The Spring at Moss Hill (22 page)

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Authors: Carla Neggers

BOOK: The Spring at Moss Hill
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Twenty-Three

R
uss awoke with the sunrise, which hadn't been his plan or, certainly, his desire after last night, but the vibrant streaks of color drew him outside, downstairs to the front of the building. He had a long day ahead of him. Bundled up in her barn coat, looking tiny and lost, Daphne had followed him among the chives at Carriage Hill. He'd been contemplating Kylie's abrupt exit, the effect of her and her adopted town on him, when Daphne had hunted him down.

She wanted to go home. Today.
It's been great, but I need to be back to work on Monday.

She'd claimed she'd been so preoccupied with this trip that she'd agreed to a must-do, in-person meeting on Monday without realizing it was
this
Monday, then forgot about it altogether. She'd realized her oversight when she'd received an email confirmation.

I never forget meetings. Never.

Russ figured she was making up an excuse, but he hadn't called her on it and wouldn't. He'd expected to have today, at least, to relax, maybe go for a bike ride or a long walk with Kylie, just for fun, no pressure. He didn't regret their overheated encounter on his balcony, but they'd moved fast for a woman who'd spent much of the past year alone, her primary company a four-inch stuffed badger.

Fast for him, too, but not too fast.

He walked across the parking lot, taking in the early morning colors and smells, the glow of the sunrise on the river and green fields. He'd go up to the covered bridge and back, get his bearings, breathe in the fresh air, enjoy the picturesque surroundings. Then he'd pack for his and Daphne's flight to LA.

As he started up the road, he noticed a movement in the woods at the base of Moss Hill.

Kylie, up at sunrise.

He trotted across the road and called to her. When he reached the woods, he saw there was a narrow trail. He ducked under a low-hanging pine branch and called for her again.

“Up here,” she said, close but out of sight.

He continued up a steep section of trail. It curved around a chest-high boulder, and there she was, waiting for him on an exposed tree root. “You're up early,” he said.

“Not as early as you are since it's three hours earlier in California.”

“Good morning, Kylie.”

She smiled. “Good morning, Russ. Do you want to see my spring?”

What was he supposed to say to that? Only one answer. “Sure.”

She led him up the trail, through the woods, along a stream—Russ figured he didn't need to keep track of the exact route. Kylie picked up her pace as they came to a wet spot on the hillside, presumably her spring.

She dropped to a small boulder and scooped sodden, dead leaves and debris out of a small pool. She dumped the debris to one side and pointed at a cluster of rocks. “See that water trickling from the rocks? That's the spring.”

“I see it,” Russ said, sitting next to her on a flat rock.

“It's safe to drink.”

“Is this where you meditate, or do you sit quietly and wait for badgers?”

“I haven't seen any badgers.” She scooped up more muck and tossed it aside. “A squirrel bonked me on the head with an acorn when I was up here the other day.”

Russ noted the clear pool as the spring fed it fresh water. “You could walk past this spot a hundred times and never realize a spring was here.”

“That's part of what makes it special.”

“Am I ruining it by being up here?”

“No.” She brushed her muddy hands off on her thighs. “Justin Sloan told me as I was leaving last night that he'll make sure Travis Bowman gets back to Syracuse.”

“Does Travis worry you?”

“Not really, no. I never saw anything in him—he just asked if I wanted to go with him to a Red Sox game and I took a chance and said yes.”

“The guy in Paris was more your type?”

“The sculptor. Lucien. He's full of himself, but he's also a very good sculptor. He was condescending to me about my illustrations. I don't think that was his intention, but we never got past sharing a bottle of wine in a Paris café.”

Russ watched the flow of the spring water. “Maybe Travis was your anti-Lucien.”

“I didn't have a relationship with either Travis or Lucien.” Kylie shifted on her rock, the toes of her trail shoes covered in mud. “You see what my life is like. I work and I go for walks and bike rides. I'm sorry Travis disrupted Daphne's class, first with his reckless talk that got the rumor mill going and, then, showing up yesterday.”

