Once in a Blue Moon Page 2

  “What in the world is Dr. Court doing in this out-of-the-way place?”

  Her mother frowned. “I’m not sure, some kind of research, I think.”

  “Yeah, research on rudeness.”

  “Addie!”

  She kissed her mother on the cheek. “Bye, Mom. Love you. See you tonight.”

  Addie walked briskly across the lawn to the long tree-bordered driveway, her desert boots shuffling through crisp fallen leaves. She shifted the pumpkin in her arms and considered driving her car to work, then rejected the idea immediately. The two-mile walk into town was a discipline she’d adhered to religiously since she’d come home to live three years ago.

  At the end of the drive she skirted the gleaming white and gold Rivers Farm sign, and turned onto the tree-shaded dirt path that led to town. As she walked, she remembered the sounds she’d heard on the path last night and her near panic. How silly it all seemed in the light of this beautiful fall morning.

  The whip of whirling wheels rushing through the leaves behind her warned her to step aside.

  “Hey, Miss Rivers.” Bradley and Amy Lee Simples, neighbors from the farm next to the Rivers place, swept by on their bikes. Late for school as usual.

  “Hi, Brad, Amy. I’ve got that Harry Potter book you’ve been waiting for, Brad.”

  “Okay. Be in after school,” he called back, and waved farewell as they drew ahead of her.

  There was little traffic on the highway alongside the path, but Bradley and Amy Lee would be entering town soon and she wanted to call after them to be careful. She quelled her protective urge, but it made her wonder, as she often did, if she’d ever have children of her own to worry about.

  She picked up her pace, anxious now to get the day started.

  Witt Court stood at his guest room window and watched the slender figure cross the lawn, go through the trees, and onto the driveway. Earlier he had put a match to the wood laid in the fireplace and it had caught nicely, but the morning chill still wasn’t off the room. Shivering, he pulled a navy-blue sweater hastily over his head, ran fingers through his dark hair, then continued his interested surveillance.

  Addie’s hair was a coppery brown. He couldn’t take his eyes off the lively shining tresses. Of medium length and wavy, her hair glinted gold and red when it caught the sun’s beams. It bounced freely around her ears and off her shoulders as she hurried away into the protection of the trees. He waited impatiently until she came into sight again at the end of the drive.

  He liked the way she walked with confidence and purpose, even with the burden of the pumpkin. She turned onto the path next to the highway, and he could see her profile. She was too far away for him to see her face clearly, but he wished that he could. Two children rode past her. They waved and spoke, but soon all three were out of sight “Well, are you going to stare out the window at beautiful women all day, Professor Court?” he asked himself. “Not a good beginning for your hideaway time.”

  Turning his attention to the stunning green, gold, and russet autumn landscape that enveloped the farm, he smiled and breathed a sigh of satisfaction. He’d arrived late last night, but this was the scenery he’d hoped for in this part of the country.

  Blue Springs was a tiny historical town on the West Virginia-Virginia border. Because of its out-of-the-way location and the stubborn determination of old families with large land holdings, Blue Springs had miraculously escaped the evils of development and tourism. He suspected the Rivers family was holding to their land by the skin of their teeth, thus the necessity for a bed-and-breakfast.

  Planning and scouting out this retreat had taken a year, but he was pleased with the results of his efforts. Not sure how long this research project would take, he decided that for a change he wouldn’t be in a hurry.

  He’d told Mrs. Rivers he would be here for a week, but his room was spacious, pleasing to the eye, and lushly comfortable, and judging from the food he’d sampled last night, Mrs. Rivers was a superb cook. More importantly, the Blue Springs Public Library owned a collection of Appalachian and Allegheny tales and legends second to none.

  And an intriguing librarian, he reminded himself.

  No one knew where he was and he wasn’t expected back for a month. This looked like the perfect place to hide for a while.

  Addie reached the village and ahead of her stretched Elm Street and its row of historic eighteenth-century houses, some with deep wraparound porches, others with sturdy columns and long green shutters. Lulu Murphy waved to her from the front porch of the home she’d turned into an antiques shop.

