Moonlight over Manhattan

by Sarah Morgan

  “You’re here on your own, you’re pale and you obviously didn’t sleep last night. Assuming that bout of insomnia wasn’t caused by excitement over Christmas, it can only be about Ethan. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. At work I assume.”

  Susan scowled. “You had a week together in a log cabin in a forest. That should have been romance central. What went wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Harriet returned to her cooking, hoping they could move away from this subject. “We had a wonderful week. Everything went right.”

  “If everything had gone right, you wouldn’t be on your own here now.”

  Harriet shook her head. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “In a minute. When we’re done talking about this. Does he know you love him?”

  Harriet gave a crooked smile. She didn’t bother asking how Susan had guessed. “I’m not one to hide my feelings so the answer to that is yes. But it’s not mutual.”

  “If that’s true then the man doesn’t just need a scan, he needs surgery.”

  “You can’t force someone to love a person.”

  “Mmm.” Susan frowned. “You’ve never seen what I can achieve with a scalpel in my hand.”

  Harriet winced. “Promise me you won’t say anything to him.”

  “Can’t promise that.” Susan wandered into the kitchen. “Any of that delicious coffee on offer?”

  Harriet made her a coffee and handed her a tin. “Chocolate chip cookie?”

  “Are you sure you can spare one?” Susan took the lid off the tin. “Holy smokes. How many people are coming today? The entire population of Manhattan?”

  “Just you and Glenys.”

  Susan stared into the tin. “So by a rough calculation, I reckon that’s about four thousand cookies each. What happened?”

  “I may have gotten a little carried away yesterday. Baking cheers me up.”

  “Well, don’t apologize for that.” Susan took two cookies out of the tin. “I’m here for you. Anything you need, even if it requires me to consume my body weight in sugar.”

  Harriet managed a laugh but she had no idea how. Her whole body felt heavy. She was pretending she was coping well but the truth was she felt awful. Lethargic. Sad. And it hadn’t even been forty-eight hours yet. “Tell me about you. Have you been in much pain?”

  “No.” The shadows under Susan’s eyes told a different story. “They think I should be back at work mid-January. I’m starting physical therapy next week.”

  Glenys arrived with Harvey, having taken a cab the few blocks from her apartment. She and Susan immediately bonded and Harvey made himself at home in Harriet’s apartment.

  They swapped gifts, and Harriet served lunch and tried not to think about Ethan and what he was doing. Glenys and Susan were good company and Harriet was relieved that they were there.

  “One more game of Scrabble,” she announced, a few hours later. “Festive Scrabble this time. Only words relating to the holidays are allowed. And it’s only fair to warn you about my competitive streak and my killer instinct.”

  “Killer instinct? You?” Glenys glanced at Susan, who shook her head quickly.

  “You go, girl.”

  They were almost at the end of the game when there was a knock on the door.

  “ALCOHOL is not a Christmas word.” Glenys waggled her finger. “It doesn’t count.”

  “Try working in the ER on Christmas Day. Alcohol is definitely a Christmas word. It’s your turn, Harriet,” Susan said. “I’ll get the door.” She walked to the door and pulled it open while Harriet made a word out of her own letters.

  “FESTIVE.” She put the letters down carefully. “And on a triple word score. Take that! You’ll never catch me now. You might as well surrender.”

  Realizing that Susan wasn’t responding in her usual way—in fact she wasn’t responding at all—Harriet glanced across to the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Santa,” Susan said faintly.

  “Very funny.”

  “He has a gift for you.”

  “If this is an elaborate trick to distract me so that you can switch my letters when I’m not looking, it’s too late. I’ve already won.” Harriet took a last look at the board before going to the door. “I assume it’s a charity thing—”

  She stared at the tall, broad-shouldered Santa standing in her doorway. “Ethan? What are you—” She swallowed. “Why are you dressed as Santa?” And then she realized why, and what it meant, and her heart swelled in her chest. “You did it. You agreed to dress as Santa for the kids. Why? What changed your mind?”

