Once in a Blue Moon Read online

  “Everyone in town watches me, Buck.”

  She watched as he placed the meat precisely in his mouth, chewed his calculated number of times, she could never remember whether it was fifteen or twenty, then dabbed delicately at the corners of his lips with the napkin. She’d watched him do this a thousand times. Why was it all of a sudden irritating?

  “Yes, even Dr. Court watches you. I don’t like him, Addie, and I don’t trust him. I particularly don’t like him sleeping in the same house with you. You and your mother are defenseless out there in the country by yourselves.”

  “My mother likes him, Buck, and that’s enough for me. She’s a pretty good judge of character.”

  “Ha! That’s what you think. Remember the time she fell for that con man’s spiel about getting her house painted for half-price? He put one coat of watered-down paint on it. When it rained the paint washed right off, and the salesman was nowhere to be found.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. So far Will has been very helpful. When he isn’t researching or hiking, he lends Bobby Heed a hand with the chores.”

  Perturbed at this news that Will was making himself so at home, Buck choked on his coffee, and the hot liquid dripped off the cup and down his chin. Tiny brown spots soiled his blue and gold striped tie. Furious that he’d been so careless, he dabbed at them with his immaculate handkerchief, all the while glancing up at her with angry looks.

  “Addie, I can’t believe how you two have let that man worm his way into your good graces. You really need looking after, which is exactly why I feel we should be married soon. This is the first of November. How about a Christmas wedding? Six weeks should give you plenty of time to pull a few things together. Doesn’t have to be fancy.”

  The knots in her tummy tightened, and a whining noise, like mosquitoes, droned in her ears. She shook her head to make the sound disappear, but it persisted. She drew a deep breath and released it slowly, slowly. The whining, buzzing phenomenon faded away, but left her light-headed. She lifted her fork and poked indifferently at the mashed potatoes. The golden pool of melted butter on top of the mound slid down to swim on her plate.

  “What’s the matter, honey? If you don’t like the December idea, we can do January, maybe. But I don’t want to put it off any longer than that.”

  Addie had an earthshaking thought. For the first time she wondered if she sincerely loved Buck. Did she really want to marry him, or had he become a habit she’d neglected to review, a rut she’d let herself travel in? They’d become a team of well-trained ponies pulling a wagonload of expectations placed there by her mother and the town.

  “I’m not ready to talk…”

  Dixie saved her. She appeared at the booth, pulled her pencil from behind her ear, and began to add up their bill. She stopped writing and stared at Addie’s plate.

  “Adelaide Rivers. I never in my whole life seen you leave a plate of meatloaf and potatoes. Are you sick?”

  “No, no, Dixie. I’m just not hungry today.”

  “Well, Lord have mercy, come to think of it, it’s probably them murders that are shakin’ you up.” She frowned, and looked at Addie with speculation. “Scares me to death thinkin’ about them poor girls, and thinkin’ there might be someone around here who could take a notion to kill any of us. You takin’ good care of her, Buck?”

  “Always have, always will.” He smiled and reached for Addie’s hand resting beside her plate. “Nobody’s going to hurt Addie. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “Not with you around, eh, Buck?” asked Dixie.

  “Right! Things are going along like we’ve always planned. I like to make sure our lives are tidy and neat. Eliminates a lot of stress. In fact we were just talking about setting a wedding date.”

  “God help us, it’s about time.” Addie smiled and refrained from pulling her hand out of Buck’s grasp. Dear God, what was wrong with her? Ashamed of her traitorous reaction, she lowered her gaze to the table to regain her composure. Light beamed down from the garish fake Tiffany lamp hanging over the table and caught their hands.

  The Rolex, which Buck had saved for years to buy, gleamed gold and silver on his smooth slender wrist. A different watch on another wrist flashed into her mind before she could suppress the memory. An old, but rich and luxurious leather band held the simple gold watch on Will’s strong wrist. Tufts of dark hair curled over the leather, hugging the band as if they were at home there, comfortable with its feel and shape.

