Once in a Blue Moon (48 page)

Melissa smiled. “You
will in a minute. Okay, is everyone ready?”

She dug out the mason
jar of marbles for Jeremy and handed them over. “Sully said these
are for you.”

Jeremy turned the jar
and studied the marbles. “Awesome!”

Next Melissa unwrapped
the silver antique mirror and handed it to Jessica. “Sully said
that Louisa would want you to have this.”

Jessica’s mouth parted.
“Oh. I love it.” She studied the mirror for a moment, then held it
close to her chest.

Next
Melissa pulled out a book. It was
Pride
and Prejudice
. She had no doubt that it
was for her. She held it up for the others to see. “That sweet,
sweet man.”

Next she pulled out the
cougar skin, the pocket watch, the fishing lures, and all the junk
she’d collected. Every piece was studied with awe. Finally she
unwrapped the pistol.

Richard’s mouth dropped
open and his eyes widened. He reached out and gingerly took the
gun. “I can’t believe this. It’s incredible!”

“Sully said he used it
during the Civil War.”

Richard gaped and
momentarily lost the power of speech.

Melissa turned to Carol
who stood very still, confusion on her face. “Now it’s your
turn.”

Melissa picked up the
packet of papers she’d set aside and flipped carefully through
them. “This is Andrew Sullivan’s family history and some diary
pages written by Louisa Sullivan and some of her quilting
patterns.”

Carol reverently took
the pages and looked through them, astonished.

Melissa grinned. “And
last but not least.” Melissa took the fabric bag and untied the
ribbon, hoping she knew what it contained.

Inside there was a
letter, simply addressed to Melissa. She let out a breath.
Underneath, was the photo of the young Janie Taggert that had
resided in the widow’s parlor. Melissa stared at the pretty
features that so resembled Jessica’s, then carefully opened the old
letter. It was dated 1892, five years after they’d left.

Dear Melissa,

You kept your end of
the bargain, and I shall keep mine. My son did come home. Of
course, he’s not able to openly acknowledge me, but we have a fine
relationship regardless. It is more than enough.

I’ve listed everything
I can remember about my family history in these pages, as well as
what I know of Colonel Carleton. I hope they are of some use to you
and to your mother-in-law. I’ve also included a few diaries as well
as my likeness. I thought my future grandchildren might like to
have it. Forgive an old woman’s vanity.

Remember, you have
everything important within your grasp. The family you make, and
those you gather around you, they are what is important in life.
They are everything. I’m glad I had the chance to know you.

Jane

T
ears filled
Melissa’s eyes and she passed the letter to Richard, the papers and
diaries to Carol, and looked at her family. The widow’s words
summed everything up beautifully.

Family
was
everything.

A concept Melissa
hadn’t learned as a child. She looked down at the ring Richard had
lovingly replaced on her finger the day they’d returned. The ring
that had been originally crafted especially for her.

She looked at the
treasure. The rumored family treasure that Melissa herself had put
together with Sully.

She’d
never had much family to speak of, but Melissa realized that she
was just as much a part of
this
family as the rest of them.

These
people
were
her
family. Her life.

The old pain from the
past was gone, replaced by a new happiness and confidence. She
placed a hand lightly on her stomach, savoring the suspicion that
they might soon have another child to love.

Carol looked up from
the papers in her hand. “I just don’t understand,” she sounded so
confused, “what is going on here?”

Melissa glanced around
at her smiling family.

Finally, Jeremy shook
his head. “Grandma, do we have a story for you.”

Thank you!

I hope you enjoyed
reading Once in a Blue Moon. If you have a moment, I'd appreciate
it if you'd share this story with other readers and take a minute
to leave a review. Thanks.

If you'd like to read
more of my books, She's Just Right and Serendipity are now
available. For information about future books, please visit
www.dianedarcy.com
to
sign up for my mailing list.

Acknowledgements

Sincere thanks go out to Kristin, Heather, and Lei Lani for their
generous assistance with this book. Thanks for the excellent
feedback, ladies!

Books
by Diane Darcy

Serendipity

She's Just Right

Once in a Blue
Moon

A Penny for Your
Thoughts

The Christmas Star

Steal His Heart

She Owns the
Knight

For previews of upcoming books by Diane Darcy, to
sign up for the mailing list, or for more information about the
author, visit
www.DianeDarcy.com

Excerpt from
Serendipity

What if you made a New
Year’s resolution, then were forced to keep it?

Professor Sam Pierson
should be more careful about what he wishes for. He’s already as
unhappy as he is obnoxious. What he doesn’t realize is that his
life is about to reach a new low. His boss is ready to fire him and
his wife to leave him.

When a disturbing
stranger asks for his New Year’s resolutions at a party, Sam throws
everyone into hysterical laughter when he blurts out, “I want the
body of an athlete and I want everyone to respect me.” At midnight
the stranger slaps him on the back, Sam has a sharp pain in his
chest, and for the entire year, he cannot do anything that violates
his New Year’s resolutions.

Hilarity follows as
family, friends, enemies and co-workers try and figure out what the
world happened to Sam. And while Sam eventually figures out what
his problem is, it takes him a while longer to realize exactly what
he needs to do about it.

Professor Sam Pierson stared at himself in the full-length
mirror, realized his mouth hung open and snapped it shut. He
cursed.
Loudly
.
The tuxedo didn’t fit. Not only didn’t it fit, it clung to his body
like a wet T-shirt on a co-ed, revealing every pound, bulge and
lump he’d acquired in the three years since he’d last worn the
suit.
Great
.

Grinding his teeth, he
turned to pound on the master bathroom door. “Emily!” She didn’t
respond and he tried the knob. Locked, of course. He pounded again.
“Emily, my tux doesn’t fit. I can’t go to the party looking like
this.”

