The Secrets of Moonshine

by Denise Daisy

  Then from behind her, she heard the sound of snapping branches. Thoughts of her mourning disappeared, burned away by the realization of what she had done. How could she have been so careless? Why did she put herself at risk by running through the woods late at night, alone? Should she dare stop and look behind her?

  A cold chill snaked its way up her back. She had no idea where she was, or how far away from the festival she had run. She wanted to turn back, but realized running back might bring her face to face with Falcon, and imminent doom.

  Snap!

  Terror consumed her as she ran. She did not know how much longer she could go; she was running out of breath.

  Relief overcame her as she came into a clearing and saw a cabin. She knew this place--Travis’s cabin! It was dark; no lights glowed from the inside.

  Bolting up the porch steps, she headed for the door. On the night of the storm, Travis had opened it without a key. She doubted these mountain dwellers ever locked their homes. She would seek refuge inside, bar the door, and perhaps find a knife or something she could use to defend herself.

  She grabbed the knob and turned, pushing hard. The door didn’t move. She turned the knob again and pushed harder. Nothing! Maybe there was a back door. She whirled around. A scream escaped her lips as she ran into Travis.

  “I told you not to wander off alone.”

  She tried to catch her breath. “Were you following me?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?” she panted.

  “I’ve already answered that question,” he said firmly. “Yet you still disregard my warnings. Why did you leave so quickly? You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

  He had been watching, but from where? She chose not to answer him right away. She looked into his dark eyes. She had a myriad of questions she intended on asking him before the night was over. However, before she interrogated him, she would play along and answer his questions first.

  “I was having fun - until I happened to look up and see the banner. And for the first time, I actually read what it said. And there it was starring me in the face: August 16th. My wedding date.”

  She paused a moment when she noticed his expression change.

  “Ryan and I were supposed to be married today.” Her voice dropped until it was nearly inaudible. “A day hasn’t gone by for the past six months that I haven’t thought of that date. And now, for some unexplained reason, it slips my mind and I don’t think of it for days, and then suddenly, there it is mocking me, staring at me in the face from a ridiculous ice cream banner.”

  Her voice rose. “Now, instead of being surrounded by my family and friends at my seaside wedding, I’m surrounded by strangers in a small town somewhere in the Southern Appalachians at an ice cream festival. And you know what, Travis? I don’t even like ice cream.” She watched his stern expression melt into a slight smile.

  “I contemplated going to the beer garden and getting drunk. But I knew that would solve nothing, so I decided to go for a walk and have a good long cry. But for some reason I couldn’t cry. All I could think about was Ryan, and I was wondering where he was tonight and if he remembered what today was, and I wondered if his heart was aching at all. Then I decided to run, to run and run until I fell off the face of the earth, or ended up somewhere else. That’s when I heard someone behind me, and despite the fact you do not think I listen to your warnings, I remembered what you said last night. I was scared, so I kept on running. Before I knew it, I was here, and you know the rest.”

  She studied him as she finished her long discourse. There was something about having a conversation with him that kept her eyes engaged. He was always attentive - a rare thing in her social circles. She remembered so many events, being introduced to seemingly nice men. As she spoke with them, she would notice how their eyes would either wander below her face, only interested in one thing, or wander completely over the top of her head, surveying the room, to see if someone more important had entered. Someone who they felt would be better to talk with.

  Travis was different. His eyes absorbed her every expression, her every syllable. She appreciated that. Deeply.

  He reached for her hand. “Come with me.”

  She took his hand. It was large and strong, surprisingly rough for physician. It made perfect sense though; he worked with his hands, growing and distilling the many plants he used to treat his patients.

  Favoring her bleeding, aching feet, she carefully descended the porch steps, following him on a path leading to the lake. A boat rocked in the waters, softly knocking against the dock. He helped her into the vessel, with plenty of nice, cushioned seats. She chose a seat near the back of the boat, slightly behind the captain’s seat. He opened a cabinet door and removed a plush blanket, handing it to her.

  Grateful, she took the blanket and wrapped it around her bare shoulders. She had no idea where he was taking her, or of his plans, nor did she care. Her life had been changing so much recently that everything was completely opposite of what she anticipated. Tonight was supposed to be her night. Her wedding night; the night she was supposed to wear the white dress. The night all eyes would be on her. The night she danced in celebration with her friends, the night she was to become Mrs. Ryan Reese.

  Her hopes had not come true. Her dreams of her future had been disrupted. So tonight, she had no plans. She was not in control, nor did she desire to be. Tonight she would allow life to happen.

  Travis started the engine and guided the boat across the glassy water. As he pushed the throttle back, the boat picked up speed. She was grateful for the blanket. He had been thoughtful; the night air was quite cold. She pulled the blanket closer and eyed him. His hair was blowing away from his face and for the first time, she noticed a small silver earring in his ear. She quickly turned her attention away before he could catch her looking at him.

  The lake was much larger than she had anticipated, with no end in sight. Travis had been driving full speed, and there was still so much ahead. The water reflected the glow of the moon, while the hills and trees were black silhouettes against a deep purple sky. He pulled back on the throttle, steering around a corner and into a large hidden cove. He drove the boat to the center of the inlet and turned off the engine. There was complete silence, except for the woodland noises and gentle kisses of the waves against the boat as it rocked slowly, the wake continuing to dissipate.

