Page 60 of Luna

Luna took two more chips of ice from the bag, stuck one in her mouth to suck on, and gave the other to Hunter.

He offered her a nod of thanks and continued turning the crank.

“Does your family often make ice cream?” he asked after several moments of companionable silence.

“Not often, but sometimes. Usually, if we have ice cream, it is when we gather at Aunt Angelina and Uncle Franco’s home, which is often on Sunday afternoons. My mama and aunts, who are really cousins, take turns making ice cream. My favorite is Anne’s lemon ice cream.”

“I take it from the amount of lemonade you consume, you must favor the tart flavor.”

“Sometimes. Other times, I prefer chocolate or berry. It just depends.”

“On?”

She grinned at him. “My mood. Don’t you know females are moody creatures of mystery, and it’s hopeless to endeavor to figure out the reasoning behind any of it?”

“I’ve been told that before,” Hunter said in a dry tone. “I think I’ll keep trying. I’m persistent, if nothing else.”

Luna wanted to list all the things she found him to be, like amusing and intelligent, generous and good, but she kept her thoughts to herself and changed the subject. “Tell me more about your family and life in Asheville.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What is Bramble Hall like? I picture it like Dogwood Corners, only older and grander.”

Hunter nodded. “That’s a good comparison. It is bigger and older. It survived the War Between the States, which my grandmother will often point out. There are acres and acres of apple orchards and pastures full of the horses my family raises.”

Luna’s brow furrowed as she fished out more ice chips for them to suck on. “What kind of horses are they again?”

“Thoroughbred. Like Wind and Breeze.”

“Oh, I see,” although she didn’t. To her, a horse was a horse, although she realized there were vast differences between a pony and one of the hulking draft horses used to pull heavy wagons. “What color is your room at Bramble Hall?”

“What color is my room?” Hunter looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “My room.” He paused as though he had to think about the color. “Mostly dark blue with some grays.”

“I wondered. Those seem to be your preferred colors, as we’ve previously discussed,” she said.

“They are. I know you love purple. What’s your favorite holiday?”

Luna almost said Christmas because she did love the holiday, but spoke from her heart. “Easter.”

“Why Easter?” Hunter asked, dumping more ice and salt into the freezer before he continued cranking the handle.

“Because it is in the spring, which is my favorite season, and I love that it marks a time of renewal and birth and fresh hope. It’s a reminder that change can be a beautiful thing and life is very precious.”

Hunter stopped turning the crank and stared at her a moment before he continued cranking. “I kind of think of Christmas in those same terms, not of things renewing, but of birth and hope and the reminders to treasure those we love because life is very short at best.”

“You two sound like you’re deep in some philosophical discussion my brain is too tired to grasp,” Nik said, scrubbing a hand over his face, then forking it through his disheveled hair. “Thanks for letting us sleep. We needed it.”

Hunter nodded. “We figured the ice cream would be ready about the time you two moseyed out here. Is Dally awake?”

“Yep. She’s in the bathroom. Thank goodness for modern conveniences. Otherwise, I’d be up half the night walking her to the outhouse if we still had to use one.”

Luna marveled at the frank way Nik and Hunter talked about ordinary, everyday things that some people would have viewed as quite impolite in mixed company. Or perhaps it was because Nik was a doctor that those everyday things didn’t seem so odd to discuss.

At any rate, Hunter gave the ice cream one final crank. “It’s ready.”

“Dally made a peach cobbler to eat with the ice cream,” Nik said, opening the back door.

“I’ll help serve,” Luna said, hopping to her feet and following him inside.

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