“Mark and the Sloans were on the lookout for him. He never would have had a chance to disrupt the class, but Daphne would have dined on it for months if he had. She told the guys she was sorry they missed her discussion of Victorian bloomers.”

“That's when Brandon made his escape. Did she really discuss bloomers?”

Russ shrugged. “I wasn't there. She said afterward she was making a point about considering undergarments, seen or unseen, in costume design.” He noticed the spark of humor in Kylie's eyes. “She wanted to hit a lot of different points. That's what she told me, at least.”

Kylie grabbed a stick and flicked her pile of muck away from the edge of the pool. “She's fun, savvy and professional. She loves playing the diva, doesn't she?”

“To the hilt.”

“I wonder if she practiced being a diva in her library attic room.”

“She's decided to leave today,” Russ said, watching Kylie for her reaction. “I'm going with her. I need to head to Carriage Hill soon to pick her up.”

Kylie tossed her stick aside. “Had you planned to leave today?” she asked without looking at him.

“Tomorrow. I have a meeting I need to be at on Tuesday and work I need to clear up.” And decisions to make about his future with Sawyer & Sawyer, and his future in general. He kept his voice steady. “I'm meeting with Dylan and Noah. Travis wasn't a threat, but the next guy might be. It was a wake-up call for them.”

“At least it wasn't a scary wakeup call.” She turned to Russ, her nose and cheeks slightly red from the cool early-morning temperature. “Noah and Dylan have more than their own safety to consider. They're starting new businesses. Dylan and Olivia have a baby on the way, Noah's getting married—they can't pretend Knights Bridge isn't part of the real world. Even I can't, and I do a pretty good job of it. Could your law firm take on Noah and Dylan as clients?”

“First things, first.” Russ smiled. “Right now I have to steel myself for the drive to the airport with Daphne.”

“Do you like living in Los Angeles? Would you be there if your brother wasn't there?”

“I doubt it but no complaints. San Diego's my city, though. Ever been to San Diego, Kylie?”

“Once. I didn't get to the zoo. I've always wanted to visit the San Diego Zoo.”

“I'd love to show you San Diego sometime and take you to the zoo.”

“I'd like that.”

He looked out at the trees, the sunrise blended into the sky now, high, white clouds moving in from the west. He turned back to Kylie, noticing how at ease she was out here in the woods, next to her spring. “San Diego is a long way to go for a date. Can you get work done on planes?”

“I don't even know anymore. I haven't flown anywhere in over a year. It's easy to slip into boxes of our own creation. Mine's been that I need to work all the time and be alone and not tell people what I do. If I do, somehow it will throw everything that's been working for me out of whack. What's your box?”

“You tell me.”

“Competent, confident, responsible. They are positive qualities, and I imagine they're assets in your line of work.”

“They can be. They can also turn me into a rigid jackass.”

She smiled. “Are you quoting someone by chance?”

“My brother. Marty has a variety of colorful alternatives for jackass.”

“My sister worries about me, too. But I don't think you're a rigid jackass. With what you see and know, what you've done, two round-trips across the country in a week and taking on a potential stalker must seem easier sometimes than it would be to let your guard down...” She went red, grabbed her stick again. “Never mind.”

“Easier to take on a stalker than to take you to the zoo? Allow other people to crawl out of their boxes?” Like Marty, Russ thought. But Kylie smiled, and he decided not to think about his brother right now, no doubt in his mind Marty would have approved. “You've found a home here in Knights Bridge.”

“Working on it. We'll see how people here react to Morwenna. I'm guessing they won't care. No one seemed to mind last night.” Looking calmer, she put her stick aside and ran her fingers in the spring water. “Maybe it's not so much about finding a place but making a place your own.”

“This spot does make you think about possibilities.”

“Yes, it does. Not many people come up here.” She gave him a sideways look. “I keep my phone handy in case I fall.”

“Good thinking.” Russ scooped up water in his hand and took a drink. It was cold, clean, no trace of muck that he could taste. “This is so different from the life I know, it's hard to describe.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Just different.” He shook the excess water off his hand and touched two fingers to her cool cheek. “Except for the company. That's definitely good different.”