  Remembering now the warm feel of the worn band and his skin when she’d run her fingers down his arm to catch his hand, Addie flushed with guilt.

  Dixie laughed. “What’s the matter, Addie, sweet? Talkin’ about the wedding embarrass you? Never known you to be shy. Look at them pink cheeks, Buck, You’d think you two jest met.”

  Buck smiled what she called his “endearing” smile, the smile that showed everyone just how much he loved them, the smile that made everyone say he was “so charming.”

  Oh, my. God, Addie, you have to stop this. Where is the love you felt for Buck? Has it been simply a feeling of great friendship and companionship all along? Did you fall into step with everyone’s hopes and expectations because it was easier? Or is it Will Court who has muddied the waters?

  No, she had to be honest with herself. She’d been looking differently at Buck for more than a year. That’s why she continued to put off the wedding. But her crazy reactions to Will Court had certainly highlighted her confusion about Buck.

  “What do you hear about Joe?” asked Dixie.

  “I visit every day, and he’s still in a coma,” said Buck. “Addie goes every day, too.”

  Addie was surprised at this information from Buck. She had no idea that he visited Joe so frequently. Buck had always been fond of Joe, but a bit condescending.

  “Poor Joe,” said Dixie. “He jest knew he could protect you, and there wouldn’t be no problems. Told me so himself. Always had a crush on you, Addie. I think he still does. I’m prayin’ for him. How’s your dog doin’?”

  Before Buck could answer for her again, Addie said, “Thanks for asking, Dixie. Rags is still in the clinic. The vet said he’d have to stay another week or so.”

  “I’m real sorry about what’s been happening. It’s depressing. Hell’s bells, let’s change the subject,” said Dixie. “I hear you got a real hunk stayin’ with you. That must be kind of exciting. I seen him goin’ into the library a time or two. Mavis and the girls in the flower shop next door say they been using the library a lot lately.”

  “Dr. Will Court,” said Addie, with a smile. “I wondered why Mavis and Mertie were so interested in books all of a sudden. Which reminds me, I’ve got to relieve Lulu.”

  “I’ll walk you over” said Buck.

  Addie waved good-bye to Buck and Lulu with relief. Buck had insisted on inspecting every inch of the library, going down every aisle, poking his nose into every closet. He’d even gone down into the foul, damp cobweb filled cellar, which was empty. Addie avoided the cellar like a dreaded toothache. She hated the spiders there, and the fetid smell, and it was useless for storage because the clammy air destroyed the books. Finally, she was alone.

  Thursday afternoons were usually slow. No children’s classes, no book groups, but sometimes an occasional reader wandering in to look for a good book. Addie loved the quiet, the sense of being protected, enclosed by walls of books filled with wisdom, history, adventure, and love.

  Will wasn’t here.

  She would have known the minute she stepped through the doors. She didn’t know how she knew, but she always did. It was as if she had built-in antennae. Not only did she know when he was in the library, she didn’t have to see him to sense where he was in the sizeable converted house; behind the history stack, or in the reference section, or in the small galley kitchen.

  Shaken at her deep disappointment in his absence, Addie shook her head in confusion. What is happening to me? One minute I’m scared to death of him, and the next minute I want to
throw myself into his arms and make mad passionate love. She massaged her temples, trying to avert the headache she felt coming on.

  Stop this! Get to work. Lots of leaves to clean up. When Donny Jim didn’t show, the clean-up jobs fell to Addie. She seized the rake Buck had gotten for her from the supply closet, and headed outdoors to the leaf-littered front lawn.

  In spite of its pumpkin companions, the scarecrow looked forlorn and out of place. Halloween had come and gone and he was still here. Addie poked at him with the rake, but hadn’t the heart to destroy him yet. She would rake the leaves first.

  The square was empty. It was that midafternoon lull when children were still in school, and Blue Springs residents were either deep in their work, or napping.

  An hour later, knee-deep in leaves, hands and nose cold from the November chill, she heard a car pull up and park in the small parking area behind her. The sound of the engine was familiar, and her heart leaped into her throat. She raked furiously, ignoring the thud of a car door closing, ignoring the rustle of footsteps approaching behind her, ignoring her watery knees and rapid breathing.