The
hair dryer blasted full force behind the closed door and with a
scowl, he jerked away, his head pounding. This was
her
fault. If she’d
thought to rent him a tuxedo he wouldn’t be in this mess. He
glanced at the glowing red numbers on the bedside clock.
Seven-thirty. It was too late to rent one himself.

Walking to the closet
he frowned and flipped through his clothes. He could wear a regular
suit, but the New Year’s Eve party was formal and he didn’t want to
stand out.

Taking a deep breath he
felt the waistband of his slacks strain and he grimaced. If he
couldn’t breathe, how was he supposed to socialize? Eat?

He
glanced into the full length mirror again and swore. If this wasn’t
his only chance to talk to his boss in a social setting he’d just
stay home. But he
had
to be there tonight. He shot a glare at the closed
door.
They
had to
be there.

Straightening, he sucked in his gut and peered down at his
stomach. Perhaps if he eliminated some clothing? He quickly kicked
off his shoes, peeled off his slacks and removed his boxers. A
moment later he tugged the slacks back on, and
very carefully
zipped them. He
pulled in his gut again. Better? Maybe. If he didn’t eat or sit, he
could probably make it through the evening. He slipped his shoes on
without bending over.

Anyway, who would
notice the tightness of his clothes in a crowded room? It would be
fine. He released his breath in a rush and the waistband cut into
his gut once more. It would have to be.

He
jerked his arm and looked at his watch. They needed to
leave.
Now
. He
pounded on the bathroom door again.
“Emily, we’re late!”

The door opened and he
stepped aside, glaring as Emily moved into the bedroom. Ignoring
him, she walked to the closet and withdrew a pair of spike-heeled
black shoes.

The scent of her peach
body lotion wafted through the air and he inhaled, his gaze still
trailing her. She’d pulled her blonde hair up into one of those
fancy styles, somehow pinning it into place on top of her head,
leaving curls to dance invitingly around her cheeks and throat. He
continued to stare as she bent over, his gaze drawn to the back of
one knee revealed by the slit in the dress. He swallowed.

Finally, shoes on, she
straightened, and as her blue eyes wandered over his outfit he
tensed. “Well?”

Her lips smiled the
fake smile. “You look nice.” Her voice was bright, superficial. The
voice she used with strangers when she was uncomfortable. She
glanced down at her dress. “What do you think?”

She looked wonderful,
as usual. The calf-length black dress showed off her slender,
curvaceous figure, the stark color making her blonde hair bright,
and her eyes a brilliant blue.

Ignoring her question,
he buttoned his jacket. “You don’t think it looks too tight on
me?”

She sighed, turned and
started to rifle through her jewelry box. “Do you have anything
else to wear?”

He glared at her back.
“No.”

She crossed to the
dressing table mirror without looking at him, arched her neck to
one side and slid a hoop-earring into place. “Then it’s fine, isn’t
it?”

“It’ll have to be,
won’t
it
.” If he had a normal wife who took an
interest in anyone other than herself, maybe he’d have something
decent to wear tonight.

Lucky for her he wasn’t
like his father. No yelling or...well, he was a wonderful husband
and it was about time she realized it and tried being a decent wife
in return.

Sam assessed her dress
again, trying to ignore his reaction to the body inside as she bent
over the dresser to check her make-up, ignoring him. His jaw
clenched. “When you bend over like that it makes your butt look
fat.”

Her back stiffened and
she slowly straightened and turned, her face reddening. She was
angry. Incredible. Emily showing emotion.

Muscles tight, he studied her, anticipation thrumming through
his body. Her fists were clenched, ready to take him apart. About
time. Lifting his chin, Sam savored the eagerness coursing through
him. They needed a good fight. He was angry too. She was so
indifferent to him. Perhaps now he’d get some sort of reaction
instead of the incessant
no-one-home
stare. They could
relieve the tension, get their marriage back on track, and start
being intimate again.

She inhaled, opened her
mouth, then paused.

He
tensed. Come on. Say it. Something.
Anything!

She blinked, her
expression smoothed, and she relaxed. The bland mask slipped back
into place as her eyebrows rose. “Then I’d better not bend
over.”

Fingers digging into
one thigh, his temples pounding, Sam held her gaze. When she turned
away, he let out a harsh breath.

Couldn’t he do
anything
to get a reaction out of her? Say anything? What
did she want from him?

Abruptly he snatched
his wallet off the dresser and tried to wrestle it into his back
pocket. When it wouldn’t fit he shoved it inside his jacket.

If that was how she
wanted it he’d go along with her.

For now. They didn’t
have time to fight anyway. But eventually they needed to have it
out. He glanced at the bed they used for sleeping. He couldn’t go
on like this for much longer. Something had to change.

He noticed the time on
the bedside clock. Seven-forty. They’d never make it on time. “Come
on. We need to leave. I told you I wanted to be there by eight
o’clock.”

She picked up a long
rectangular bottle from off the dresser. “Why the big hurry? I
thought the party didn’t even start until eight.”

He
watched as she sprayed perfume on her neck and wrists, and breathed
in deeply, smelling the light, enticing fragrance. She’d worn this
scent ever since he’d known her, and for some reason, right now, it
reminded him of better times. Of when she’d loved him. When she
used to
tell
him
she loved him.

He pushed the thought
away. Everyone went through bad patches in their marriage. At
present, he needed to focus his energy on getting tenure at the
University. Emily needed to feel secure. Then life would be better.
He hesitated, slipped his fingers into his front pockets, then
pulled them out again when he realized it made the tuxedo look
worse.

Maybe she wouldn’t be
so cold toward him if she understood what was at stake tonight. He
cleared his throat. “I want a chance to talk to Jeff Johansen
alone.”