The Spring at Moss Hill

by Carla Neggers

  “I don’t even know anymore. I haven’t flown anywhere in over a year. It’s easy to slip into boxes of our own creation. Mine’s been that I need to work all the time and be alone and not tell people what I do. If I do, somehow it will throw everything that’s been working for me out of whack. What’s your box?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Competent, confident, responsible. They are positive qualities, and I imagine they’re assets in your line of work.”

  “They can be. They can also turn me into a rigid jackass.”

  She smiled. “Are you quoting someone by chance?”

  “My brother. Marty has a variety of colorful alternatives for jackass.”

  “My sister worries about me, too. But I don’t think you’re a rigid jackass. With what you see and know, what you’ve done, two round-trips across the country in a week and taking on a potential stalker must seem easier sometimes than it would be to let your guard down...” She went red, grabbed her stick again. “Never mind.”

  “Easier to take on a stalker than to take you to the zoo? Allow other people to crawl out of their boxes?” Like Marty, Russ thought. But Kylie smiled, and he decided not to think about his brother right now, no doubt in his mind Marty would have approved. “You’ve found a home here in Knights Bridge.”

  “Working on it. We’ll see how people here react to Morwenna. I’m guessing they won’t care. No one seemed to mind last night.” Looking calmer, she put her stick aside and ran her fingers in the spring water. “Maybe it’s not so much about finding a place but making a place your own.”

  “This spot does make you think about possibilities.”

  “Yes, it does. Not many people come up here.” She gave him a sideways look. “I keep my phone handy in case I fall.”

  “Good thinking.” Russ scooped up water in his hand and took a drink. It was cold, clean, no trace of muck that he could taste. “This is so different from the life I know, it’s hard to describe.”

  “Good different or bad different?”

  “Just different.” He shook the excess water off his hand and touched two fingers to her cool cheek. “Except for the company. That’s definitely good different.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  He tapped her lips with his fingertips, then sat back. “Bet you were glad it was me coming up the trail.”

  “I was prepared to hide if it was Travis being weird.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Kylie didn’t respond. Russ felt her going quiet, thoughtful, in this place that soothed her soul. “Do you get ideas here?” he asked finally.

  “Sometimes. Not on purpose. Mostly I try to stay in the moment and appreciate the surroundings.”

  “I hope I’m not ruining it for you.”

  “Not possible.”

  “A lot’s changed for you this week.” He kissed her on the top of her head, breathed in the smell of her hair. “For me, too. I have to get Daphne home and take care of business, but I won’t forget you.”

  “See how you feel when you get back to LA.”

  “You’re used to being alone.”

  “I’m alone a lot because of the work I do, and because of the life I lead—the choices I’ve made. Complete solitude isn’t a necessity.”

  “You could have a puppy, then?”

  “Puppies, cats, chickens.”

  He noticed she’d left out a husband and children. “That would give you lots to draw. You didn’t mention a man.”

  “I’ve decided to illustrate Beauty and the Beast next.”

  “A lot of inspiration around here for the beast. Kylie...” He paused before he went too far. “Come out and see me in LA. Meet my brother. Morwenna needs to see Hollywood.” He got up, dusted off his hands and his pant legs and looked at her sitting by her spring. “I’ll see you, Kylie.”

  She smiled up at him. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get you back to Moss Hill? You didn’t leave a bread-crumb trail.”

  “I have my phone. I’ll text you if I get lost.”

  But she’d been through the woods between the spring and the trail so many times, she’d created something of a trail, and he had no trouble finding his way back down to the road.

  * * *

  Daphne had her bags packed and out on the doorstep, courtesy of Dylan, when Russ arrived at Carriage Hill. She’d already said her goodbyes and gave her thanks to her hosts, and he did the same.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon,” Dylan said quietly, walking with Russ to his rental car. Daphne had already tucked herself in the passenger seat.

  “Anytime,” Russ said.

  He got in behind the wheel and watched Dylan head back into the house, Buster greeting him at the kitchen door. “Not a bad life,” he said.

  “I’d go insane,” Daphne said with an exaggerated shudder. “To each his or her own.”

  Russ grinned at her. “What would get to you first?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Buster. My door didn’t latch last night, and he tried to get into bed with me. For a second I thought it was my third husband. He was hairy, too.”

  “Daphne.”

  “Let’s go,” she said, buckling up. “I’m ready.”

  Russ thought he heard a catch in her voice, but he said nothing.

  They were out on Route 2, heading east toward Boston, before Daphne broke the silence. “Did you notice I’m wearing a neutral travel outfit and almost no jewelry?”

  He hadn’t, but he did now. “Looks comfortable. Long day ahead.”

  “I want to blend in,” she said. “I don’t want anyone at the airport or on our flight looking at me and thinking I might be someone they know. Let them think I’m a grandmother who flew east for her little guy’s piano recital. Did you ever play piano, Russ?”

  Russ grimaced, but she was flying first class again and he was flying coach—he wouldn’t have to listen to her all day.

