Moonlight in the Morning

by Jude Deveraux

  Jecca gave him a look that let him know she wasn’t through with him yet, then she opened the letter. A Mr. Henry Chambers, owner of six clothing brands, said that he had been thinking about starting a line of children’s clothes. His daughter lived in Richmond, where she had a tiny boutique of upscale women’s clothes—“all manufactured by me” Mr. Chambers wrote.

  She and my granddaughter were invited to the McDowell birthday party and she saw your fashion show.

  I’d like to talk to you about designing for me. You can call your line Nell’s Closet or the Achievers’ Club, whatever you want. My daughter says the name doesn’t matter because the clothes will sell themselves. That’s high praise from her.

  I live in upstate New York, so if you’re interested, give me a call and we can meet.

  Jecca read the letter twice before looking up at her father. “Is this for real?”

  “Lucy looked him up on the Internet, and he’s a big deal in the clothing industry. Nice young man about my age. Lucy spent hours telling me all about what you did to pull that show off, so I called him.”

  Jecca’s eyes started to grow misty at the memory of the happy days before the fashion show.

  “You can work anywhere,” Joe said, his eyes boring into her.

  She was reading the letter again. “You mean that I can set up shop in the big room off the hardware store.”

  “That’s my first choice, but if you . . .” Joe said and there was no laughter or teasing in his voice, just pure pleading. At last Jecca was hearing the groveling she’d wanted from him, his apology. “When I got your doctor to buy that building, I didn’t mean to—”

  She couldn’t bear to hear the rest of that sentence. She thought she’d wanted an apology, but she didn’t. All Joe Layton had wanted was to be near his daughter. To achieve that, he’d given up the store that had been his life. She clutched his hand, scarred from years of work,yeat=" hardened by steel and lumber. “It’s okay, Dad. Really. I understand why you did it. But . . .”

  “But that stupid boy ran away,” Joe said, and there was disgust in his voice. “You’d think that a man who could curse like that would have some courage, that he’d—”

  Jecca squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. I guess I didn’t mean as much to him as I thought I did. And it was all my fault.”

  “Humph!” Joe said. “Since when do women ever make up their own minds? You think I let Lucy call the shots? Hell no! I told her what it was going to be like and the only thing she was allowed to say was yes.”

  Jecca looked at her father’s eyes and saw pure terror. “You haven’t asked her yet, have you?”

  “Lord no!” he said and ran his hand over his face. “I’m scared to death.”

  “Dad, what do you say that I take today off from the gallery and you and I drive up to visit Mr. Chambers? And I think we should go see Joey and the kids too. He said he’s made some changes to the store.”

  “Don’t get me started on that!” Joe said as Jecca got up to get her cell phone. As he started complaining about what had been done to his store, the fear began to leave his eyes.

  Twenty

  “This just came by bike messenger for you,” Della said as she handed Jecca a heavy package.

  Jecca couldn’t help groaning. It looked like yet another artist had sent her a special delivery package of his work.

  It had been four days since she and her dad had gone to see Mr. Chambers, but she hadn’t told Della about it. Jecca knew it was an offer she couldn’t pass up. It wasn’t what she’d had in mind for her life, but it was creative, she knew she was good at it, and she would be able to make a living at it.

  “There’s a lot you’ll need to learn,” Mr. Chambers had said. “I don’t believe in designers living in high-rises and not knowing who sews the clothes. You’ll need to learn everything, from pattern cutting to buttons and trims,” he said. “All of it, from the ground up.”

  “Then she’ll need to be in New York?” her dad had asked, and his expression said it all. He wanted Jecca to return to Edilean with him. He’d changed his life to be near her, and now she was going to be staying in New York.

  Mr. Chambers looked from one to the other. “Give me three years, then you can live wherever you want. If these things sell, that is. It’s all based on that.”

  Jecca didn’t say much, just nodded. The more work, the better. She didn’t want time to think about Tristan and what she’d left behind. Her dad had asked Lucy about him on his nightly calls, but no one in Edilean—not even Mrs. Wingate—knew where he was or what he was doing.

  “Livie says Jecca broke Tristan’s heart and he’ll never recover,” Lucy told Joe.

  “Yeah, well, Jecca’s heart ain’t exactly healthy,” Joe had replied.

  Jecca had formally accepted Mr. Chambers’s offer twenty-four hours after the meeting, but she wanted to talk to Mr. Preston before telling anyone else. She wanted to keep the apartment and to tell him that even though Della was young, she could handle the gallery. Besides, Jecca had seen Della’s oils and they weren’t going to sell; she needed a job.

  Jecca had an appointment to see Mr. Preston tomorrow when he returned from some overseas trip, and after that she’d start her new job. She’d already spent hours sitting in Central Park and sketching ideas for clothes. Paris meets Edilean was what she was after. Small town America flavored with high fashion.

  The night after she talked to Mr. Chambers, Jecca knew the person she most wanted to talk to was Nell. She called her home number and was glad when Nell answered.