“I appreciate that.”

He tapped her lips with his fingertips, then sat back. “Bet you were glad it was me coming up the trail.”

“I was prepared to hide if it was Travis being weird.”

“Good thinking.”

Kylie didn't respond. Russ felt her going quiet, thoughtful, in this place that soothed her soul. “Do you get ideas here?” he asked finally.

“Sometimes. Not on purpose. Mostly I try to stay in the moment and appreciate the surroundings.”

“I hope I'm not ruining it for you.”

“Not possible.”

“A lot's changed for you this week.” He kissed her on the top of her head, breathed in the smell of her hair. “For me, too. I have to get Daphne home and take care of business, but I won't forget you.”

“See how you feel when you get back to LA.”

“You're used to being alone.”

“I'm alone a lot because of the work I do, and because of the life I lead—the choices I've made. Complete solitude isn't a necessity.”

“You could have a puppy, then?”

“Puppies, cats, chickens.”

He noticed she'd left out a husband and children. “That would give you lots to draw. You didn't mention a man.”

“I've decided to illustrate
Beauty and the Beast
next.”

“A lot of inspiration around here for the beast. Kylie...” He paused before he went too far. “Come out and see me in LA. Meet my brother. Morwenna needs to see Hollywood.” He got up, dusted off his hands and his pant legs and looked at her sitting by her spring. “I'll see you, Kylie.”

She smiled up at him. “Are you sure you don't need me to get you back to Moss Hill? You didn't leave a bread-crumb trail.”

“I have my phone. I'll text you if I get lost.”

But she'd been through the woods between the spring and the trail so many times, she'd created something of a trail, and he had no trouble finding his way back down to the road.

* * *

Daphne had her bags packed and out on the doorstep, courtesy of Dylan, when Russ arrived at Carriage Hill. She'd already said her goodbyes and gave her thanks to her hosts, and he did the same.

“I'll be seeing you soon,” Dylan said quietly, walking with Russ to his rental car. Daphne had already tucked herself in the passenger seat.

“Anytime,” Russ said.

He got in behind the wheel and watched Dylan head back into the house, Buster greeting him at the kitchen door. “Not a bad life,” he said.

“I'd go insane,” Daphne said with an exaggerated shudder. “To each his or her own.”

Russ grinned at her. “What would get to you first?”

She didn't hesitate. “Buster. My door didn't latch last night, and he tried to get into bed with me. For a second I thought it was my third husband. He was hairy, too.”

“Daphne.”

“Let's go,” she said, buckling up. “I'm ready.”

Russ thought he heard a catch in her voice, but he said nothing.

They were out on Route 2, heading east toward Boston, before Daphne broke the silence. “Did you notice I'm wearing a neutral travel outfit and almost no jewelry?”

He hadn't, but he did now. “Looks comfortable. Long day ahead.”

“I want to blend in,” she said. “I don't want anyone at the airport or on our flight looking at me and thinking I might be someone they know. Let them think I'm a grandmother who flew east for her little guy's piano recital. Did you ever play piano, Russ?”

Russ grimaced, but she was flying first class again and he was flying coach—he wouldn't have to listen to her all day.

“You didn't,” she said. “Marty did?”

“I don't remember.”

“I can see Marty at the piano as a little kid.” She stared out her window. “I hope he makes it in Hollywood, but he's having fun doing the work, going for it—that's part of the dream, too. It's the best part, maybe.”

“You're not going to start crying, are you?”

She shot him a look, biting back a smile. “Bastard. I'm glad you're flying coach.” She sank back into her seat. “I want to get home to my patio and my pool. I swam in the streams in Knights Bridge a few times. It was always cold. The water warms up for three days in August, but it's still not what I'd call warm even then. I like my heated pool.”

She drifted into silence again. Russ concentrated on his driving and pushed back any images of Kylie jumping into a cold New England stream. Tried to, anyway.

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