Page 80 of Moonlit Hideaway
As hard as it was to admit it, Hank had to concur. “Sierra came here to get away from him, but she couldn’t escape her destiny.”
“But what about you?” Emma’s eyes widened with concern. “I thought you wanted to marry her.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to speculate?” He tried to keep his words light. “Remember our rule about gossip and speculating on other people’s lives?”
“Except everyone’s saying Marco threw Sierra into the water, and you rescued her. Why would she leave you when you saved her life?”
Hank’s heart ached at the innocent question, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Emma the truth about Sierra’s leap. Instead, he chose his words carefully, “Sierra’s a good woman, brave and loving. She felt it was her duty as Marco’s wife to be by his side while he recovers. I know it’s hard to understand.”
The light in Emma’s eyes dimmed as she realized Sierra wasn’t coming back. Her guitar slipped from her lap and landed with a twang on the floor.
“But… she was gonna help me with my music. She promised she would make me a rockstar.” Her voice caught on the last word.
“I know, sweetie.” Hank rocked Emma gently, hugging her tighter as much for his own aching heart as hers. “Sierra wanted that too. Sometimes, things happen that we don’t expect. Shecares about you very much, but she had responsibilities she couldn’t walk away from.”
Emma buried her face in Hank’s shoulder. “It’s not fair! I thought she was my friend. I thought Sierra would be there for me and help me pursue my dreams.”
“Maybe those aren’t dreams that will come true,” he said as gently as he could. “Being an innkeeper can provide stability and a safe future for you.”
Emma pulled back, tears shimmering in her eyes. “How? No one here understands me. I don’t want to be stuck running the inn forever!”
She picked up her guitar and glanced at the spot where Sierra had once sat, playing music and laughing with her. Then, with a choked sob, she turned and ran upstairs to the sanctuary of her room.
Needing some air, Hank stepped outside to clear his mind. But somehow, even with the sun shining, he couldn’t find the peace of the rhythmic waves shaping the pillowy sand dunes. Tasting each drop of bitter regret, he turned away from the sea and wandered to the garden where the Baxter family were laid to rest. The old oak tree sheltered the rows of silent headstones covered with a carpet of fallen leaves.
A grunting sound stopped him in his tracks, and he almost ran into Emma’s pet pig rooting around the faded flower beds. His snout swept aside the russet leaves, and he was too preoccupied with whatever he’d found to notice Hank’s approach. Curious, Hank knelt beside the pig who was snuffling and rooting through a specific spot at the base of an old oak tree.
“What are you digging up?” Hank bent over to examine the disturbed ground. The rusted edge of a box appeared underneath the pig’s snout.
He’d heard tales of buried treasure from the days of pirates roaming the island, and he helped Oliver unearth a small metalbox—a Keroppi box from the 1990s with a cartoon picture of a boy frog holding hands with a girl frog. He remembered that box. It was one of the few keepsakes from his childhood, and he’d given it to Chloe when they first started dating.
Oliver continued to root beneath the oak tree, no doubt looking for truffles or mushrooms, while Hank opened the lid. Inside were several keepsakes—a pair of guitar-shaped earrings, a first-place medal, ticket stubs to concerts he’d never been to, and a folded piece of paper, yellowed with age, with his name written on it.
Fingers trembling, he unfolded the letter and read the familiar handwriting of his late wife.
Dearest Hank,I love you more than words can say, but you or my parents cannot keep me on this island any longer. I need to fly free, to chase the dreams that have haunted me for so long. I don’t expect you to understand, especially since I’m leaving our precious Emma, but I trust you to love her and provide for her. It’s better for her to have one devoted father than a mother who’s slowly suffocating in this island prison.
Her pleading words brought chills to his spine. It was as if she were speaking them directly to him from beyond the grave. He continued reading.
You must understand, Hank, that it’s not you I’m leaving, but this place. The thought of spending the rest of my life here suffocates me, and I must breathe. I am determined to be a rock star, even if it kills me. Should anything happen to me, take good care of Emma, and please find love again. Don’t let this island cage you as it has tried to cage me. Be free, my love. Always remember that I loved you fiercely and without reservation.
The letter ended with Chloe’s signature flourish, leaving him numb to the core.
He lowered the letter, tears blurring his vision. All these years, he’d thought Chloe’s death was an unfortunate accident. He’d had no idea she was determined to leave and never return. His fears had made him build a cage for first Chloe and now Emma. His instinct to protect had cost him one love already. If he wasn’t careful, it could happen again.
Oliver perked up and grunted as a shadow fell across him.
“Son?”
Hank looked up to see his mother standing before him, her eyes filled with concern. She glanced at the box and letter in his hands and sighed deeply.
“You found it,” she said, her gaze falling to the ground. “I buried it because I didn’t want you to feel worse after Chloe’s death. I thought it would only cause you more pain.”
Hank let out a bitter laugh. “You were right about that. Maybe if I’d known, things would be different now.”
“Maybe,” she agreed hesitantly. “But we can’t change the past. We can only learn from it and move forward.”
As his mother’s words sank in, Hank realized he had found love again with Sierra. He couldn’t let her go without a fight, no matter the obstacles ahead. He promised himself he would do anything for Sierra, even if it meant leaving the inn and traveling with her. And even if that were impossible because of her marriage to a mobster, he would at least let her know he supported her dreams.