  “Someone once told me that they always do the one thing they don’t want to do. I thought it sounded like a good idea.”

  “So this is Challenge Ethan?”

  “Maybe. And I kept the costume on, because no one can turn away Santa, right?”

  “Manipulative,” Susan muttered and Ethan reached into the sack he was carrying and handed her a gift.

  “This seems to have your name on it.”

  “Bribery is not going to work.” But Susan took the gift from his hands. “Or maybe it will. Possibly.”

  Harriet was too busy thinking through the implications. He’d agreed to be Santa. Whatever part of him had thought he was too cynical to be Santa, he’d put it aside. Buried it. “Were they thrilled? Or were they too sick to be happy?” She hated thinking about the kids in hospital on Christmas Day. But at least they’d had a visit from Santa.

  “They were all pretty happy to see me, you were right about that.”

  “Do you want to come in?” Her mind was racing with a thousand questions. Why are you here? How have you been?

  He stepped inside and peeled off his beard. “Ouch.”

  Susan covered her eyes. “Carry on like this and you’ll have me thinking that Santa isn’t real.”

  “He’s real, but right now he’s overheated.” He smiled at Glenys. “I’m interrupting your game. I apologize.”

  Without the beard, Harriet was able to take a closer look at him and realized he looked exhausted. As if he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Don’t apologize. Harriet just thrashed us both and Susan and I were about to leave, weren’t we, Susan?” Glenys was on her feet and whistling for Harvey.

  “I was about to leave, but now I think it might be more entertaining to stay.” Susan sent Ethan a look. “You’d better be about to say something worth hearing.”

  “I’m not going to be saying anything while you’re standing there.”

  Susan grumbled and picked up her coat. “Make her cry and I’ll hunt you down and fillet you.”

  “I’ve missed you at work. No one abuses me the way you do. Please come back soon.”

  Susan hesitated and then stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I plan to.”

  Glenys took Susan’s arm. “Share a cab, Doctor?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Wait. You’re both leaving?” Harriet felt a lurch of anxiety. She had no idea why Ethan was here, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be left alone.

  “Thank you for a wonderful Christmas.” Susan hugged her and so did Glenys.

  “Best Christmas ever, although I may never forgive you for getting FESTIVE on a triple word score.” They left, and suddenly she was alone with Ethan.

  She wondered how it was, after all the intimacies they’d shared, she could feel awkward and uncomfortable being in the same room as him. “Have you eaten? Can I fetch you something?” She wanted to ask why he was so tired, but knew she shouldn’t be asking questions that personal.

  “Later. First there are things I need to say to you.” He took her hands and pulled her against him. “That night in the cabin when you told me you loved me, you scared me.”

  “I know. You felt a responsibility to love me back, but—”

  “I do love you back, and it has nothing to do with responsibility.”

  She stared at him, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. “But you said—”<
br />
  “I know what I said and when I said it, I believed it. When it comes to relationships, you’ve set the bar high. I was afraid I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be.”

  “Oh, Ethan—” Her eyes filled. “I’ve only ever wanted you to be who you already are. I don’t want a fake version of you. I want you.”

  “I know. I’ve had time to think about that, and other things. Like how much I love you.”

  “Really? You were sure that you didn’t have those feelings.” She felt shaky and unsteady. “How do you know?”

  “Over the years I’ve learned to switch off my emotions. It’s almost become easy for me. I thought that was why my marriage didn’t work. I thought that was why I couldn’t give any relationship what it needed. When you ended it, I told myself I’d switch off what I was feeling, same as I always have. But it didn’t happen. That was when I realized that what we have is nothing like any relationship I’ve had before. My feelings are nothing like I’ve ever experienced before.”

  “Ethan—”

  “What I feel for you is too powerful to be buried. And it’s certainly too powerful to be ignored. I know, because I tried.”