  The footsteps stopped. A shower of leaves fell over her head and onto her shoulders, littering the front of her red down jacket. Brushing them away, she turned to confront Will.

  “Hey, you’re not much help. I just put those into a neat pile.”

  “You sure did, and they hate it.” His eyes bright with mischief, he scooped another handful into her face.

  Laughing, Addie retaliated with a handful of her own and the fight was on. Flinging armfuls of leaves at each other, they battled furiously, but Will had the advantage as he advanced on Addie, backing her up into the huge pile she’d built. She stumbled and fell, laughing, deep into the center of the heap of crisp leaves. On her back, she tried to defend herself by scooping leaves in his face as he closed in on her. He grabbed her wrists and fell next to her, landing at her side, leaves flying everywhere. He propped himself on one elbow, and leaned over her, inspecting her face with a serious expression.

  “I do believe, Miss Rivers, that your nose is red, your face is dirty, and your hair is full of leaves. Definitely not the appearance of a proper librarian.”

  Addie held her breath as he brushed leaf fragments off her cheeks, then placed a swift kiss on her cold nose. He drew back to look at her again, his face only inches from hers, and his breath warmed her chin.

  “I’m sorry, Professor, if I don’t live up to your idea of a proper librarian, but you certainly contributed to my disreputable state.”

  “Yeah, I sure did, and I have an urge to make you more disreputable.”

  He lowered his head and caught her mouth in a hot kiss. Addie forgot about being cold and dirty and confused. She felt vital and alive, glowing and carefree. Swiftly lost in her new feelings, she kissed him back, drawing immense pleasure from the give and play of their lips and the longing burning in her breasts. He slipped a leg over her, and his long length warmed her body, acting as if that was its sole purpose.

  A car horn honked in the square, and abruptly Addie came to her senses. They were lying on the ground kissing in view of anyone who passed or anyone peering from a shop window.

  “Dear God, Will, this is crazy. Please get up. Someone will see us.”

  That lazy, heartbreaking smile came, and he kissed her on the chin. “No one can see us, Addie. I’m not a complete fool. We’re hidden in the middle of the leaves. Look, there’s a mound on both sides.”

  “But someone might come up the library walk to the front door.”

  She pushed on his chest, and slowly, reluctantly he drew away. They both sat up, and Addie threw an anxious glance toward the street. The passing car was now out of sight, the square was still quiet, and no one seemed to be around. Will stood up and gave her a hand, helping her to rise to her feet.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem” he said, and gave her an unfathomable look. Was it disappointment? In her?

  His eyes had lost their sparkle and now seemed to smolder. Smolder with what? Anger, impatience, hurt? His frivolity and playfulness had dissolved into a seriousness that disturbed her.

  “I have to finish cleaning up here,” she said. “You can go on into the library if you wish.”

  “No, I contributed to the mess, so I’ll help you clean up.”

  Soon, having obtained another rake from the supply closet, Will worked at her side, gathering and bagging the legions of dry leaves. He said nothing, worked silently and efficiently, and never looked her way. Addie went through moments of sheer joy at his silent companionship, and moments of raging guilt when she thought of Buck.

  The air grew colder and the skies darker as the afternoon waned, and near the end of their task he finally spoke.

  “Seems a shame to stuff all these leaves into bags. There’s one pile left. Let’s burn them. Leaves put on a spectacular show for us in the fell. They deserve a better end than being packed into black bags and thrown away, and surely Mr. Scarecrow has earned a roaring send-off.”

  The idea enchanted her. She hadn’t had a bonfire in years, and suddenly wondered why. Had she become so set in her ways that she’d forgotten the delights of her childhood? Will Court’s ability to call on the child in him was endearing, and she felt herself drawn deeper into the web he wove.

  “Blue Springs has an ordinance about burning trash, but there’s no wind today, so who gives a fig. Let’s do it,” she cried.

