Moonlight in the Morning by Jude Deveraux Page A

table. Right away, Jecca knew who was whom. The taller one had an elegance about her in the way she stood, with her back rigid, that would cause people to call her “Mrs. Wingate.” Jecca hadn’t been told, but she knew that only Tristan and his sister called her “Miss Livie.” The shorter woman was smiling, friendly-looking. She would be Lucy. It flashed through Jecca’s mind that her father would love being here with these pretty women.
    “There you are,” said the taller one. “Come and join us for breakfast. I’m Olivia Wingate and this is Lucy Cooper.”
    “Hello,” Jecca said, looking at Lucy at the range, a skillet in her hands. She didn’t look like someone who hid from the world.
    “We have bacon, scramb Kbacthisled eggs, and banana muffins,” Lucy said. Her voice was pleasant, with a lilt to it that seemed to say she was glad to be alive. “Any? All?”
    “Everything,” Jecca said. “I missed dinner last night.”
    “You did come in late,” Mrs. Wingate said, then both women looked at Jecca as though waiting for an explanation.
    Small towns! she thought. No one in her apartment building in New York noticed what time she came and went. “I fell asleep on the chaise lounge,” she said.
    “I saw that it and the chair had been moved,” Lucy said as she took the muffins out of the oven.
    Jecca cursed that she’d forgotten to put the furniture back where she found it. But then it had been too dark to see.
    “It’s all right,” Mrs. Wingate said. “Tris put them back this morning. That boy still wanders around in the dark. It’s a wonder he didn’t trip over you last night.”
    Jecca avoided Mrs. Wingate’s eyes as she sat down at the table. There was a big bowl of blackberries in the middle and she ate one. “I keep hearing about this man Tristan. Is he here at this house often?”
    “You just missed him,” Mrs. Wingate said. “He brought the berries. He has a patch at his house.”
    “And of course he misted his plants, and looked after them,” Lucy said.
    “Kim talks about him often. What’s he like?” Jecca asked, trying to sound as though she was just making conversation.
    “He’s a quiet, hardworking boy,” Mrs. Wingate said.
    “He’s a wonderful young man, and he’ll do anything for you. He’s helped me in so many ways,” Lucy said.
    “You mean he’s helped you medically?”
    “Oh no! When I got the 380, Tristan was the one who figured out how to use the semi-automatic threader.”
    “Are you talking about a sewing machine?” Jecca asked.
    “Yes, of course,” Lucy said.
    “You’ll have to see Lucy’s workroom and all the machines she has,” Mrs. Wingate said.
    “I just bought a Sashiko,” Lucy said proudly but didn’t explain what that was. “The truth is, I can thread my own machines now, but Tristan and I have such nice chats that I pretend that the serger is beyond me.”
    “Tristan has always been good company,” Mrs. Wingate said as she put a basket full of hot muffins on the table. “Haven’t you met him?” she asked Jecca.
    “I haven’t seen him, no.” She looked at Mrs. Wingate. “Didn’t Kim say you’ve known him since he was a child?”
    “Yes.” She smiled. “He started coming over here when he was still in diapers. I’d feed him, then walk him home, and each time I’d tell him that he couldn’t come again unless hi Kainhen he ws mother called first. I enjoyed his visits, but I was afraid she’d worry when she couldn’t find him.” She gave a sigh. “He didn’t do what I asked. I learned to phone his mother as soon as I saw him here.”
    Lucy handed Jecca a plate full of bacon and scrambled eggs. “Tristan does what he wants to.”
    “Yes, he does,” Mrs. Wingate said, and there was admiration in her voice.
    “Is he married?” Jecca asked. She knew the answer but hoped they’d keep talking.
    “Oh no,” Lucy said. “He’s quite unattached. He doesn’t even have a girlfriend at the moment.”
    “If this guy is