  Her head raced. What would happen next? He turned and looked at her, offering his hand once more. She stretched her hand out to him, apprehensive. He led her to the center of the boat, saying nothing. He stood next to her and then released her hand.

  Suddenly the whistling sound of an object being hurled across the sky broke the silence, followed by a thunderous pop and explosion. She gasped. Colorful embers of fireworks exploded directly overhead, raining down around them and falling into the waters. The night sky shimmered. Another whistle tore across the sky, followed by another explosion, and more colorful embers. She was stunned at the brilliance and beauty of the firework display, and by her host’s graciousness. Travis had brought her to the best spot in Moonshine to see the festival’s firework show. Another explosion as blue, lavender, silver and green embers burst around them. The experience was magical, breathtaking, exhilarating. The kindness Travis had shown was amazing. He showed no selfish ulterior motives, only the desire to give her a magical moment.

  Her emotions began to overcome her. The tears she had held back inside of her heart for months stung at her eyes. The dam broke. A single tear escaped, trickling down her cheek, followed by another, and then another. Soon she was sobbing uncontrollably, her soul cleansing from the pain and disappointment, the shock, the betrayal, the bitterness, the abandonment... the miscarriage. Each tear seemed to have a name as it poured down her cheeks and splashed off her face. She felt a heaviness leave her body. She sat on the cushioned bench, shivering as she watched the enchanting display through tear-filled eyes. She pulled the blanket tighter around her. Travis sat down next to her, and
wrapped his strong arm around her, pulling her against him. She gratefully scooted in closer to him, leaning her head upon his shoulder.

  The fireworks continued to fall, and Travis continued to hold her as she cried. He never moved, spoke, or interrupted her personal moment of healing. He simply sat there, patiently, his powerful arm around her, offering her a shoulder to lean on, and a private place in which to escape.

  The night grew quiet once again. The fireworks stopped, the music no longer played in the distance. The sounds of laughter and carefree frivolity dwindled away. The festival had come to an end.

  The only audible sound was the gentle rocking and creaking of the boat. The lake had become somewhat darker, the moon now high in the sky. Bronwyn felt heavy-eyed, fatigued. The steady swaying of the boat nearly rocked her to sleep. She knew she should move, to allow Travis to take the boat back to the dock and return home before Mavis worried. He had been so kind to bring her here, to allow her the privacy to grieve. She did not intend to take advantage of his thoughtfulness, yet she wished to remain exactly where she was as long as possible.

  Her mind ventured back to earlier in the day, the uneasiness, her desperate need to speak to him and her urgent desire for answers. That was one of the mysteries of Moonshine. Some experiences were so bizarre, supernatural, leaving her weak and in an emotional panic. Yet within moments, the episodes would give way to the ordinary, almost causing her to forget the urgency she had felt earlier.

  Finally, she broke the silence. “You’re a doctor?”

  “A healer.”

  She smiled at the strange way he responded, then, “Who did Falcon kill in the garden last night?”

  There was no reply.

  “I know what I saw was real. I wasn’t dreaming.”

  Still no reply.

  “Part of me tells me I should fear you, yet another part wants to trust you completely. I am not sure which one I should listen to.”

  She could not see his face from her leaning position. She could only feel his body. It tensed when she asked the questions. She pulled herself away from him and looked at his face. His eyes were fixed across the water.

  “How could I have written about people I never met? Am I the scribe the murdered man spoke of?”

  He continued to fix his gaze across the lake. His mood was somber. She studied his expression, contemplating his silence. Time to press the matter. “I know there is something very out of the ordinary going on here. Something supernatural. I have felt it from the moment I arrived. From the moment we met on the bridge, I’ve experienced strange sensations. I’m not sure what they are, but I know what they aren’t. They are not symptoms of altitude sickness, so please don’t insult me with that explanation again. I need answers and I know you have them.”

  “Not tonight,” he said softly.

  “Why?” She pressed.

  “Because you’ve gone through an incredible amount of emotion tonight. You could not handle what I would tell you.”

  Although his words frightened her, she found a reason to trust in them. His eyes shone with sincerity and truth. He was right; tonight had been emotionally exhausting. She knew she couldn’t take much more. Her body was drained. She had a sense of satisfaction in knowing that there was something going on. At least she wasn’t losing her mind.

  Only one question left to ask. “When? When will you tell me?”

  Travis took his gaze off the water, and turned his eyes back to her. “Soon.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  DAY SIX

  Bronwyn’s intention of sleeping late was clapped aside by rolling thunder and a gentle rain tapping on the window screen. Fluffing her pillow and re-adjusting her position, she dozed back to sleep, only to be reawakened by the continual slamming of the door as Mavis and the kids headed out to church. She lay in bed for another half hour, attempting to fall back to sleep, her mind suddenly crowded with thoughts of the boat, the lake... Travis.

