Under the Moon Gate Read online

  “He’s been with us forever.”

  “That’s not hard to believe. My guess is your grandmother did all the work and he puttered around after her.”

  Patience blushed. “Well, she couldn’t put him out of a job. He needs the money.”

  “And do you also collect all the stray cats and dogs around the island?”

  Patience twisted the hem of her T-shirt and looked away.

  “Don’t answer that.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “What’s the story with Sallie? She’s always skulking around the kitchen, making preparations, answering the door, and bringing in packages from well-wishers.”

  “Sallie doesn’t skulk. She belongs here. She’s trying to be unobtrusive, respectful of my feelings.”

  Her grandmother had hired Sallie many years ago and requested that Patience retain the housekeeper after her death, because she needed the work. But Patience knew the real reason. Diana hadn’t wanted to leave her daughter alone after she was gone.

  When her grandmother was sick, Sallie had cooked, cleaned, and handled the household. Patience and Sallie had always been close, but they had truly bonded during her grandmother’s illness. She couldn’t have made it through the last weeks without her. In fact, it had been Sallie who had gently pried Patience from her grandmother’s lifeless body with soothing tones and tender words. “She’s gone, luv. I’ve got you now.”

  “Well, that all stops today. There is to be no one in this house but you and me from now on, understood? Maybe Cecilia, or she’d get suspicious.”

  “Nathaniel, you’re being unreasonable,” Patience objected. In a corner of her mind she wondered why he was insisting that they be alone. What were his real motives?

  “I’m being cautious. And I want the names and phone numbers of everyone who works at Marigold House, now.”

  She eyed him carefully. He was certainly in a strange mood. She didn’t think she had any fight left in her to oppose him. She’d give in now, but as soon as he left, she would hire them both right back. She opened the nightstand and held out a small black address book.

  Nathaniel walked out and was back within ten minutes.

  “It’s done.”

  “What did you do? Did you give them the ax? Make them walk the plank?”

  “No, I’m not heartless. I gave them a well-deserved three-week vacation. Paid.”

  She smiled. “I’ll write out the check in the morning.”

  “It’s already been taken care of.”

  “How?”

  “I have my own money, and I used it.”

  “It’s pathetic, really,” Patience said. “I’m a grown woman. Almost twenty-seven, and my grandmother had to hire someone to take care of me.”

  “This place is huge. You need help, there’s no doubt about it, although I’m sure you could handle it.”

  Patience turned her head away, then whispered, “There might be a slight problem.”

  “What’s that?” He cocked his head in her direction.

  “Well, since you let Sallie go, I can’t, that is, I don’t know how, I mean I never learned to… Oh, bloody hell. We’ll starve, Nathaniel.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t cook!”

  He threw his head back and laughed until it hurt.

  “Well, I can. And I’ll teach you. Everyone should know how to cook.”

  “Can you clean, too?”

  “I can swab a deck, so I guess I can sweep a floor.”

  “We have a vacuum cleaner.”

  “I’m not going to let an electric broom get the better of me. We’ll manage until this mess is sorted out. We can always eat out.”

  “I’m not going out yet. I’m still in mourning.”

  Before he could comment, Nathaniel smelled smoke.

  “Did you or Cecilia leave a burner on in the kitchen?” he inquired.

  “No,” Patience said. Nathaniel sniffed the air again and ran to the open window at the side of the house.

  “There’s a fire on the Fair Winds,” he yelled, and dashed out the side door with Patience close on his heels.

  “I’ll call the fire department.”

  “No!” Nathaniel argued. “We don’t need the authorities poking around here. We’ll handle this ourselves.”

  “But you could lose your boat,” she pleaded.

  “There’s more at stake here,” he yelled back at her, taking the steps two at a time. “Bring some buckets.”

  Patience rushed back to the laundry room, grabbed a plastic mop bucket, and dashed into the kitchen to retrieve the deepest pot she could find. She followed Nathaniel down the steps and out to where the Fair Winds was moored. Nathaniel was already working furiously trying to extinguish the flames.

