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Because of the snow, I couldn’t see what landscaping had been chosen for the outside, but I suspected it was as lovely as the house itself.
Cabins for guests had been built to the left of the house. From a quick glance, I guessed there were ten, all the same size. A gas firepit with chairs arranged around it had been turned on, warming the toes of a petite woman in a red knit hat and puffy coat. Next to her, a little girl with a matching cap sipped from a steaming mug.
The barn remained, although it looked freshly painted red, with bright white trim. Beyond it, I recognized what used to be the bunkhouse. It was now a restaurant, appropriately named the Bunkhouse.
My driver fetched my bags and left them near a building marked “office” where I assumed I would register. As I stepped onto the gravel driveway, I felt gratitude for my low-heeled boots.
“Thank you so much,” I said to the driver, placing a fifty-dollar bill into the palm of his hand.
“Have a good Thanksgiving,” he said gruffly before getting back into his car.
I left my suitcases by the door instead of bringing them into the lobby. Hopefully someone could take them to my cabin for me. I hadn’t packed light. Not unusual. Ben had always given me a hard time about bringing too much on vacation.
Inside, a pretty blonde woman sat behind a desk, reading something on the computer. Christmas music played softly in the background. Twinkling lights on a short tree lit up one corner of the lobby. Swaths of holly and pine branches adorned the counter. A photograph of the five Moon brothers hung on the wall near the entrance. Taken not long after I left, given how old they all looked. It took everything in me not to stop and stare.
The woman rose to her feet as I approached the counter. Her eyes widened, and she splayed her hand on top of the counter as if to steady herself. She recognized me. Great.
“Welcome to Crescent Moon Ranch. I’m Finley. Are you checking in?” British accent. How had she found her way to Montana?
“Yes. The name’s Mary Jones.”
One brow raised, but other than that she had no reaction. “Right, I have you in cabin 6 until the first of the year.”
“I don’t think that’s right,” I said. “I’m only staying a few days.”
Finley checked the computer screen. “Weird. The system booked you for the whole month of December. But that’s no problem. I can change that to whatever days you wish to stay.”
“Can we leave it open-ended for now?”
“Certainly. There’s only one other guest and her little girl here through the Thanksgiving weekend, and only a few more arriving next week. Other than that, you’ll have the place to yourself.”
“Good. That’s what I want,” I said.
“The cabin has a king bed and little kitchenette, as you requested.” Pink lipstick stained Finley’s bee-stung lips. A close-fitting blue suit flattered her slim figure. She tossed honey-hued hair behind her shoulder and gave me a smile that would have dazzled, even in Hollywood. “My job is to make sure you’re taken care of while you stay with us. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. We’re old-fashioned here, so you’ll have to use the landline in your cabin or come see me, though. I bet you’re used to more posh hotels.”
“I am, but I’m excited to be here.”
“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but I adore you inHawthorne. You’re a really, really good actress.”
I stifled a sigh.You wanted to be an actress,I reminded myself. “Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”
“I can understand why you needed to register under a fake name,” Finley said. “It must get old, all the paparazzi and that. But I can promise you, here at the Crescent Moon Ranch, you’ll be left alone to relax and recharge.”
She lifted a green key chain attached to an actual metal key from the ones that hung on hooks behind her. Old-school. No wonder this place was so popular. It was like stepping back in time.
“Wedohave internet.” Finley made a so-so gesture with her hand. “But it’s not fast. Or particularly reliable. We have better luck with the cell towers, so if you have to look something up online for example, you should use your phone.” She flushed red. “I mean, if you needed it for anything.”
Okay. She’d obviously seen all the stories.
“Also, there are no televisions in the rooms. If you want to watch something, you have to do it in our communal area, which is in the bar of the Bunkhouse. The boys have to have their American football, don’t they?”
The boys? Did she mean the Moon brothers? I didn’t ask, afraid to open that Pandora’s box. Did she know it had been their father who was involved with my mother?
“Do you fancy a tour of the property now, or do you want to get settled first?”
“I think I can just wander around on my own, thank you.”
If she was disappointed she did not show it.