  Qualms about Will, worry about Joe, fear about the killer of her friends, and guilty feelings concerning Buck all dissolved. Addie threw caution to the winds as they hurriedly stowed the bagged leaves at the curb for pickup. They piled the remaining leaves around the scarecrow and lit a match to the artful mound.

  Will laughed and put his arm around her shoulder as the leaves caught and roared with flames high into the air. Addie rested snug into the crook of his shoulder, and laughed with him. The woodsy tang of smoke soon fogged the air and drifted into the square, along with the hiss, snap and crackle of burning leaves. She felt ten years old again.

  The fire began to draw a crowd; Burt Manning came from the hardware store, and Dixie with Jingles, the chef from the diner; the Simples children dropped their bikes on the lawn and danced around the bonfire; Mertie came from the flower shop; old Mr. Cartwright came to sit on the stone bench adorning the library lawn.

  Caught in the romance Will had created on the square, Addie beamed with joy, loving the delighted faces of the children, the obvious pleasure of the adults, and the whispering memories crossing the lined face of eighty-year-old James Cartwright.

  Gradually, she tuned into the questioning glances Dixie cast her way, and the sly, snoopy peeks Mertie was taking at Will’s arm around her shoulder. She straightened and stepped away from him.

  “Thank Dr. Court for the bonfire. It was his idea,” she called to all of them, smiling. She waved. “I’ve got work to do.”

  Will followed her into the library. She wished that he hadn’t. What must her friends think? Rebellion flared up in her, bright red and dangerous, and suddenly she didn’t care what her mother or the whole darn town thought. This was her life she was living, not theirs.

  “We shouldn’t leave the fire unattended,” she said, attempting a casualness she didn’t feel.

  “Jingles volunteered to keep an eye on it,” Will said. He gave her another unreadable look and went to his usual table at the rear of the library.

  With determination, she marched to Fiction, prepared to organize Hemingway through Millay, hoping in the process to harness and put in order her galloping fear and confusion. She climbed the ladder, reached for The Sun Also Rises, and heard the soft slide of his moccasins behind her. Light-headed, she squeezed the ladder rungs.

  “Look at me, Addie.”

  “Will, I know I’m not being fair to you,” she said from her perch, whispering into the books. “But all of my life I thought that I would probably marry Buck, and suddenly you appear in my life and everyt
hing goes crazy.”

  “Look at me,” he demanded again, “and come down off that damn ladder.”

  Feet and legs, behaving like feathery wisps of nothing, moved shakily down the ladder, and landed with miraculous safety on the floor next to a pair of masculine moccasins.

  She turned to face him. “I’ve made up my mind that I have to tell Buck how I’m feeling. Even if this thing between us goes nowhere, I must be honest with Buck. If a complete stranger can come into town and turn my head so, then I’m certainly not ready to marry him.”

  He held her chin, and rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “Do you think of me as a stranger, Addie? I hope not. I feel as if I’ve known you all of my life.”

  “I know, Will, I feel the same way. But it’s scary for me.”

  “Scary like I’m going to hurt you, or scary of changes and new things?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe both.”

  “I would never hurt you. You must know that you’ve become very important to me. I, too, am feeling things I’ve never felt before. It’s quite obvious that I’m drawn to you physically,” he said, and smiled softly, “but it’s more than that. I love your love of books and history. I get a kick out of your sense of humor. And there’s more, but I don’t have the right to say any of it. Give me a chance, Addie. Give us a chance.”

  Overwhelmed, she covered the hand that held her chin, and said, “Will, I’m going to have a talk with Buck tomorrow night before the hoedown. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  He frowned. “Your mother invited me to the hoedown, and I accepted. I’m not sure Buck will be happy I’m there. Will that be awkward for you?”

  “Maybe, a little. But I’m a big girl, and Buck is a gentleman.”

  They jumped at the clatter of a dustpan hitting the wooden floor, and turned to see Donny Jim watching from the end of the aisle. Waves of purple and red undulated over his face, then faded to a sheet-white, and he hurriedly bent to pick up the dustpan he had dropped.