The Spring at Moss Hill

by Carla Neggers

  “The house I rented is for sale. I could have gardens, dogs, chickens.”

  “And a guy and kids?”

  Kylie’s mind went straight to Russ—who was in Southern California on the other side of the continent, where he had family, work, a life. Even if she’d been on his mind last night, would she stay on his mind once he got back into his routines?

  But she didn’t want to get into her romantic whirlwind over the past week. “One never knows,” she said simply.

  Lila eyed her suspiciously. “Whatever makes you happy, Kylie. You’re the type who can juggle a variety of interests and priorities, get inspired by the fun and the chaos of a family. Singular focus on work can be productive for a while, but it can’t last. We need to live life.” She shrugged, downing more of her champagne. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  “Are you talking to me or to yourself?”

  “Both of us. I’m en route to Vermont. I’m seeing a guy who wants to take me fly-fishing. Don’t laugh. I stopped here to give myself a chance to come to my senses, but it could be a fun couple of days. I have a car, so I’m not trapped in case I hate it.”

  “You’re always good with contingency plans.”

  “You do beautiful work. I’m proud to be your kid sister. I can now tell my friends that my father inspired Dr. Badger.”

  “Your friends won’t care.”

  “No, they’ll care. I gave them The Badgers of Middle Branch for Christmas. Vet humor.”

  “Christmas? But how—”

  “I stumbled on your badger books in a vet waiting room, for kids while they’re waiting for their puppies and such. I looked at it and knew it had to be your work. I started reading, and that was that. Case closed. I didn’t say anything, since it was obviously your secret. Always a matter of time before it got out, wasn’t it? Some good has come from when you used to study flies on the ceiling in algebra class. I remember you sketched a fly squad that would swoop in and save children.” Lila grinned, then held up her glass. “What are you working on now?”

  “I have some ideas for Beauty and the Beast.”

  “Ah. Do you have a beast in mind?”

  Kylie smiled. “He has to be his own self. Enjoy your fishing.”

  “It’s not the kind of fishing where you end up with something to throw on the grill. You toss your fish back into the water. People probably fly-fish around here. Anyway, Kylie, you do live in an interesting little town.”

  Lila left Kylie with most of the opened bottle of champagne. Kylie followed her back downstairs. Lila pointed out that she’d only had a few sips of champagne and was good to drive up to Vermont. She got in her car, shaking her head about the prospect of her fly-fishing.

  When Kylie returned to her apartment, she noticed she had a text message from Russ. Your cover is blown out here, too. Marty is handing out copies of your badger books to his friends.

  She laughed, typing a quick response. Tell him thank you.

  He says to tell you he paid full price.

  Double thank you. Are you with him now?

  Yes, and Daphne. Says to tell you she adores Sherlock’s style.

  Kylie laughed, told him to thank Daphne and went out to her balcony. The few drops of rain had increased to a deluge, a gray wall of water pelting onto the river. She put out her hand, catching a rush of raindrops. Nothing had changed with her announcement about Morwenna, except she could be less reclusive, less secretive and protective of her identity. She didn’t have to worry anymore about people making the connection. They knew, and what they did with it was up to them.

  She finished her glass of champagne and went inside, corking the remainder and tucking it in her refrigerator. She wasn’t drinking most of a bottle of champagne by herself.

  She sat at her worktable. Sherlock Badger stared at her from his perch on her task lamp. “I know, Sherlock. It’s quiet here. I miss Russ, too.”

  The rain continued through the night and into the morning, nixing a bike ride. Instead Kylie drove out to Carriage Hill for coffee and muffins with Olivia McCaffrey. Kylie showed Olivia her sketches for the grandmother’s house in her version of Little Red Riding Hood. A graphic designer, Olivia could see how her house had served as inspiration but also was Kylie’s own thing. They talked graphic design and illustration, which somehow turned to furniture painting.

  “Maggie and I have a new find,” Olivia said. “It’s a wardrobe Maggie discovered in the attic of her fixer-upper house in the village.”