  Lulu stopped sweeping and called, “Hey, Addie. Lookin’ forward to seein’ you and Buck Friday night. I’m makin’ your favorite roast pork with sausage stuffing.”

  “Great. Sounds like fun. See you.” Roast pork was Buck’s favorite, not hers. People had become so accustomed to the two of them together that they tended to link their likes and dislikes. Addie admired Lulu. Lulu meant well, and she had it all: an adoring husband, two beautiful children, and a business of her own.

  She hurried, turning the corner onto the square. Library hours were nine to five weekdays, and nine to nine on Saturdays. It was almost nine o’clock.

  A car drew to the curb next to her and stopped.

  “Slow down, beautiful. That library can get along without you for five minutes.”

  “Oh, hi, Joe. It won’t open until I get there. Any increase in the Blue Springs crime wave?”

  It was an old joke between Addie and the chief of police. Joe Bolo had gone to high school with her, graduating tenth in their class of twenty. Buck had been class valedictorian, Addie the salutatorian, and they had gone on to Penn State. Joe had attended one year of community college, taken a course in criminology and town administration, then headed happily home to take charge of the Blue Springs police force of three.

  He turned off the ignition of the police cruiser, and got out to relieve her of the pumpkin and carry it for her as they headed toward the library.

  “Well, let’s see,” he said, considering her question. ���Burt Manning is missing two shiny new hoes at the hardware store, Mavis thinks kids are stealing the best pumpkins from her display in front of the grocery store, and old Mrs. Tabor swears a peeping torn is staring through her bedroom window every night. Heaven knows what for.”

  Addie laughed. “Gee, Joe, things are really, going downhill in this burg. Do you think you can handle the intrigue and danger?”

  “I don’t know. May have to import more manpower.” He winked at her, a wistful look in his eyes. “Don’t suppose you’d have lunch with me today. It’ll be some warmed up by noon, and we could take a sandwich to the park, or maybe we could go to the diner. You love Dixie’s meatloaf special. I’m sure Buck wouldn’t care.”

  Addie almost said yes, but she didn’t want to give him any false encouragement. Joe hadn’t lost the serious crush he’d had on her since high school. She loved him dearly as a buddy, but that was as far as it would ever go.

  And why did everyone want to tell her what she liked to eat? It was downright embarrassing.

  “I don’t really care whether Buck approves. I’m not married to him, you know,” she said. “But I can’t have lunch with you today, Joe. The nursery school is coming in for story hour.”

  “How about Friday, Ad?”

  Why not? She thought. She was irritated with people taking her and Buck for granted. Maybe she would shake things up a bit. And she hadn’t been to the diner for a while.

  “Sure, Joe. I’d love to.”

  A huge grin stretched his earnest face, and his round rosy cheeks bunched in delight. His sturdy shoulders, on a level with hers, straightened and she could have sworn he walked taller. Addie was glad she’d said yes. She wished it were that easy to make everyone happy.

  “Looks like this fat pumpkin came direct from the patch at Rivers Farm. Where do you want it, beautiful?”

  She indicated the bales of hay and the scarecrow arranged on the front l
awn of the library. “Put it next to the scarecrow. We’re going to carve it tomorrow.”

  They said good-bye, and Addie climbed the broad stone steps to the entrance of the tall imposing old house, which had been converted to a library forty years ago. A wealthy book lover had left her home to the town, along with a small trust fund to run the library for years to come.

  As she opened the double doors, Addie vowed to remember to lock them this evening. Admiring, as always, the finely etched glass panels in the heavy walnut doors, she stepped into the vestibule. The quiet soothed her immediately. Coffee usually greeted her first thing, but he didn’t show this morning.

  With deep pleasure she inhaled the aroma of mellowed oak floors polished to a high shine, musty old books, new fresh-leafed books, and of ink and paper. The silence and the scents always gave her an odd assurance, and a feeling of satisfaction about what she was doing.

  Addie often worried whether she’d made the right decision three years ago. A year after the death of her father, she completed her master’s in creative writing and came home to be with her mother. She’d reasoned that she could write novels as well, or better, in Blue Springs than she could anywhere, her mother needed her, and the town was crying for a competent full-time librarian. It had all seemed to fit together at the time, had seemed so right.

