Page 25 of Moonlit Hideaway
“I will.” Emma practically squealed. “Oh, Jane, you’re my dream come true. I wish I could tell Rosalie and everyone at school, but it’s better to have you in secret than to lose you in the open.”
“Well said,” Hank agreed with his daughter. Whatever time he could have with Jane while she was hiding was to be grabbed and cherished.
Sierra was bone-tired after the day she had, but she insisted on helping Mabel clear the dishes and load the dishwasher. Truthfully, she wouldn’t have known what to do if Hank hadn’t found her sitting out on the beach. The October weather was surprisingly chilly in the evening, and it was just like her not to think things through.
Escaping her father’s wake, buying the broken-down truck, and then driving without a plan was how she ended up on Hank’s doorstep. Then, last night, the urge to run again landed her in this latest predicament. Robbed of her cash and dependent on the charity of the Whitmans.
“You should get some rest,” Mabel said kindly as she rinsed the sink.
“I should help. You’ve been so kind to me.” She grabbed a broom. “I can take turns with the cooking and cleaning. Add it to Emma’s music lessons.”
“Hank tells me you’re here on credit, and we’re still holding your diamond bracelet.” Mabel chided in a teasing tone. “Now, go, go, shoo. I’m just glad you’re back.”
“I screwed up, didn’t I? I should have listened to Hank and not tried to run. Then maybe my stuff wouldn’t have been stolen.”
“You couldn’t have known. Now, stop fretting. You’ll be back on your feet in no time. I’m sure a bit of rest will have you jumping back on stage soon. You’re young, and whatever’s troubling you will pass.” Mabel’s voice was comforting but with an inquisitive edge. “If you want to talk about it…”
Sierra bent over for the dustpan and collected the crumbs. “I’ll just need a few weeks or a month. I do appreciate you keeping my secret. I’m sorry if I caused trouble for you and Hank, what with the police showing up and all that.”
“It’s not your fault.” Mabel took the dustpan from her and emptied it. “I’m still worried, though, about Hank.”
“Oh? Is something wrong?” Sierra’s ears perked at the concern in Mabel’s voice.
“He’s got so much on his shoulders—running the inn, raising Emma, and, well, you probably know already that he lost his wife four years ago.”
“Yes, Emma told me.” Sierra could sense the warning coming from Hank’s mother. She wanted her to treat her son’s heart with care. “I appreciate everything you and Hank are doing for me. Don’t worry. I won’t…”
She paused, her words trailing off. She wanted to convey her boundaries without overstepping and assuming, and yet, at the same time, she didn’t know her own feelings. Hank was an attractive man, and he made it so easy for her to depend on him. She couldn’t take advantage of his good nature.
“I know that Hank has been through a lot. He’s a good man, Mabel. Strong and kind. Emma’s lucky to have him.”
“He is. But he’s also… well, he’s been alone for a long time. He’s not the type to show it, but the loss of Chloe… left a big hole.”
Sierra’s heart clenched at the unspoken implication. She understood the delicate balance of being close to someone who had lost the love of their life, and she would never measure up to that memory. “I can see that. He’s been nothing but kind to me since I arrived. I… I won’t presume on his time.”
Mabel reached out, placing a warm, weathered hand over hers. “You’re a good girl. I can see that. Just… be good to each other, okay? Life’s too short for anything else.”
“I know…” Sierra looked into Mabel’s eyes. She showed not just a mother’s concern but a genuine affection for her. “I recently lost my father. We weren’t close, but it’s hard to believe I’ll never see him again.”
“That’s the toughest part, isn’t it? To live off your memories and have it be enough.”
Tears sprang to Sierra’s eyes, and when she looked up, Hank was standing at the kitchen entrance, staring at her. The longing in his eyes was so intense that it made her heart ache. Mabel had been warning her that Hank was vulnerable.
“Hey, ready to go up to your room?” He dangled the key she’d given back. “Everything is as you left it.”
“Thanks.” She took the key and, turning to Mabel, said, “Goodnight, and thanks for the chat.”
It felt strange to be right back where she’d started—now worse off than she was twenty-four hours ago.
As they walked, Hank said, “I scrounged up some women’s clothing, but tomorrow, I’ll take you into town for some shopping. Not the thrift store this time.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to, but I want to.” He grinned. “Consider it a welcome gift. This time, you’re going to pick your own personal style.”
“I thought I did already at the thrift store—vacation mistakes off the ‘what was I thinking?’ rack.”
Hank laughed and stopped at the lobby to check through the reservation book. “I think you’ll look fabulous. Maybe go for librarian chic or a dreamy artist with the paint-colored overalls.”