  Nell wasn’t happy. “You left me,” she said, her voice a mixture of anger and tears. “I thought we were together, but you and Uncle Tris left me.”

  It took Jecca a while to calm Nell down and reassure her that she hadn’t been left behind, at least not permanently. She told Nell about the job and how she’d be in New York for about three years. “Then Dad wants me to go live in Edilean. Have you met my father?”

  “Yeah,” Nell said, but her voice was dull, spiritless. “He doesn’t look like you.”

  “I take after my mother’s side of the family. Nell, I’ll come visit you as soon as I can. I promise.”

  Nell said nothing.

  “If your mother will let you, you can come here to New York and help me design clothes and buy fabric. How does that sound?”

  “Okay,” Nell said, but still without much enthusiasm. “Do you know where Uncle Tris is?” There was a hiccup in Nell’s voice, and Jecca winced. It was one thing for Tris not to contact Jecca, but it was deeply unkind of him to leave Nell!

  “No,” Jecca said softly, “I don’t.” If she didn’t change the subject, she’d start crying and that would make Nell cry, then . . . “I have to go,” Jecca said. “Think of things you’d like to wear and let me know.”

  “I will,” Nell said, but the sadness was still in her voice.

  When Jecca hung up, she cursed at Tristan. How could he do such a thing to Nell?

  Jecca opened the package that had just been delivered, but it wasn’t some would-be artist’s work, as she’d thought. Instead, inside was one of those art kits in a shiny wooden box.

  She couldn’t help but remember the last one she’d seen. Tristan had bought just such a set for Nell—and Jecca had let him know what she thought of it.

  Frowning at the memory of all that had happened since then, she set the big box on her desk and opened it. It was all colored pencils, a goodencv>

  It was a moment before she saw the business card stuck inside the lid.

  Dr. Tristan Aldredge

  Family Medicine

  480 Park Avenue

  New York, New York

  It listed his phone numbers.

  Jecca stood there for a full minute staring at the card, not understanding what she was seeing.

  “What do you think?” Della asked from the doorway. “I think he matted it wrong and this is the top.”

  Jecca didn’t answer, just kept staring at the card.
r />   “You okay?” Della asked. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

  Jecca held out the card to her.

  Della read it but didn’t understand. “This was in that box of pencils? Some doctor wants to be an artist?” When Jecca said nothing, Della’s eyes brightened. “This is the ‘bad breakup’ guy, isn’t it?”

  Jecca managed to nod.

  “Looks like he opened an office here in New York,” Della said. “So?”

  Jecca just stared at her.

  “Go!” Della said. “Go now! This second.” She put the card in Jecca’s hand and shoved her toward the door. “Maybe if you get back with him you’ll stop weeping every time someone says the word love.”

  “I don’t—” Jecca began but knew that she did.

  Della was holding out Jecca’s bag to her. “And here, take this.” It was a red pencil.

  Thirty seconds later, Jecca was out the front door and hailing a taxi.

  By the time she got to Tristan’s office, her heart was pounding in her throat. What would she say to him? They’d had no contact since she’d run out on him that day in Edilean. What if—She could think of a thousand what-ifs, but he’d sent the card to her and he’d . . . He’d moved his practice to New York. That was the main thing.

  There was a shiny brass plaque in the wall outside the office door. Tristan’s name was under another man’s, so it looked like he’d gone into practice with someone else.

  She took a deep breath, wished she’d taken time to check her makeup, and opened the door. The first thing she saw were four truly beautiful young women sitting in the waiting room and flipping through magazines.

  “Looks like I’m in the right place,” she said under her breath and went to the reception window. She wasn’t surprised to see two middle-aged women there.

  The larger one looked Jecca up and down and seemed to say that she knew why she was there.

  “I’d like to see Dr. Aldredge,” Jecca said.

  “You have to have an appointment, and the first one available is in February.”

  Jecca blinked at her. That was months away. “This is personal. He’ll want to see me.”

  Behind her, she heard a sound and turned to look at the women sitting in the waiting room. All of them were looking at Jecca as though to say, Been there, tried that.

  “It’s always personal,” the woman behind the window said. “Give me your name and you can see him in February.”

  Jecca looked at the colored pencil in her hand. “Would you please give this to Tristan?”

  “Sure,” the woman said and started to drop it into a pencil holder.

  “Are you Jecca?” the other nurse asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Hang on, I’ll get him.”

  The first woman looked Jecca up and down and obviously thought she wasn’t what she’d expected. But Jecca was pleased that they knew her name.

  She stepped back from the window. There were no vacant chairs, so she stood against the wall. The other women were staring at her in curiosity.

  When the door to the office opened and the young women sighed, Jecca knew Tristan was there. She stood up straight and held her breath.

  He stepped forward, shut the door behind him, and looked around a moment before he saw her. He looked good, better than she remembered, and she knew that she loved him more than she thought possible.

  “I didn’t quit being a doctor,” he said, “but I moved to where you are. If Joe can give up his hardware store, I can give up my town.”

  She took a step toward him. “You didn’t call.”