  She crawled from bed, grabbed her laptop and headed downstairs. Mavis had left behind a continental breakfast for her guests, so she poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbed an oversized blueberry muffin, and headed for the back porch. She curled up on the swing, sipping her coffee and enjoying the smell of the warm summer shower.

  Bethany joined her on the porch before she had an opportunity to write, and settled down in a rocking chair alongside the swing. Bronwyn laid her computer aside, realizing there would be no writing as long as Bethany was there. She could sense Bethany was full of questions. She had been so overcome with the realization about her wedding night, she’d left without thinking, and without giving Bethany or Lillian any notification.

  Bethany rocked in the chair, sipping coffee and nibbling at her croissant, while Bronwyn relayed the entire story of the walk, how she ended up at Travis’s cabin, the boat ride, and the spectacular fireworks display. At that point, Bethany removed herself from the rocking chair and joined Bronwyn on the swing.

  She curled her legs up underneath her, anticipating a more secretive accounting. However, that’s where Bronwyn ended her story.

  “So, you’re saying nothing happened between you two?” Bethany asked skeptically.

  “Nothing at all. I told you he is a good man. He is in love with his wife. Even Ashley said it at the salon. Everyone in town knows Travis’s heart belongs to only one person.” She ended her last statement with a sigh.

  “It just doesn’t make sense. He definitely seems to be attracted to you. He’s always following you around or at least showing up where you are. He followed you up to the top of the waterfalls. He obviously was watching you at the festival, because he followed you to his cabin. Then he took you out on his boat to a secluded private cove on the lake to watch fireworks - and he doesn’t make a move?” she shook her head in disbelief. “Something’s not right here.”

  Bronwyn smiled. “Just admit it, Bethany. There may be a few good, trustworthy, faithful men out there.”

  “That’s just it.” Bethany pointed out. “He’s not that faithful, or he would have taken Mavis out on the boat, and had some happy times away from the kids. Maybe you intimidate him.”

  “I don’t think so.” Bronwyn chuckled at the thought.

  Bethany was wrong. Travis was faithful. What was faithfulness anyway? Being loyal? Steadfast? Dedicated? Committed? Travis was certainly all those things to Mavis.

  “You promise me, nothing happened?” Bethany asked again, eyeing Bronwyn suspiciously. “He didn’t hint at anything--accidentally touch your leg or something?”

  Bronwyn laughed again. “No, he didn’t. He did put his arm around me when I started crying. He literally gave me his shoulder to cry on, but that was it.”

  “AH HA!” Bethany yelled, nearly spilling her coffee. “I knew there was something! He’s just a slow mover, but he’s making his moves alright, setting up opportunities, getting you to trust him, to relax around him. That scoundrel!” She shook her head, feeling she’d achieved an inner victory.

  Bronwyn smiled, unmoved. “You’re wrong Beth. You’re way off on this one.” She reached for Bethany’s mug and exited the porch to refill their coffee, only to return to more questions.

  “So what happened after the fireworks? You didn’t come back to the inn for a long time after the festival was over. I’m seeing a time gap here. How did you fill it? Bury more victims?”

  Bronwyn gave a courteous laugh and proceeded to tell Bethany how her sobbing had taken its toll, leaving her heavy-eyed and drained. She explained how the stillness of the night and the gentle swaying of the boat nearly rocked her to sleep. How Travis had sat there patiently, allowing her all the time she needed. Then when she was ready, he brought the boat back to the cabin and returned her to the inn. She purposely neglected to tell Bethany of their conversation that transpired, understanding it was not for Bethany to know. She could never comprehend the meaning of it all.

  Bethany leaned her head back against the swing, watching the light rain falling outside. “I
’m glad he was there for you last night. I’m proud of him for behaving himself. He could have easily taken advantage of a distraught bride, abandoned on her wedding night. For that, he’s a good man.”

  Bronwyn watched her friend sipping coffee and contemplating. She knew Bethany’s concern was entirely for her well-being, combined with her own heartbreaking experience. Even though Bethany’s relationship had only lasted a short three months, Bronwyn knew her pain from that experience of deception was more than she showed.

  The rain began to lessen, the clouds having completed their duty of giving the thirsty earth its morning drink. The sun broke through the gloom just as the local church was dismissing. The few dedicated worshippers, faithful enough to attend services on the morning after the festival, exited the sanctuary, and milled about outside. They discussed various topics, from the relevancy of the sermon, to the antics of the previous night’s celebration. Mavis descended the steps of the church, carefully holding tightly to the pastor’s hand.

  “How are those big city guests of yours?” The benevolent minister asked as he helped her off the bottom step.

  “Doin’ just fine.” Mavis said, smiling. “The kids are enjoying all the activity going on at the inn, and I think Carla Jo has developed a crush on the handsome one.”

  The pastor smiled. “They seemed to be enjoying themselves last night.”

  “Didn’t we all!” Mrs. Meer, a hefty woman, eagerly wedged herself into the conversation. “I think it was the nicest festival we’ve had in a while.”

  Mavis forced a smile, excusing herself. She yelled to the kids to head to the car. She knew if Doris Meer joined the conversation, there would be no getting away anytime soon. Her guests would be sure to starve before she would be able to return and prepare a meal. However, Doris had other intentions.