  “Nathaniel,” she called, and when he turned, she tossed him the bucket. He jumped off the boat, reached over, and dipped the bucket into the sea, fairly flying back to the source of the flames. Patience ran to the water, filled up the heavy stainless steel pot, and stood beside him, hefting its contents onto the fire. They worked in tandem for close to an hour without speaking. Fortunately, the fire had just started and hadn’t done much damage. After interminable trips to dip their pails into the bay, the fire was finally under control.

  Nathaniel was fuming. It was obvious this boat meant the world to him.

  “The bastard,” Nathaniel said, chest heaving. “He’s been on the boat again. And this time he’s left a dangerous calling card. That’s it, Patience. He’s gone too far. I’m going to have to kill him.”

  “You admitted, yourself, you don’t even know for sure who he is,” Patience reasoned. “All you have to go on is some codename in a journal. Calm down, Nathaniel, before you explode.”

  “He’s probably watching us right now,” Nathaniel seethed. “Get back to the house!”

  “Stop ordering me around like I was a witless child,” Patience said.

  “Then stop acting like one!”

  “You’re insane,” she spit, eyes flashing. “Why are you mad at me?”

  “Because you’re here! Now go, before I carry you into the house myself.”

  “Just try it,” she challenged.

  Patience didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry at how ludicrous the situation was. All she was doing was trying to help. But she knew his anger disguised raw fear. He was on the edge.

  Well, so was she. The unknown man hadn’t threatened to kill Nathaniel, had he? How did he even know Nathaniel? She was his primary target, after all. If the man set Nathaniel’s boat on fire, then it stood to reason Nathaniel couldn’t be the stalker.

  But he was still digging into her past. Was she wrong to be frightened of him? She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that he was out to hurt her, her family. But she was more frightened than ever of the stalker and thought maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep Nathaniel around, even if he was irritating.

  Deciding not to press her luck by further inflaming his temper, Patience stomped back up the steps to the side entrance, sulking as she slipped into the house.

  ****

  He found her on the couch, the journal open on her lap.

  “Damn,” Nathaniel said, when he noticed her red, swollen eyes. “You’ve been crying.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Yes, you have. You’ve been reading his journal.”

  She didn’t answer, but she bit her bottom lip and twisted her hands together, wrinkling the newly pressed skirt she had changed into after their bout with the fire.

  Nathaniel covered her hands with his and took her into his arms. After the commotion of the fire, she was too tired to resist him, and it felt good to be held. She rested her head on his shoulder, just for a minute, until she could regain her strength.

  “You didn’t like what you read,” Nathaniel said.

  “I don’t believe what I read.”

  “Or you don’t want to believe it. Is it your grandfather’s handwriting?”

  Patience nodded.


  “Are you finished?”

  “No, I just started. I’m just so tired.”

  “Of course. Let me take you to bed.”

  She looked up at him in confusion, and her eyes filled. Did he mean what she thought he meant? No. But his lips were so close. So close she could feel his hot breath against her face. And she felt so warm in his arms. So safe. So protected. She didn’t have the strength to struggle. She had no fight left. She simply couldn’t move. She felt as if she were enveloped in a fog. And he was calling out to her.

  ****

  “Patience,” he murmured softly. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. It wasn’t right to take advantage when she was so vulnerable. He couldn’t disguise the fact that he wanted her, which made no sense, because he had just met her.

  But he felt like he belonged here, with her. He was drawn to her with a yearning that was physical. And even though he hardly knew her, he wanted to protect her. He tried to lead her down the hall, but she wouldn’t or couldn’t move.

  She was practically asleep on her feet. He lifted her up and carried her into her bedroom, where he looked around. It belonged to a fairytale princess, floral chintz fabric on the windows for an English Country look and a soothing color scheme of lavenders, the palest blues, and yellows. Fresh, fragrant island flowers were everywhere. He had a flashback of a woman who might have been his mother, although he barely remembered her. Her room had smelled like this, like spring.

