Sarah Allen - The Girl Who Chased the Moon

Did he honestly think that stringing her along would work?

She thought he’d give her forever once, and look how well that turned out.

She walked down the street toward the bandstand, huffing with indignation. This was good. The animosity was back. She didn’t owe him anything. She could just walk away now. Nothing more needed to be said.

Oh, God. If only she meant that.

If only he hadn’t kissed her.

If only he hadn’t told her…

Julia had barely made it out of the amusement ride area when she heard, “Julia! Jooooooooolia!”

She turned and saw Beverly walk up to her with tiny clips of her high-heeled sandals. Her husband, Bud Dale, was walking beside her, looking like a pack mule as he carried all her bags.

“Beverly,” Julia said in flat acknowledgment. Then she turned to Beverly’s husband. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Bud. How are you?”

“I’m doing real well, Julia. You’re real nice for askin’.” There was something about the way he said that. It gave Julia pause. It was something her father would say, in that same good-ol’-boy kind of way. Beverly had left Julia’s father, but then married a man just like him.

“I have a big surprise for you,” Beverly said.

“What is it?”

“I don’t have it with me now,” she said, which Julia found hard to believe, considering how many shopping bags Bud was holding for her. “But I’ll come by to see you tomorrow around lunchtime, okay? I’m so excited about it.”

“Sure.” Julia started to turn. “See you later.”

“Why do you have to act this way, Julia?” Beverly asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Why are you always so unhappy? It’s not an attractive quality. Why don’t you spruce yourself up a little? Take that awful streak out of your hair. Smile at men, show a little skin.” Beverly adjusted herself, pulling at the low V of her shirt. “Oh, I know you don’t like to show your scars, but once you’re in bed with a man, it’s not your arms he’ll be looking at, if you catch my meaning.”

“Thanks for your input. Goodbye, Bud.”

“Good seein’ you, Julia,” he said as she walked away.

“I always tried to be a mother to her,” she heard Beverly say. “You know, share my expertise. But I think there’s something wrong with her that can’t be fixed.”

Julia fought with herself, trying not to turn around and confront Beverly. Beverly had been no kind of mother to her. Julia kept walking, telling herself she wouldn’t have to put up with this, or with Sawyer, for very long.

Between the two of them, was it any wonder she was unhappy? She’d be fine as soon as she was back in Baltimore. Though she couldn’t remember ever being incredibly happy there, she knew opening her bakery was going to change things.

And at least she wouldn’t be here.

EMILY WALKED around slowly, surrounded by the hot mist from food vendors and the tinny horn music from the kiddie rides. She was trying not to look like she was looking for him. There was a chance Win didn’t mean he wanted to spend any actual time with her at the festival when he’d asked if he would see her here. But there’d been no opportunity to find out for sure until now.

She’d seen him several times that day, just passing glimpses before Julia pulled her away, or his father distracted him. Emily was so relieved that Sawyer had come up to them when he did. It had given her the perfect excuse to go out on her own, although Julia didn’t seem as happy with the idea of being alone with Sawyer as Emily thought she would be.

Barely five minutes later, as she was heading to the information booth where she’d last seen Win as he was giving out directions to visitors, she felt a familiar warm hand on her arm.

She turned around and smiled.

Win had taken off his jacket and tie and his sleeves were rolled up. He’d lost the boater hat, too. He managed to look Caribbean cool, his white button-down billowing every time the wind picked up. His eyes were intense and green as he looked down on her.

“Hi” was her brilliant opening line. She couldn’t help it. Being this close to him flustered her.

“Hello,” he said.

“Have you noticed there’s a conspiracy to keep us at least twenty feet away from each other at all times? Who would have thought being friends would be this hard?”

He waved his hand forward, indicating they should walk. “I think that’s the difference between us,” he said, looking over his shoulder, distracted. “I knew how hard it would be going in.”

“So you get the badge of courage?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad to finally spend some time with you.”

Slightly mollified, she said, “I wish I could figure you out, “Win.”

That made a side of his mouth lift into a smile. “If you only knew how refreshing it is to hear that.”

“Oh, come on. You mean everyone has figured you out but me?”

He shrugged, making the fabric of his shirt wrinkle at his shoulders. “Everyone in Mullaby, at least.”

“Gee, as if I didn’t feel like such an oddball already.”

“See, that’s exactly what I mean. You live in such a strange town, and yet you feel odd.”

As they walked, their arms touched as they were jostled by the crowd. She liked the unintentional nature of it. Everything else about Win was so deliberate. “Well, I’m glad I could shake things up for you,” she said, which made him laugh.

They’d only been walking for a few minutes before he stopped and led her to a short queue. “Let’s go on this ride,” he said suddenly.

“Why this one?” she asked, following him. Being with him felt like a game sometimes, only she didn’t know the rules. Or who was winning.

“Because it’s closest,” he said. “And my dad is nearby.”

Emily looked back, trying to find Morgan Coffey, but she couldn’t see him. Win paid for their tickets and they crossed the deck to the Ferris wheel. They took the next available seat and the attendant placed the safety bar across them.

Win put his arm over the back of the seat behind her and focused on the sky as the wheel slowly lifted them up. Emily, however, looked down at the crowd as it got smaller and smaller. She finally found his father. He was standing as still as stone, watching them with an expression made of ghosts and anger.

“He’ll leave soon,” Win said, still looking up at the dusky sky. “He won’t want anyone knowing that it bothers him that we’re together.

“You and your dad don’t get along, do you?”

“We’re alike in many ways. But we don’t see eye to eye. For example, he’s very attached to doing things the way they’ve always been done. I don’t agree.”

The Ferris wheel came to a stop two seats down from the top. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot this past week,” she said, and it came out a lot more moony that she intended.

He lowered his gaze from the sky and met her eyes. His smile was mischievous. “Oh?”

“Not like that,” she said, laughing. She stopped laughing when their seat swayed back and forth in the wind. She grabbed the safety bar in front of them. Of course he didn’t seem afraid to be up this high. “I just can’t get my mind around something.”

“What is it?”

“You wouldn’t happen to be a werewolf, would you?”

“Excuse me?” he said.

She slowly loosened her hold on the bar and sat back.

“There are only two reasons I can think of for why you don’t come out at night: night blindness or werewolf.”

“And you decided to go with werewolf?”

“It was a toss-up.”

Win didn’t answer for a few moments. He finally said, “It’s tradition. It’s gone on for centuries.”