  “You didn’t,” she said. “Marty did?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “I can see Marty at the piano as a little kid.” She stared out her window. “I hope he makes it in Hollywood, but he’s having fun doing the work, going for it—that’s part of the dream, too. It’s the best part, maybe.”

  “You’re not going to start crying, are you?”

  She shot him a look, biting back a smile. “Bastard. I’m glad you’re flying coach.” She sank back into her seat. “I want to get home to my patio and my pool. I swam in the streams in Knights Bridge a few times. It was always cold. The water warms up for three days in August, but it’s still not what I’d call warm even then. I like my heated pool.”

  She drifted into silence again. Russ concentrated on his driving and pushed back any images of Kylie jumping into a cold New England stream. Tried to, anyway.

  After another twenty miles, Daphne yawned, sitting up straight. “I had a light breakfast. I hate traveling on a full stomach. Did you eat?”

  “Coffee, eggs, toast.”

  “Alone?” She waved a hand. “None of my business, I know. I’ll whine if you open an office in that old hat factory and leave me, but I’ll have Marty to visit—until he gets rich and famous. And there’s a guy interested in me. I haven’t told you about him. He’s been to the bar a few times. He’s about my age. Always pays in cash. I don’t think he’s using his real name, but you don’t need to investigate.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I think I worked with him when I first came to Hollywood.”

  “Actor?”

  “Director. I think he’s got his eye on Marty as talent. If I recall correctly, he’s been married a few times himself. I don’t need true love at this stage in my life. I want a guy who likes to travel, laugh and doesn’t need me.” She was quiet a moment, her deep green eyes
narrowed on Russ. “That’s Kylie, isn’t it?”

  “She’s not an old Hollywood director with a bunch of ex-wives.”

  “I didn’t say he was old and I didn’t say ‘a bunch.’ My point is that Kylie doesn’t need you. She knows who she is, she can support herself, and she has a circle of friends and family—even if she also enjoys and needs solitude for herself and her work. What she wants is to allow herself to say yes to falling for you and for you to do the same.”

  “Say yes to falling for myself?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Say yes to falling for her and working out the issues you face. Knights Bridge, California, those badgers of hers.”

  “We’ve only known each other a week.”

  “You both were ready for love. A week is a start.”

  “It is,” he said, then winked at her. “Be satisfied with that, because it’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

  As the Boston skyline came into view, Knights Bridge farther and farther behind them, Russ could see that Daphne had shrunk into her seat and was pale, clutching her hands tightly in her lap as if she might fall apart if she let go.

  Damn. She was going to cry.

  He eased the car from the left lane to the middle lane. “Marty and I both took piano lessons. He lasted longer than I did.”

  “How many years?” she asked him.

  “Years?” Russ grinned. “Marty lasted three or four months. I lasted two lessons.”

  “You were incorrigible little boys, weren’t you?”

  “Just not cut out for piano lessons. Marty took trumpet in high school. He got pretty good at it. I’ve never been...creative.”

  “I believe we’re all creative. It just comes out in different ways. For you...” She hesitated. “It comes out in the way you approach your work. You wouldn’t be half as good at what you do if you weren’t creative.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. And I say you’re a damned decent sort. You threw me a lifeline just now. I was sinking, going deep.”

  “You were Debbie Sanderson again.”

  “I’m Debbie Sanderson every day. That’s what I realized being back here. I never banished her. I never became anybody else. As Marty would say, it’s good.” She shut her eyes, some of her color coming back into her cheeks. “All good.”

  Twenty-Four

  After her encounter with Russ at the spring, Kylie rode her bike out to Echo Lake without stopping. When she arrived back at Moss Hill, she was breathing hard, sweating and closer to sorting out her feelings about revealing she was Morwenna Mills. That surprised her. She’d thought she’d need more time. She’d kept the secret for months and months, but now that it was out—it was fine. Simple as that. She didn’t feel aggrieved that she’d basically been forced into it. It was bound to happen, and now it had. She’d sent out emails last night, after dinner at Carriage Hill, and she had a few calls to make today.

  She might be closer to sorting out Morwenna but she was no closer to sorting out her feelings for Russ Colton.

  She climbed off her bike, pulled off her helmet and acknowledged a surge of emotion. The wind and cool air on her bike ride had whipped tears out of her eyes. She could feel them on her cheeks and fought an urge to cry.

  Would she ever see Russ again?

  She wiped her tears with her fingertips. Yes, she would see him again, she thought. Somehow.

  She mounted the stairs to her apartment. Instead of tears, she could feel Russ’s fingertips on her cheek that morning. She smiled, letting her mind drift to the feel of his hand in hers, his strong thighs under her fingertips, the taste of his mouth—his erotic touch.

  She groaned. How was she supposed to work?

  When she reached her apartment, she noticed a small package at the base of the door—a sheet of Moss Hill letterhead folded around an acorn, with a quick note:

  Your squirrel pelted me, too. I think he was jealous. Soon, Russ.

  Kylie laughed as she went inside and placed the acorn next to Sherlock Badger. She made tea and sat on her new couch, looking out at the river as she called Lila, her parents and a few close friends. She had to leave a voice mail for Lila to call her back, and her parents took the news about her pseudonym in stride—her work as an illustrator was a mystery to them, anyway. So long as Morwenna was good for her, fine with them.