  A “gingerbread” house off the common, Kylie knew. Given her pregnancy, Olivia could only do so much to refurbish the wardrobe. Kylie volunteered to help. Sanding and painting furniture would get her out of her apartment, and it was past time to go from acquaintance to friends with people in her adopted town.

  “Knights Bridge is your home,” Olivia said, as she walked out through the kitchen door with Kylie. “It’s not a place that cares about celebrity. Dylan and Noah feel the same way, but at the same time, we can’t pretend we don’t have to see to security.”

  Could Russ fit in here, make a place for himself?

  Kylie shook off the thought.

  Dylan came around from the back of the house and greeted her. “I’m heading to LA tomorrow with Noah. He and Phoebe just flew in. She’s staying with her mother for a few days to discuss wedding plans. Noah and I are flying back to LA together to take care of a few things. I hear you’re due to head that way. Care to join us on our flight?”

  “I have meetings in LA I’ve been putting off. I probably could arrange a few on short notice. If you’re sure—”

  “We’re sure. Noah’s jet is an experience,” Dylan added with a wink.

  “I’ll attest to that,” Olivia said.

  Kylie did well with her badgers, but private jets were out of her league. But who’d told Dylan she was due to go to LA?

  Russ.

  She smiled as she got into her car. As she pulled out onto the rain-soaked road, the sun bursting through the last of the clouds, she glanced back and saw Dylan put his arm around Olivia. Olivia leaned into him.

  Two people deeply in love, Kylie thought.

  They waved to her, and she waved back.

  Word was out about Morwenna, and she was more than okay with it.

  Twenty-Five

  Marty set a beer in front of Russ at his Hollywood bar. “I don’t think this guy Daphne’s been talking about is real,” Marty said, standing back. “The producer, director, whatever he is. I think she’s making him up, so we don’t worry about her. We’re her surrogate sons, like Noah and Dylan with Loretta. They were surrogate sons to her even before they had bazillions.”

  Daphne snorted, two stools down the bar from Russ. She moved to the stool next to him. “I love when you two bastards talk about me as if I’m not there.”

  “Might as well,” Marty said. “You only hear what you want to hear, anyway.”

  She fastened her green eyes on Russ. “You do remind me of my second husband.”

  “I thought I reminded you of Liam Neeson.”

  “My second husband was nowhere near as cute as Neeson. I’d still be married if he were. I’m that shallow. Kidding. We were young. My first husband was a footnote in my life. I think we were married all of ten minutes. It was a clear mistake for both of us. But my second guy. He could always find a reason to say no to going for it. Sometimes you need to find a reason to say yes.”

  “You’re mad because I’m not staying on at Sawyer & Sawyer full-time,” Russ said.

  “You can keep them as a client when you go out on your own. You’re worried Marty has no life, but you can turn into a grind, too. Kylie Shaw doesn’t need you to say no. She needs you to say yes.”

  Russ drank some of his beer. “Daphne, what are you talking about?”

 
Marty set a fresh martini in front of her. “She’s saying Kylie needs you to get as obsessed with her as the prince who hunted for Cinderella. All he had was her glass slipper. Kylie enjoys her fairy tales. The heroine gets what she wants in the end, right? And she had grand adventures.”

  “Exactly.” Daphne tapped the stack of Badger books Marty had on the bar. “Our Badgers of little Middle Branch are always saying yes to adventure. That’s part of their appeal.”

  Russ shook his head. “I swear I have no idea what you two are talking about.”

  Daphne tried her martini. “Whoa, strong. Marty, did you go heavy with the vodka?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Ugh. Ma’am. I prefer to think I speak with the wisdom of a woman who’s lived a full, rich life.”

  “And you do,” Marty said. “Right, Russ?”

  “Sure. Right.”

  She snorted. “That’s a strong note of skepticism in your voice. Do you see why I like your big brother better than you?”