  She lifted her hand and touched his cheek. “Is that why you look so awful?”

  “Turns out I don’t sleep well when you’re not in my life.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You’re not the sort of person who switches love on and off, so I’m assuming I’m not too late?”

  She stared into his eyes, hardly able to believe this was real.

  “Of course not. I love you.”

  He groaned and pulled her against him. “I love you too. I want to be your forever family, or whatever it is you call it when you find permanent homes for those animals you foster.”

  Forever family.

  Merry Christmas, Harriet.

  Her throat thickened and she leaned her head against his chest. “I want that too.”

  “Are you sure? You said you knew my strengths and weaknesses. I want to make sure that you do, because I’m not easy to live with. There will be days when I’m so focused on working I’ll forget to call home.”

  She lifted her head and smiled. “I already know that. I know you. But while we’re confessing all, you should probably know that I intend to get a dog. Are you okay with that?”

  “Funny you should say that,” he said, his tone conversational, “because my Christmas gift to you is going to be a puppy but I thought that, given you’re the dog expert, you’d prefer to choose it yourself.”

  “We’ll do it together.” She slid her arms round his neck. “We’ll go to the shelter and find a dog that needs a home.”

  He kissed her and it was at least five minutes before she was able to speak again.

  “I’m glad you decided to be Santa.”

  “You do something you find hard every day. I figured that the least I could do was give this a try. It worked, I think.” He looked pleased with himself. “I was a hit with the kids.”

  “I never doubted you would be.”

  “And it occurs to me that I had something to give all of them, but nothing to give you.” He smoothed his hand over her hair. Kissed her mouth. “I came rushing over here because I couldn’t wait another moment to talk to you. I don’t have a ring. I don’t have anything. All I brought is the promise of a puppy. This is not the romantic proposal you deserve.”

  “Are you kidding?” She almost choked on the words. “You’re giving me love. That’s the best gift of all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “If you know me as well as I think you do, then you know I’m sure.” Her heart felt full. “Ethan, you brought yourself. The only thing that matters is that you’re here. That you came. That you love me.”

  He wrapped her tightly in his arms. “So what’s the next challenge?”

  She leaned her head against his chest, breathing him in, feeling her future opening up like a bright shining path. There would be obstacles at some point, she knew that. But she also knew she’d deal with them. “I don’t know what’s next. But what I do know is that when you love someone, and they love you back, everything seems like less of a challenge.” And she knew that wherever life took them, they were going there together.

  * * * * *

  THANK YOU

  THANKS AND BIG hugs to my talented editor Flo Nicoll, who has worked with me for the past four and a half years and who always pushes me and demands the very best. This is our twelfth book together and I like to think we’re a perfect team.

  It takes a village to put a book on the shelves and I’m always nervous of thanking people individually because I will miss someone out, but my thanks go to everyone at HQ in the UK and HQN in the US. I’m so grateful to everyone for all the thought and effort they put into making sure my books reach readers. It’s a tough job and they do it brilliantly.

  My agent, Susan Ginsburg, is simply the best. I don’t know where I’d be without her invaluable advice and input.

  After three books with a large cast of dogs as secondary characters, I was struggling to find names so my thanks to all my patient and enthusiastic readers on Facebook who kindly contributed.

  A special mention to Natalie Smith, who bid to name a character in this book to raise funds for the wonderful charity CLIC Sargent, whose work helps support children and young people with cancer. Natalie, your generosity is much appreciated and I hope you like “Nat.”

  My family and friends are endlessly supportive. Thanks to Joe, Ben and Kim for valiantly tasting batch after batch of chocolate chip cookies as I worked to perfect Harriet’s recipe. Your dedication to the cause is appreciated. Now get back to the gym!

  I owe the biggest debt of gratitude to my readers who continue to buy my books, thus ensuring I can continue with my dream job, writing them. Thank you. You’re the best.

