Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Goddess of the Moon—was there anything I didn’t find attractive about this woman?
I had to stop it, I told myself. I couldn’t be attracted to a Moon Widow. But I kept catching myself looking at her from the corner of my eye. She was so pretty when she smiled…and when she didn’t smile…and all the time, really. I literally couldn’t take my eyes off her, though I swear I tried.
At last we came off the twisty backwoods roads and got into the town limits. Blackridge was a tiny hamlet of only two thousand people, if the city limits sign was to be believed, and I believed it, especially when I saw the town.
It was small and picturesque—the kind of spot you’d stop on your honeymoon to get memorable pictures. And being surrounded by the Appalachian Mountains meant it was full of natural beauty.
Yet, the people I saw on the street as I drove the Rolls Royce Silver Ghost slowly through the common area didn’t look happy. They shot me mistrustful glances and several of them pointed and whispered when they looked at Vivienne.
She kept her head held high and I noticed that a rigid expression had taken over her previously animated features. She looked calm and serene on the outside, but I thought I saw a trapped expression, hiding far back in her gold-ringed eyes.
I found a place to park in a small lot between the grocery store—Bowman’s Grocery—and the post office. Vivienne had told me she needed to pick up a package she’d ordered and a few things for dinner.
I hurried around the front of the car to open her door and watched with admiration as she emerged, looking like a queen. There was an innate elegance in her—a grace you don’t often see in people these days.
“My Lady,” I said, only half joking and offered her my arm.
After a moment of hesitation—she took it and gave me that shy smile I was beginning to love. The one that said she wasn’t quite sure if she ought to be smiling at all, but she wanted to anyway.
We walked through the lot and Vivienne said she wanted to visit the post office first.
“As my Lady wishes,” I said gravely, still continuing my display of chivalry and she giggled and put a hand over her mouth.
I escorted her into the Post Office—a tiny building with a wall of PO boxes on one side—and we stood in line behind an old man mailing a package to his grandson in Peru.
This was a lengthy transaction, and I had time to notice that the people at the counter were looking at us—well, mostly looking at Vivienne. It was two women, one with gray hair in curls and the other with her blonde hair in a businesslike ponytail.
The two of them were staring at Vivienne in a very unfriendly way. It made me wonder if she had offended them somehow. They kept looking at her and then whispering to each other while the single male employee kept helping the old man figure out the correct postage for Peru.
Finally, I’d had enough. The two women didn’t seem to be doing anything at all but gossiping—meanwhile Vivienne was waiting patiently, seemingly oblivious to the way she was getting talked about.
“Excuse me,” I said, raising my voice and looking directly at them. “Could one of you ladies please help Lady Vivienne? She’s picking up a few things she ordered online.”
Their eyes flew wide in surprise, and I guessed that they weren’t used to people asking them to actually do their job. But after a moment, the woman with the blonde ponytail came forward and said, in a grudging tone,
“Packages for the Pack Leader’s wife, you say?”
“Yes, Barbara—thank you,” Vivienne said graciously, stepping up to the long counter.
“Well, let me see. I don’t know if there’s anything for you at all,” Barbara said, frowning.
“There should be—I got a notice that the new clothes I ordered were in,” Vivienne said politely.
“Oh, new clothes, is it?” the other woman sneered. “Guess you can’t wait to start living it up now that poor Pack Master Carter is gone.”
Vivienne bowed her head, two spots of color blooming on her cheeks.
“I never…I just needed some new summer dresses,” she said in a low voice.
It struck me that she was used to being talked to like this or why else would she put up with it? Maybe Uncle Carter hadn’t allowed her to talk back if the people of the Pack insulted her.
Well, there was no one stopping me from speaking up.
“Why would you say that?” I demanded, staring directly at the blonde woman. “The Lady Vivienne is a grieving widow. Why would you assume she ordered new clothes to celebrate the fact that her husband died?”
The woman looked taken aback. Her eyes went wide, and her face went pale.