  “I know,” he said and went toward her. “I figured action was better than promises. It took me a while to move.” He held out his hand to her. “Your dad . . .”

  “I know,” she said as her fingertips touched his. “He’s sorry for what he did, but he’s in awe of your cursing.”

  Tris gave a half grin. “I described what he could do with his building in very precise, anatomical terms.”

  She stepped closer to him. “Nell is depressed because we both left her.”

  “I needed to sort out my life first,” he said, then held out his arms to her. “Jecca, I love you.”

  She went to him and kissed him with all the longing she’d felt for six and a half weeks. She’d thought she was never going to see him again—and she’d seen how empty her life was without him.

  “Will you marry me?” he asked, his lips on her ear.

  Jecca started to say yes, but there was a collective hiss around them. They had both forgotten the other people in the room.e iv>

  Turning, they looked at the women, and all of them, including the two women behind the window, were looking at Tristan expectantly.

  “I guess I better do this right,” he said, “or I won’t have any patients left.” He went onto one knee in front of her.

  “Jecca, will you—Oh, wait.” He fumbled in the pocket of his white coat and withdrew a little leather box with Kim’s distinctive design on it. Jecca drew in her breath—as did all the women.

  Still on one knee, he opened the box—and every woman bent toward it. This time a little gasp went up.

  “Is it okay?” Tris asked as he moved it around so they could all see the ring with the big three-carat diamond. There was a universal nod of approval.

  “Jecca, my love,” he said, “will you marry me and live with me wherever you want to? Whither thou goest . . . That sort of thing?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He put Kim’s ring on Jecca’s finger, then stood up and kissed her.

  Jecca kissed him back—and held her left hand out so the women could see the ring.

  “Happy?” he whispered against her lips.

  “Sublimely so,” she said.

  “Still afraid?”

  “Not anymore. I love you, Tristan. With all my heart.”

  “I didn’t think I could love anyone as much as I love you,” he said and kissed her again.

  Epilogue

  It was 9 A.M., light was peeping through the hotel curtains, and Jecca was snuggled against Tristan. When she saw the clock she jumped. She had to get to work! But then she relaxed and smiled. It was the morning after their wedding, and this afternoon they were getting on a plane to fly to beautiful, luscious New Zealand for their honeymoon.

  She couldn’t help but think how good it was that she didn’t have to get up early to run downtown to some dirty warehouse to go through hundreds of bolts of fabric. Tris said she tried to make her job sound onerous, but the truth was she was enjoying every minute of it.

  She’d laughed because he was right. She genuinely loved her new job. It was especially nice that her background in the tool business had put her a step ahead of the other young people trying to learn the trade. Jecca could not only use any machine put in front of her, but she could also fix it when it broke. She’d become the darling of the men and women who were far down the ladder from the lofty designers. Because she was so popular, she got all her questions answered about things like how to best insert a piping around the armscy so the raw edge was hidden. She’d soon learned to show a design to the workers first and was told what was too time-consuming and therefore too expensive to produce. As a result, the designs she presented to e iv>ains, Mr. Chambers were always cost-effective.

  For all that Jecca loved what she was doing, she knew that Tris hadn’t been happy with his new practice in New York. He never complained, but she found out that he’d spent a lot of time on the phone with Reede consulting about patients in Edilean. And when he went “home”—Jecca thought of the place that way too—he spent most of his time making house calls.

  The first couple of times they went back, Jecca felt the people of Edilean—his relatives, that is—watching her. It was a bit creepy until Nell told her what was going on.

  “They say that you met Uncle Tris when his arm was broken so you’ll expect him to spend all his time helping you put on fashion shows.”

  That was such an
absurd idea that Jecca didn’t at first understand it. “They think I’ll leave when I see that he’s a conscientious, hardworking doctor who cares deeply about the people under his care?”

  Nell grinned. “Yes.”

  “Nell,” Jecca said, smiling, “they’re going to see that I have too much work of my own to do to begrudge Tristan whatever time he needs for his work. Now, what do you think of this sketch?”

  The truth was that Jecca was willing to make any compromise, any sacrifice, for a man who’d done what Tris did for her. A college friend of his had been begging him for years to move to New York and go into practice with him. Tris had never considered the idea, but after Jecca walked out on him—and after Joe had told him a few hard truths—he’d called his friend and said he’d be there.

  The only person Tris told about what he was doing was Reede, and Tris had sworn him to secrecy.

  Sometimes Jecca marveled at the enormity of what Tristan had done. For her. For no other reason than that he loved her more than anyone or anything else in the world. When he’d left his beloved practice he hadn’t known anything about Jecca’s offer of a job that would take just three years of training. Tris thought he was leaving Edilean—his roots, his home, his family—forever.

  When Jecca told him about Mr. Chambers and that in three years she would be able to move back to Edilean and still keep working, there had been tears in Tristan’s beautiful eyes. He’d tried to hide them, but they were there. Jecca wanted to hold him but she also wanted to save his pride.

  “But I will not have my office in that room off my father’s new store. That’s where I draw the line. He’ll have me waiting on customers—”