Stranger in the Moonlight (Edilean 7)

“Five.”

“I guess he’s the reason you didn’t . . .” He was concentrating on his breathing because what she was doing hurt a lot.

“He’s my reason for living, if that’s what you mean. But yes”—she paused to pour water on a gauze to blot the blood away—“Jamie is why I didn’t go to medical school. Well, actually, that’s not fair. A good-looking football player, a few tequila shots, and the backseat of a Chevy are the real reasons.”

“So you married the player?”

“Yes,” she said softly, “but he got drunk and ran off a bridge before his son was born. Jamie and I have always been alone.”

“Not any longer.” He turned to look at her just as she was cleaning a cut, and he gasped at the pain.

“I won’t think less of you if you scream. Or cry.”

“And lose my hero status?” he said.

She stopped working, put her hands on his shoulders, and moved her face near his. “You will never lose your hero status with me. You saved my life,” she said softly as she kissed him on the cheek.

Russell bent his head and kissed the back of her hand.

She removed her hands. “Lifesaving doesn’t get you anything else. Who are you, why are you here, and what’s this about having relatives?”

As Russell began to talk, he knew that what he was saying was slightly incoherent, but it was difficult for him to think clearly. Between the pain and the presence of this young woman, he wasn’t quite himself. He started by telling her the purpose of his journey, how he’d come with his half brother, Travis, to help his fiancée, Kim, trace an ancestor in the hope of finding descendants.

“All of Edilean is related to one another,” he said, “so I don’t know why they need more.”

“You sound envious.”

“I . . .” he began. He was going to say that he had relatives, but those people his mother had booked in the B&B only called when they came up with some scheme that her rich boss could finance. Other than that, he and his mother were on their own.

“Go on,” Clarissa urged him. “How did I suddenly acquire a family?”

“Shenanigans between Dr. Tristan Janes and Miss Clarissa Aldredge of Edilean, Virginia, back in the 1890s. They produced a child she named Tristan, and the name has been given to succeeding eldest sons.”

“And they’re all doctors?”

“I think so. You’d have to ask Kim for the facts.”

“And she is going to marry your half brother?”

“Yes,” he said, then couldn’t resist telling her what he’d thought that meant when he was little.

Clarissa laughed and he liked the sound. “That sounds like my Jamie.” She was bandaging his back.

“What were you doing here when I rescued you?”

She gave a groan of frustration. “Trying to repair this place, but I’m no good at it.”

“I have to agree on that.” Her hands were on his skin, smoothing the bandages, and for a moment he closed his eyes.

“There, I think you’re done.” She walked around him. He still wore the front part of his shirt, which she hadn’t cut away, and she smiled at his comic appearance.

He started to pull the remainder of the shirt off, but at a sound from Clarissa he looked up. There were tears gathering in her eyes. It was a natural thing to pull her into his arms, his hands entangled in her hair, her head buried in his shoulder.

“I was so scared,” she whispered as the tears began to flow. “All I could think of was that my son would lose his mommy. He’d never recover from it. I’d ruin his whole life because of my stupidity. And it was stupid of me to be up there by myself every Sunday morning.”

“Yes it was,” Russell said as he held her close—and he suddenly remembered that his father had sent him to the Old Mill on a Sunday morning. “You have to swear not to do it again.”

“But this is all I have,” she said as she pulled away from him. “This old, rotten, falling down pile of rocks is everything in the world that I own. My job barely pays expenses and—”