  Marty laughed. “You’re so full of it, Daphne.”

  Russ eyed her. “Daphne, are you going to be fit to drive yourself home?”

  “I hope not. One of you boys can call me a cab.”

  “Marty can,” Russ said. “I’m clearing out before one of you two hands me a glass slipper.”

  “I have one at home, you know,” Daphne said.

  He sighed. “Of course you do.”

  “It was for a production of Cinderella about twenty years ago. I saved it. I save everything.”

  “This I want to see,” Marty said. “Russ Colton, PI, taking a glass slipper through airport security.”

  By the time Russ finished his beer and left, Daphne was starting her second martini, still talking with Marty about glass slippers and how they related to adventure, romance and a certain illustrator in Knights Bridge, Massachusetts.

  * * *

  Two days later, Russ had coffee on the deck with Julius and Loretta, up from La Jolla for a few days. “Daphne’s master class, a stalker, a secret children’s book author and illustrator,” Loretta said. “My, my. Quite a few days, Russ.”

  “No argument from me.” He picked up his mug. “Are you here because Dylan McCaffrey and Noah Kendrick are on their way?”

  “Dylan is a client,” Loretta reminded him.

  Julius was tackling one of his plants. “Noah and Dylan can’t fool themselves anymore that they don’t need proper security in Knights Bridge with the adventure travel and the entrepreneurial boot camp.”

  Loretta nodded. “They know that now. Letting you help them with security will allow them to stay focused on what they do best.”

  “You’d need to spend some time in Knights Bridge, but you won’t have to relocate there,” Julius said. “Unless you want to. You can still do work with Sawyer & Sawyer. You’d get to do interesting work and have more freedom and independence. I don’t see a downside for you.”

  “This is perfect for you, Russ,” Loretta added.

  “We’ll see,” he said, noncommittal. “Are either of you joining the meeting?”

  Julius shook his head. “This is your deal. If you want to talk about your options, I’m available, but I don’t need to be in the meeting.”

  “Same here,” Loretta said.

  Julius and Loretta stayed long enough to greet Dylan and Noah when they arrived. Then they were off for a walk, with plans to return in time for them all to have lunch together.

  Russ had never met Noah Kendrick, but he knew about him from Loretta and Julius’s descriptions.

  The two friends listened to Russ explain what he could do for them and then asked questions.

  It was a business meeting, but the three of them had San Diego in common, and if Noah and Dylan were in love with Knights Bridge women, Russ was halfway there with one.

  Maybe more than halfway there.

  * * *

  Daphne awoke at noon. Noon, she thought with a self-satisfied snort. She’d worked until 2:00 a.m. She hadn’t done that in years. She’d been obsessed with a design, as eager and happy about her work as she’d been at twenty-five.

  She scrambled a few eggs with salsa and took her plate out to the patio and sat by the pool. She hadn’t been this content in weeks. Months. She could feel herself letting go of the drama. She’d been damaged by her childhood but had found herself in her attic room in Knights Bridge and saying yes to getting on that first bus west.

  This place was her home, she thought. She’d emailed a girlfriend last night to start making plans for a long weekend in Hawaii.

  She had a good life.

  She wasn’t ready to retire. Not even close, something that had emerged during her day talking with, teaching, people as passionate about costume design as she was. The emotions stirred up by returning to Knights Bridge had settled. She appreciated seeing friends she’d forgotten she had, making new friends, but that didn’t mean she had to make radical changes in her life here, at home in Hollywood Hills. She was where she belonged, where she could be herself.

  Everyone had a story. She would tell her friends her story over lunch one day soon.

  Where did you get your start, Daphne?

  In a secret room in a New England library attic.

  She could hear her words, and she knew her friends would understand—and then they would all switch to another topic and order dessert and more wine.

  Her doorbell rang, rousing Daphne from her thoughts.

  She wasn’t expecting company.

  It was Kylie Shaw at the door. “I seized the moment,” she said, explaining that she was in town for long-put-off meetings.