  Sarah

  xxx

  Lauren’s picture-perfect life is built on a secret she’s worked hard to hide for years, a secret her teenage daughter has just discovered.

  Jenna secretly longs for a family, but knows she must rebuild her relationship with her mother first.

  Nancy knows the time has come to reveal her secret pain to her daughters…

  A family built on secrets. A summer spent together. Their perfect chance to find hope, forgiveness and love.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek of the captivating and emotional new book from Sarah Morgan, available in spring 2018!

  ON HER QUEST to make a romantic dinner, Jenna stopped at the store on her way home and bought food. It always took a while because she bumped into so many people she knew. The sense of community was one of the things she loved about living on Martha’s Vineyard. It was also one of the things she hated. Like today, for example, when she wasn’t feeling sociable. She was still wound up after her encounter with her mother and wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

  It was unlikely she’d make it through a shopping trip without having at least three lengthy conversations, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try.

  She kept her head down and didn’t look at anyone.

  “Jenna? Jenna! I thought it was you.”

  Surrendering to her fate, Jenna glanced up from the apples. “Hi, Sylvia.”

  She’d been at school with Sylvia, but their lives had diverged. Jenna had gone off to college and Sylvia had stayed on the island and proceeded to pop out children as if she was on a personal mission to increase the number of year-rounders (personally Jenna was relieved to see half the population decamp to warmer climates in the winter months. The roads were clearer, the beaches were empty and you didn’t have to stand in line for ages at the bakery).

  Jenna put field greens, tomatoes and bell peppers into her basket. “How are the children?” Why had she asked that question? There were six kids. She could potentially be here for hours. The Denton family could make up a class by themselves.

  Six kids?

  Where was the fairness in that? Not that Jenna wanted six. She wasn’t greedy
.

  If she could just have one she would never complain again.

  She only half listened as Sylvia talked about the stress of ferrying the children from piano lessons, swimming lessons, art class and football.

  “Time you and Greg started a family,” Sylvia said, as if producing babies was simply something Jenna might have forgotten to do in the day-to-day pressure of living their lives.

  Jenna fingered an overripe tomato, wondering whether the pleasure of pulping it against Sylvia’s perfect white shirt would outweigh the inevitable fallout.

  Probably not. That was the downside of being a teacher. Islanders would no doubt decide that someone with so little self-control wasn’t fit to have responsibility for impressionable minds.

  Regretfully she dropped the tomato into her basket with the others, made a vague comment about being busy and then imagined how Sylvia might interpret that. If she wasn’t careful it would be all round the whole island that she and Greg were too busy to have sex.

  “Greg and I love being just the two of us.” She pinned a dreamy look on her face, hoping she wasn’t overcompensating. “I’m cooking a romantic dinner.”

  “I envy you,” Sylvia said. “If Mike and I want to be romantic we have to pay a babysitter. And he and I only have to look at each other for me to get pregnant, so I daren’t touch him. He’s quite the superstud.”

  Mike was a mild mannered, overweight accountant who left the talking to his wife in most social situations. The idea of him as a “Superstud” challenged even Jenna’s overactive imagination.

  She resisted the temptation to ask Sylvia if she had any sex secrets that might increase the chances of conception. She was too afraid of hearing the details.

  “I must get home. Dinner to cook.” She grabbed a bottle of wine and then hesitated. Did wine have a negative effect on fertility? Maybe. On the other hand, it was excellent for encouraging relaxation and there was no doubt they both needed a hefty dose of that.

  She left the wine in the basket.

  After her earlier encounter with her mother she needed it.

  “By the way,” Sylvia’s voice was casual, “I was driving through Edgartown half an hour ago and I happened to see a pickup truck parked outside your mother’s house. Guess who was driving it? Scott Rhodes.” She glanced over her shoulder and spoke in an undertone, as if the mere mention of that name might be enough to get her arrested. “He looked as bad and dangerous as ever. I swear the man never smiles. What is his problem? I didn’t know he knew your mom.”