Page 64 of Moonlit Hideaway
“What are you trying to say?” Hank’s head was whirling from the information overload.
“That you being with Jane is feeding ideas for Emma that she can be the next big star. She’s been dreaming and mooning around, saying she can’t wait to be eighteen and leave the island with,” Mom made air quotes, “Jane. I know you’re caught up with it all, and Jane’s an attractive woman, but Hank, do you think she’s serious about you? I can’t see her settling here. I wonder if she’s scared and frightened right now, and falling into your arms is easy for her.”
“Are you saying I’m just a phase?” Hank’s heart sank. His mother’s words echoed his deepest fears. Could he offer Sierra the life she deserved?
Mom put her hand on his shoulder. “I hope not, for your sake, but I’m a woman, and I can’t see her satisfied to hang out here when she’s such a big star. The news is already buzzing about her absence, and her fans are flooding her penthouse with letters and cards. Her assistant has been interviewed and said that Sierra is suffering from mental exhaustion, but there are other rumors that range from drug rehab to eloping with a billionaire and speculations of lurid drama, love triangles, and even some saying the disappearance is to increase her star power.”
How was Hank to tell his mother that he believed Sierra loved him? He couldn’t. She would claim he was delusional—that a fancy pop star couldn’t love a widower who lived on a remote island. He was neither a billionaire nor an athlete nor a rockstar.
All he could do was shake his head and laugh. Perhaps after all this was over, he would prove to be the biggest chump ever. He didn’t doubt Sierra’s sincerity, but given her emotional state,maybe she’d wake up and realize he was too yokel for her—a refreshing break from her hectic, exciting life—but only a bump in the road to remember fondly along with her Grammy awards, Super Bowl halftime shows, and top of the charts star power.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sierra and Howie returned to the inn, finding Hank and his mother coming out of the office. She took one look at Hank and knew something was up. While her heart was still echoing the love notes she’d composed, the tension between him and his mother was thick.
Her gaze met his across the dim foyer, letting him know of her own longing and uncertainty.
“Uh oh, looks like the war council got you all wrapped in a knot,” Howie said. “I should mosey along and catch the news.”
He took off his cap and shuffled to his usual spot in the TV room. The aging floorboards creaked under his feet, a contrast to the welcoming scent of freshly baked bread and beeswax candles.
Hank’s stormy eyes clung to Sierra for a weighted moment before he glanced at his mother’s stiff shoulders. Sierra yearned to melt into his arms, to lay her head against his chest and listen to the steady rhythm that had come to mean home. But something held her back. Mabel, formerly friendly and talkative, wore a tight look that spoke of disapproval, or was it fear?
“I should go to my room and jot down my song before it escapes.”
Hank nodded without comment, and Sierra felt a pang of loss. The warmth of Hank’s nearness was a contrast to the cool distance now between them.
Given Hank’s mood, she didn’t want to trigger him with talk about the two suspicious men. Likely, he was already upset about the realtor and mayor, who had driven off in a huff.
As she climbed the narrow staircase, she paused, hearing the low murmurs of Hank and his mother. She hesitated, wondering what she was doing here, stirring up trouble in this sweet little family. Clearly, Mabel wasn’t thrilled at how close she and Hank had become, and Hank was furious with Emma for her social media post. None of this would have happened had she chosen another hideaway.
With a reluctant sigh, Sierra continued to her room with her guitar case slung over her back.
Emma’s door opened, and the teen and her pig trotted toward her.
“See-er-jane! You’re back.” Emma’s smile was genuine with pleasure.
“Hey you,” she said, aiming for a cheerful tone. “I’m trying to recreate that melody we were working on…”
She trailed off as Emma rushed forward to hug her fiercely.
“Dad told me I made a mess,” Emma mumbled into her shoulder. “I’m sorry about the post.”
Sierra’s heart caught. However unintended, Emma’s actions had raised the stakes. But she couldn’t add to the girl’s distress by admitting that.
“It’s okay, I promise.” She stroked Emma’s hair gently. She was more worried about Emma’s distress than her own safety. Was this what a maternal bond felt like?
“Can you teach me that new song you wrote?” Emma bounced back like any teenager. “I’ll go get my guitar.”
Oliver, her miniature pig, grunted happily as he shuffled back to Emma’s room, leaving Sierra with a wistful smile. Emma reminded her of herself, growing up awkward and shy and then hitting her stride and blossoming once her family recognized her talent. Sierra wanted to capture Emma’s youthful enthusiasm and build the resilience a star needed. Knowing she could help Emma during her time here, she wanted to freeze this moment forever.
Emma returned, and soon, the two sat side by side with their guitars. Oliver lay happily on the braided rug as Emma tuned her guitar.
“What was it like being away? Did you miss us?” Emma asked.
“I did miss you and your grandmother and the island, too,” Sierra said. “I think you’ll like the song I created this afternoon. It reminds me of our moonlit beach sings.”
“I hope we can always do this together,” Emma said as Sierra named the chord progression before starting to sing the new song. It was a hopeful tune that perfectly suited the upcoming Harvestfest—a glittering dream of family and belonging almost close enough to grasp.
