand against her chest, studying the sugar bowl for more movement. But it seemed to have completed its journey and had now reverted to an inanimate object, ready and waiting to sweeten her coffee.

  With cautious steps, she backed away from the counter, crossing the kitchen toward the sink. Flipping on the faucet, she held her injured hand under the stream of cold water.

  Was she really considering the presence of a ghost? It would help to explain all the strange occurrences she’d noticed since she’d returned from her trip. Without Henry. A deep ache flared in her chest as her gaze cut over to the chair he used to settle in at the big farmhouse table, empty now. With a heavy sigh, she glanced back at the stationary bowl as she dried her hand with a checkered dish towel.

  It had moved. She was certain. Retrieving her mug, she nodded forcefully, trying to push away the pinpricks of doubt threatening to erode her conviction. Either a spirit had manipulated the sugar bowl, or she was truly cracking up. The latter theory felt like the more terrifying one. She didn’t even want to contemplate the possibility that her ties to sanity, already frayed by grief, had finally snapped, and hallucinations were her new reality.

  Maybe it was time to talk to Luke, to see if he’d noticed anything unusual since he’d been living with her at Hillwood. It was just that he was already so worried about her. As much as she loved him, she didn’t need a babysitter; nor did she want her 27-year-old grandson to have to take on that role. So far, their cohabitation was working out, but once he got a load of her sugar bowl story, that might change quickly.

  Another pocket of frigid air swirled around her, and she spun around. Her gaze searched the empty kitchen and the back hallway. No one was there. She turned back slowly, her heart thumping in her ears. From her position behind the long counter separating the kitchen from the dining room, she could see the foyer. The front door remained shut.
The windows were still closed against last night’s rain. Besides that, it was 65 degrees outside, according to the thermometer in the window above the sink. A cold front inside the house made little sense, unless…

  “Henry?” Her voice wavered in the silence.

  The sugar bowl shivered slightly, as if a small earthquake had opened up beneath it. An extremely localized earthquake that had no effect on anything else nearby. Her trembling hands flew to her mouth as a potent mix of fear and longing swept through her. She slid her damp palms downward, over the hammering in her chest. “Is that you?” she added, the words barely emerging from her dusty throat.

  The lights flickered. She glanced up, her breath catching. A soft moan rippled through the air, raising in pitch until it became a distant wail. She clutched the folds of her robe, every muscle in her body vibrating with tension. A sudden movement caught her eye, and she snapped her head back toward the sugar bowl as it careened off the counter, shattering in an explosion of ceramic shards and white powder.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  The farmhouse looked completely normal from the outside, if a little worse for the wear due to its age. According to Alice, the historic home in Sandwich, Massachusetts, had been in the Turner family not just for generations but for centuries, with parts of the original 1780s structure still intact amongst the additions and renovations completed over the years. A wide, welcoming porch, complete with Adirondack chairs, rockers, and hanging plants, stretched across the front of the home, wrapping around the sides. Old steel milk jugs flanked the red front door, and checkered curtains hung in the windows. Everything about it was quaint and inviting.