  However, no matter how much she worried or wondered about her decision to return to the tiny town, being in the library always set her straight.

  When she worked with books, reading, cataloging, researching, organizing events for children, she forgot about everything else. She forgot her resentment of the assumption that she and high school sweetheart, Buck Harvey, were a done deal, that they were as good as married, and that he owned her. She forgot that her novel wasn’t progressing well, and that she couldn’t conjure up the missing ingredient. She forgot that she still held misty, girlish dreams and notions of a deep and passionate romance - dreams and notions that wouldn’t let her go.

  Whistling Willie Nelson’s “Crazy,” she shook her head impatiently, flipped the switch that lit the dusty crystal chandeliers high overhead, and headed for the receiving desk.

  As she passed the door to the cellar, she heard a long, plaintive meow. Coffee sounded unhappy. She stopped and stared at the cellar door. Coffee couldn’t be in there. When she left last night Coffee had been roaming free. The cat couldn’t have let himself into the cellar.

  He meowed again, and she opened the door. Coffee leaped out, landing two feet past her, then sat and looked at her disdainfully, as if it was her fault he’d been closed up.

  “Sorry, Coffee cat. I sure don’t know how you got in there.”

  Dank smells from the cellar swam up the stairs and under her nose, and she slammed the door hastily. In August, a particularly rank odor, sickening to the stomach, had sifted up from the dark cellar. Donny Jim, the handyman, had searched the place, and found nothing, but whiffs of the rotten odor still remained. She hated the cellar.

  “Okay, let’s go, cat. Time for work.”

  She continued to her desk, and Coffee followed, purring at her heels. Evidently, he’d forgiven her.

  An unfamiliar legal-size pad of blue paper lay in the center of her desk. A black ballpoint pen lay on top of the pad.

  Interesting, she thought, strange. They don’t belong to me. They weren’t there when I left last night.

  The door was unlocked, remember, Addie? But who on earth would just walk into the library and leave paper and pen? Blue Springs held a few eccentric residents, but none of them had ever done anything like this before. Donny Jim Slater, the handyman who came twice a week to clean and repair, wasn’t due until later today, and Donny Jim was a deaf mute, who could barely read. He surely wouldn’t be carrying around a pad of paper.

  A quick look around revealed no damage had been done, so Addie relaxed. This was a small town and the library belonged to the people. One of her regulars must have returned a book after hours, then sat down to make themselves at home. That would also explain Coffee being accidentally locked up in the cellar.

  Sure, she thought, nothing to worry about. She put on a pot of coffee and opened the inside shutters, grateful for the sunlight that brightened gloomy corners, then turned on the CD player. Bach’s Keyboard Concerto drifted down the aisles, and wafted randomly through hidden nooks and pinched crannies of the rambling old house.

  While Addie sorted books she tried to recapture the reassuring feelings she’d experienced when she first entered, but they were gone. Worry scratched at her like Coffee’s paws.

  2

  JANIE WAS SO SCARED SHE could hardly breathe. She ran as fast as she could, but the wailing, groaning ghost from the graveyard who collected little girls’ pigtails, hovered close behind her.” Addie told the ghost story with drama; using wavery tones and shuddering sighs. “She tripped over a rock and fell, A bony hand reached out and grabbed her hair.”

  “Oh, no,” screamed a girl, and the boys laughed.

  The younger children had nightmares if she told them horror stories, so she reserved the scariest tales for the older children. The fifth grade class from Blue Springs Elementary sat on the floor in front of her, wide-eyed and unusually well behaved today.

  From the doorway of the children’s reading room came a hideous screech. The children screamed and turned to see the principal of their school with his shoulders hunched in an awkward stance, his arms and hands all crablike, and his face scrunched up like a monster.

  They all laughed and pointed their fingers. “Mr. Harvey. We’re not afraid of you,” said one little girl.

  “Heck, no, Mr. Harvey,” said Brad Simples. “We know you too good.”