  Nathaniel pulled back the crisp blue-striped duvet cover and placed Patience on the cool white satin sheets beneath it. Her clothes were constricting her. To make her more comfortable, he took off her bunny slippers and placed them on the floor. Then he removed her skirt, slipped her T-shirt over her head, and folded both neatly on the settee at the foot of the bed. He thought about removing her bra but resisted the temptation. Tucking her snugly under the cover, he placed a kiss on her forehead, and she stirred. He thought he detected a touch of fever.

  “Patience. You’ll sleep now.”

  “You can’t stay here,” she pleaded, nodding off.

  “Sssh,” he said. “We’ll talk about that when you wake up. I’ll be close by.”

  Her lids fluttered shut and she grasped for his hand.

  “Don’t leave me alone.”

  “I won’t,” he answered.

  Nathaniel sat down on the side of the bed and held her hand until she fell asleep. She was a wreck. She had probably not slept and had hardly eaten for the entire week.

  Then she’d worked so hard helping him douse the flames on the Fair Winds. She needed complete bed rest. They would talk about other things when she woke. Soon he heard her rapid breathing as she slipped into slumber.

  Once, in the middle of the night, she cried out. Nathaniel shot out of his bed in the guest room down the hall and rushed into her room.

  She was sobbing, so he slipped under the covers with her, gathered her in his arms, and soothed her, smoothing her hair and rubbing her back, fighting the growing urge to kiss her.

  “I’m here, Patience. I’m here.”

  Soon she was resting calmly. He stayed in the bed briefly—to be near her in case she needed him, he told himself.

  He apologized to her, although he knew she couldn’t hear him, as he repeated a line from her grandfather’s diary: “I fear I have unleashed the evil, and we cannot turn back from this path.”

  Chapter 6

  Nathaniel woke early and went into the kitchen to fix breakfast. He was greeted by stainless steel appliances and hanging pots and pans, much like a ship’s galley. The polished Blue Pearl granite countertops and modern European sail-white cabinets trimmed in satin nickel hardware reinforced the nautical theme, enhanced by dazzling views of a restless ocean beyond the large windows.

  The kitchen was well equipped and the refrigerator and pantry well stocked, as he expected. Probably Sallie or Cecilia had brought over the food earlier in the week. He doubted Patience had had a decent meal since the funeral. When breakfast was prepared, he left it to keep warm while he went to her room. She was still peacefully asleep, and he enjoyed watching her for a moment. In her hand was a well-worn paperback book with a pirate and a half-clad woman on the cover. He smiled. Not so prim and proper after all, are you, Patience?

  She must have been restless and gotten up sometime in the night to get the book. Luckily, he had slipped out of her room and returned to his bed before she awakened and found him there. He traced his finger on her lips and pushed back a sunlit curl on her forehead, and she stirred and woke, still a bit disoriented.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m staying with you, remember, Cousin?” he teased. She sat up instantly, ignoring her state of undress.

  “Where did you sleep last night?” He caught her examining the pillow next to her, where a definite indentation was noticeable. “You didn’t!”

  “You were having a bad dream. I simply came in to comfort you and, well, I decided to stay until—”

  “You decided to stay? You impudent rogue!”

  Nathaniel threw back his head and laughed, a deep belly laugh.

  “Now I’m a rogue. I seem to be descending in your estimation. First a pirate, then an adventurer, now a rogue. Cousin, you’re priceless.”

  “I am not your cousin, and get out of my bedroom!”

  “I’m sure we must have been related somewhere back in time.”

  “Impossible. Your line died out a long time ago…in the Stone Age. I suggest you leave, this instant. Kindly hand me my robe on your way out.” He looked around and tossed her the sheer white silk robe draped over the settee. Only then did she notice what she wore.