  “You’re in Morwenna mode,” Daphne said.

  “It’s a big change but I’m excited. I stopped here first because...well, because I haven’t told Russ I’m here.”

  “Oh, how fun.”

  Daphne saw now that sending Russ to Knights Bridge hadn’t been a waste of his time. Her whirlwind trip had helped her get her head screwed on straight, but his stay had also helped him.

  She had a strong suspicion he’d be going back.

  “Come on,” she said to the younger woman. “I’ll grab my keys and take you out for a drink. You can meet Russ’s brother.”

  * * *

  Marty Colton was a lot like Russ and yet not like him.

  That was Kylie’s first take, at least, when she sat on a stool at the bar. Daphne sat next to her and regaled her with the perfection of Marty’s version of a French martini. “It’s so much better than the mess I served you in Knights Bridge,” Daphne said.

  Kylie appreciated the opportunity but ordered champagne.

  “Celebrating your first trip to LA?” Marty asked as he poured the champagne. “Or does Morwenna Mills drink champagne and Kylie Shaw drink wine?”

  She laughed. “I get to indulge both their tastes and sensibilities.”

  “Perfect world.”

  He had a friendly, easygoing manner. Daphne had warned her about the unprepossessing bar, but Kylie liked it. She had checked into a five-star Beverly Hills hotel. She’d already had two meetings at its restaurant. It was a gorgeous place, a treat, but Marty’s Bar was a nice change, a chance to see another side of the area.

  “How long are you in town?” Marty asked her.

  “A few days at most.”

  “She hitched a ride with Noah Kendrick and Dylan McCaffrey in Noah’s private jet,” Daphne said.

  Marty gave a low whistle.

  Kylie smiled. “I’ll be flying coach home.” She raised her glass. “To new friends,” she said, then took a sip. It was good champagne, if not as expensive as the one she’d bought the day she’d first heard Russ Colton’s name. Could it be not even two weeks ago?

  As soon as she thought his n
ame, he eased onto the stool to her right, with Daphne on her left. “I didn’t know this place had champagne,” he said in a low voice.

  “And it’s good champagne,” Kylie said.

  “Never underestimate a bar I work at,” Marty said with a grin. “What are you drinking, brother?”

  “Beer. You choose.” Russ turned to Kylie. “The fish tacos here are decent, but I don’t know if they go with champagne.” He glanced past her to Daphne. “How are you, Daphne?”

  “Distracted. I’m in the middle of a project. I drove Kylie over here, so I asked Marty to go light on the alcohol in my drink. Kylie, you can indulge. Can you find your own way back to your hotel?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Daphne jumped down from the stool. “Marty, seriously—can you get your bosses to at least buy new cushions? It’s time. The duct tape holding them together scratches, and it caught on a pricey little scarf I wore before I flew east...” She stopped abruptly. “I’ll see you all soon. Kylie, enjoy your stay. Make Russ take you out to an expensive lunch in Beverly Hills. I can recommend restaurants.”

  Russ touched Kylie’s hand. “We can move to a booth and have fish tacos. I won’t make you talk.”

  “I’m talked out after my meetings, I admit.”

  “Kylie enjoys people,” Daphne said, “but she needs recovery time.”

  Kylie smiled. “That sums it up.”

  Daphne blew them a kiss. “I’m off. Have a good night.”

  Marty pointed Russ to a booth and put in the order for tacos. Kylie started to grab her champagne, but Marty picked it up. “My job,” he said with a quick smile.

  He delivered the glass to the table and went back behind the bar. “Your brother’s a happy sort,” Kylie said as she sat across from Russ. “He likes Hollywood, doesn’t he? He seems content here.”

  “He loves it. He’s convinced his ship will come in, but if it doesn’t, he’s still happy.”

  “Because he loves the work itself, and he loves being here, doing his thing.”

  “He’ll like that you get that,” Russ said. “It’s taken me a while.”

  “What about you?”