  “Well, shucks. I thought maybe I’d help Miss Rivers scare you to death. Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

  “Yeah,” said Brad. “Takes more than a fake scream and an ugly face to scare us.”

  Buck Harvey grinned, straightened his blue striped tie, and patted his boxy, immaculate camel sports coat into place. He tried to keep up-to-date with the latest in male fashion trends, and liked to look sharp.

  Addie gave him a small wave. “Hello, Mr. Harvey. How nice of you to visit.”

  “We needed cleaning supplies and I had to make a trip to the hardware store, so I thought I’d drop by and see how my favorite class is doing.”

  Addie tried to subdue the irritation that simmered in her, but failed.

  Buck had developed the habit of dropping into the library at odd hours lately, and if one of his classes was visiting he always found a reason to be there. Cleaning supplies from the hardware store was just one of many excuses he’d used lately. Addie resented the interruptions, but the children seemed to love them. They loved Mr. Harvey, and they knew he loved them.

  He was always cheerful and pleasant, so Addie found it difficult to protest or complain. Addie knew Buck genuinely loved her, and she’d accepted the fact that someday they would marry and spend the rest of their lives in Blue Springs, but she ached to loosen the collar she felt he’d already fastened around her neck.

  “Your visits always make us happy, Mr. Harvey,” she said, straining to smile. “But you’ve interrupted a good story. Do you mind if we get back to it? Miss Lewis will be here to walk this class back to school in five minutes, and the nursery children will be here at noon.”

  “Uh, oh. Sorry, kids, but I think Miss Rivers wants to finish your ghost tale.” He smiled at them, then winked at her, and gave her a meaningful look. “Everything okay here, Miss Rivers?”

  “Fine and dandy, Mr. Harvey, as it always is,” she replied. She glared at him, then smiled sweetly. “Safe as little bugs in a rug, or peas in a pod, or cats in a barn, or mice in an attic, or whatever. We are super okay.”

  “Right. Good. Great.” The grin on his kind face grew bigger. He knew he’d irritated her, and it amused him. Nothing ever bothered Buck. Addie could yell and scream and shake her fists at him, and he would just smile. “See you later, kids.”r />
  Buck waved and turned to leave, disappearing into the greater library area. Addie heard him speak to someone. She thought he offered assistance to whoever had come in, and she wished that he wouldn’t assume responsibility where he had none. Most of the library regulars were familiar with the layout and Addie’s rules, and if she was occupied with children, or otherwise not available, they helped themselves.

  “Hey, Miss Rivers, you goin’ to finish the story?”

  “Absolutely.” She heard Buck in conversation with someone, but turned her attention back to the children.

  “Addie is having story hour in the back room there “

  “Yes, I know,” said Will.

  He’d been amused at the sign on the desk. ADDIE’S READING A STORY. HELP YOURSELF.

  “You’re a stranger. May I help you? I’m Buck Harvey, principal of the elementary school.”

  “I’m Will Court,” he said, as they shook hands. “I’m traveling through the region gathering folk tales and legends. A friend told me Blue Springs supposedly has one of the best collections in the country. If it’s as good as I’ve been told, I’m surprised you don’t have a library full of scholars.”

  “It is a superb compilation, but we’re a small town, and the library’s skills are limited. The computer system is so antiquated we’re not even on the Internet. So you can see why little is known about the collection.” Buck Harvey smiled genially. “I think we’d just as soon keep things the way they are anyway. We’d rather welcome the few drop-ins like you, than try to handle a crowd.”

  “Who gathered the stories?”

  “My fianc��e, Addie Rivers, the librarian. Appalachia is the setting for a novel she’s writing. In her research, she kept running into old tales and legends she’d never heard before. She kept them and added them to the files that were already here.”

  So, Addie with the smoky eyes and coppery hair was engaged to be married. Will’s sharp disappointment surprised him. He should have known she’d be taken. He’d come to this small town to find new material for his books and lecture series, but found Blue Springs’ real hidden treasure was its librarian. Obviously intelligent, with long legs, a sensual mouth, and an expressive face, Addie Rivers would be difficult to ignore.