  Her illustrator friend in Chicago wasn’t surprised. “You were on my short list of people who could be Morwenna. It’s awesome, Kylie. I love those badgers. A loft in a renovated hat factory in a little New England town suits you, too, more so than a loft in Paris, even.”

  Kylie thanked her, and they moved on to other things.

  Afterward, she was able to work. It helped that she had a good feel for what she was doing with Little Red Riding Hood.

  When her phone rang that evening, she assumed it would be Lila, wanting more information about Morwenna, checking on her older sister, but it was Russ. “Marty and I just dropped Daphne off at her house,” he said. “She was happy to be back home. How are you, Kylie?”

  Just hearing his voice stirred her, as if he were there with her, touching her in all the right places. She jumped to her feet and stood at the slider onto her balcony. She cleared her throat. “Great, thanks. A little bleary-eyed. I’ve been working. And you, Russ? How are you?”

  “Marty’s buying me a beer.”

  “He’s a good big brother.”

  “Yes, he is.” Russ paused. “It was a long flight. I kept thinking about you. Tell Sherlock hi for me.”

  “Will do.”

  And with a soft chuckle, Russ said good-night and was gone.

  Kylie went out to her balcony and breathed in the chilly evening air, listening to the river rush over the old dam, imagining—trying to imagine—Russ in California.

  When she went back inside, she sat at her worktable. She wouldn’t sleep for a while yet.

  She sighed at Sherlock. “Russ Colton, PI, says hi.”

  And it was as if Sherlock shook his head, wondering what she was getting herself into this time.

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Kylie biked into town, arriving at the library as it opened. Clare Morgan had already heard about Morwenna from Maggie Sloan, who’d heard it from her twin sisters, now back at school in Boston and New York. “But we’ll all keep Morwenna a secret if that’s your wish,” Clare said with a smile.

  “It’s not a secret any longer,” Kylie said.

  “This will be a good opportunity to explain pseudonyms to the older kids. I’m not sure the younger ones will get it, but they love the Badger family and their friends. If you’re interesting in doing a presentation...”

  “I’d love to.”

  “We’ll talk more, then.”

  Clare returned to work, and Kylie joined Samantha Bennett at her favorite table with her pirate books. “If you decide your badgers need some pirates, buried treasure and sunken ships, we’ll have to talk,” Samantha said.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything until now.”

  “It’s okay. We’re still getting to know each other. I have lots yet to tell you about the eccentric Bennetts and their adventures. I get why you didn’t say anything about Morwenna at first. Then you painted yourself in a corner. You really love your work, don’t you?”

  “I do, Sam.”

  She shut a book on pirates. “Speaking of I do, Justin and I have finally set a wedding date. We’re still working on having the ceremony in England, but I think we can pull it off. You’re invited, of course, and not because I now know you’re a famous children’s author and illustrator.”

  “I’m so happy for you and Justin.”

  “Thanks. If you’d told me a year ago I’d be sitting here in this little library, engaged to a carpenter, I’d have to
ld you that you were out of your mind. Life can take the strangest twists and turns, can’t it?” Samantha didn’t wait for an answer, leaning in to Kylie. “Did I notice something between you and Russ Colton, or is that none of my business?”

  “Maybe. It could have dissipated now that he’s back in Los Angeles.”

  “You were a momentary distraction, you think?” Samantha sounded skeptical. “That’s not what Justin says. Not that we should trust a Sloan on matters of the heart, at least under ordinary circumstances, but Justin is tuned in these days. I’m meeting him for lunch at Smith’s. Join us?”

  Kylie smiled. “I’d love to.”

  * * *

  When Kylie returned to Moss Hill late that afternoon, she found her sister waiting for her at the front entrance to Moss Hill. Lila explained she’d driven to Knights Bridge from Boston to make sure Kylie was okay now that she’d revealed that she was Morwenna Mills.

  She held up a bottle of champagne. “Let’s grab two glasses and celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what?”

  But Lila insisted on waiting until they were in Kylie’s apartment. Her younger sister’s hair a darker shade of blond, her eyes a deeper blue, and she was a marathon runner and a top veterinary student, but she was without question Kylie’s best friend.

  Lila nodded to the balcony. “Let’s have our champagne out there.”

  Kylie grabbed glasses and a corkscrew and followed her sister outside. Clouds had moved in, and Kylie could see where a few drops of rain landed in the millpond. There’d be more rain as the evening wore on.

  Lila opened the champagne and splashed some into the glasses. “It was almost shirtsleeves weather in Boston today,” she said. “It’s chilly here, but I imagine we’ll be getting this rain, too. Anyway...” She raised her glass. “To Morwenna and the Badgers of Middle Branch. Congratulations, big sister.”

  They clicked glasses, and Kylie smiled. “Thank you, Lila.”

  Her sister looked out at the view. “Wow. Pretty. I could get used to this lifestyle. I love Boston, but I’m a country girl at heart. Have you thought about buying a place here?”