  “I don’t remember undressing,” Patience said, eyeing Nathaniel suspiciously. “You didn’t…”

  “I barely looked at you. You looked uncomfortable in that tight skirt, and you needed a good night’s sleep.”

  “You drugged me, didn’t you?”

  “Don’t freak out. I didn’t drug you. When I spoke to Sallie, she confided that you hadn’t been sleeping well. She was concerned about you, and she showed me where to find the sleeping pills your doctor prescribed in case you couldn’t—”

  “You did drug me, you bastard!”

  She stood on the bed, hands on her hips, and faced Nathaniel like an avenging angel.

  “In future, I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable! Stop undressing me, and kindly keep your hands to yourself.”

  “I’m working on that problem.” Nathaniel smiled.

  Patience turned her back to him, trying to put on the robe with some attempt at modesty.

  “You look just like the type who would take advantage. We didn’t…you know…did we?” she asked turning her head in his direction.

  “You would have known if we had,” he assured her, laughing at her naiveté. “I made breakfast.”

  “I suppose you want to be knighted for that.”

  “I simply thought, since you probably haven’t eaten in I don’t know how long, that I’d…” He shrugged.

  Patience bit her bottom lip and remembered her manners.

  “I’m sorry. That was very sweet of you.” She climbed down from the bed and followed Nathaniel into the kitchen. “I am hungry. What’s on the menu?”

  “Everything. Bacon, eggs, fresh fruit… I didn’t know what you liked.”

  “Mmm. I’ll take some of everything.” She started to get a plate.

  “Uh-uh, I’ll wait on you this morning.” Nathaniel got out plates, silverware, and napkins and sat her down with them at the kitchen table. “I even managed to make tea.”

  “Laced with drugs?”

  “Dammit, Patience, there are no drugs in your tea. It’s plain blackcurrant tea.”

  He moved the heavy silver tray he had prepared from the counter to the table, setting the teapot and the food where she could easily reach them, and watched as she poured tea from the teapot into the Wedgwood bone china cups. When her hands began to shake, he realized she really
needed to eat something.

  “Let me help,” he said as he stilled her hands and took the teapot. When he touched her, all the nerve endings in his body went haywire.

  He placed a lemon slice on the saucer, then spread preserves on a scone he’d found in a pastry box on the kitchen counter, and passed it to her on a delicate china plate. She refused with a wave of her hand.

  “You don’t have to serve me,” she said.

  “You were kind enough to let me stay last night, so—” He had the urge to rub his thumb tenderly under each of her eyes to remove the dark shadows, as an artist might do with the stroke of a brush.

  “But that was…” She gazed uncertainly into the distance.

  “When’s the last time you ate?” he prodded gently. His breath caught as he responded to the intimacy in her voice. He wanted to touch her again but held back, not ready to weaken her defenses further as she looked at him and a tear slipped down her cheek, then another, until they came in a steady flow. Despite her night’s sleep, he knew she was too exhausted to stop them, too despondent to care she was crying in front of a total stranger. She had been stoic at the funeral, hadn’t shed any tears. Maybe she was overdue.

  “I don’t want to eat,” she said.

  When her tears became unmanageable, Nathaniel offered his linen napkin solicitously so she could wipe her eyes.

  “Please, don’t cry,” he pleaded. He didn’t know what to do about the tears. An only child raised without a mother, he had grown up cared for by his grandmother. Gran was a rock, the most in-control woman he’d ever known. And the most beautiful. More beautiful than any movie star. All his friends had said he had the hottest grandmother around. But it was her strength he really admired. She’d always been there for him. He suspected she had dark secrets, a past life she never talked about. But she didn’t ever fall apart, and she never let him fall apart. In fact, he had never seen her cry. Soft and gentle? No one could accuse Gran of being either.

  After Gran’s death, he had wandered the globe aimlessly, all summer, without reason to put into any port more than a few days at a time, until now. With nothing to show for all that wasted time. He’d barely made a dent in his dissertation.