Page 93 of Moonshine and Magnolias
Wendy wasn’t resisting, or clawing Rob’s face, or trying to kick him in very delicate places. He considered these positive things.
The audience had readily accepted the change in the script and eagerly parted for them. Brandi must’ve spread the word about the new venue. The walk was supposed to give them time to pace the perimeter and heighten the anticipation among the patrons of what would happen next.
He kept silent until the crowds thinned out and they were alone. “Did you get the flash drive?”
“Yes.”
Her voice was clear and strong. Determined. Rob wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “Did you read it?”
“No.”
He should have been more specific. Did that mean she hadn’t read the letter, or that she’d seen the flash drive and not put it on her computer? The drive contained everything he had learned in the past week. Everything he wrote about his family and hers, and the bond they had shared.
Best to come out with it. “My Uncle Louis was in love with your Aunt Caroline.”
Wendy gave a little snort. “And he left her, alone. Where she remained aspinster while waiting for him to return.” She pulled her arm free.
He let her go without protest and shoved his abandoned hand through his hair. “Your relatives and his job forced my uncle away, but he vowed to return.”
“For his greatest treasure.” Her tone held scorn. She had grown pale when she saw him on the stage, but now color seeped into her cheeks.
“I want to show you something.” He offered her his arm again and she gave him a narrow-eyed glare before she took it.
“I’m only taking this so I don’t fall,” she said. “I have no idea how you got Brandi and everyone else to go along with your little act, but you better believe there will be words later. Lots of words. Maybe even some shouting.”
The ever-present scent of peaches surrounded them as he steered her toward Fenwick’s tree standing guard behind the orchard. He stopped a foot away and slowly scanned the bark, lifting his gaze with each sweep.
There. He’d found it, just like Louis had described in his journal. High enough to be hidden under the low canopy of branches, where it stayed a secret for one hundred years. Carved initials carved blended into the bark. LU + CC. “It was for love, Wendy. He vowed to return for love.”
She didn’t look up. “And look at what that got her. Nothing except a broken promise and a broken heart.”
He was aware of every part of her. Every hair, every look, every move. Aware that she held his heart in her hands. Aware that she could crush it as well. “I’m sorry.”
“For your uncle?” She gave him a blank look. “You weren’t even alive.”
He shook his head. “For not trusting you. For letting myself believe I had to keep what I was doing a secret. It wasn’t right. Nothing was right until I met you. And I hope you’ll give me the chance to prove it to you.”
Her face reddened. “Rob, I…”
He waited in agony while she digested the words, hoping to God she didn’t shred his soul. God, she was beautiful. “Once I realized what Uncle Louis was really saying in his journals, it was easy.” His throat closed over his next words,but he forced them out. She deserved to know how he really felt. After what he did to her. Her family. And then let her decide. “You were always on my mind. In my mind. I had to leave you. And with that juxtaposition, Uncle Louis’s diary entries all fell into place.”
He stepped back and pointed to the carving in the tree. “They did that together, your aunt and my uncle. A symbol of their love.”
Wendy craned her neck up and let out a small gasp. “It was her. Caroline Clayton.” She turned to Rob, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She was his greatest treasure.”
“His Angels Eyes. It wasn’t a euphemism or code. And he had to leave without her. The love of his life. He had planned to return, but he died before he could.” He held Wendy’s hands in his own, emotion battling in his chest. He swallowed around the tightness in his throat and spoke again, leaving it all there for her. “I’m not about to leave without mine.”
He took her hands in both of his, expecting resistance, but she didn’t offer any. “I can’t change the past, but I’d like to be able to explore the future. With you, Wendy. If you let me.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and gently kissed her gloved wrist.
She watched their hands before she looked up at him, tears tracing a slow line down her cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumb, wishing he could crush her against him and hold her. Just hold her.
Instead, he waited with his heart echoing around him.
“You can’t stay here.” Her words were whisper soft.
Their effect was like a discharged cannonball barreling into his guts. She didn’t believe him, and he had nothing left to give. If he spoke, the devastating grief in his chest would mangle anything he said, so he merely nodded and released her hand.
She tightened her fingers before he could completely let go. “You can’t stay here,” she repeated, drawing out the torture. “Because Fountenoy Hall is full until Monday.”
