Tears of the Moon by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online

with music with him to Faerie Hill, and his fiddle and bodhran drum as well.
    The rug was still there, a faded old maroon. She’d sat on it countless times, pretending to be bored while he’d played some tune.
    The first time she’d fallen in love, it had been with Shawn Gallagher’s music. So long ago, she thought now, she couldn’t remember the song or the time. It was more an always sort of thing. Not that she’d ever let him know that. To her way of thinking you got a body moving quicker with pokes than with strokes. Though God knew, so far neither had inspired the man to move off his butt and do a blessed thing with his tunes.
    She wanted it for him, the mule of a man. Wanted him to do what he’d been destined to do and take his music to the world.
    But, she reminded herself, it wasn’t her problem, and gnawing over it again in her mind wasn’t why she’d come here today.
    This, she thought, pursing her lips, was Jude’s problem.
    The walls were a mess, Brenna decided with a quick scan. Outlines where Shawn had hung pictures and whatnot stood out against the sun-faded paint. Dozens of nail holes pocked the walls as well, proving the man didn’t have a way with a hammer.
    But she could recall that whenever his mother had a whim to deal with his room, he’d just smiled and told her not to bother. He liked it just as it was.
    Brenna leaned against the doorjamb, already visualizing how to turn the neglected male space into a cheery nursery. And thinking, she let her gaze rest on her friends, who stood by the window looking out.
    Darcy with her gorgeous hair falling wild and free, Jude with her deep, rich brown hair bound neatly back. They were a contrast in styles, she supposed, with Darcy bright as the sun, and Jude subtle as a moonbeam. They were about the same height, about average for a woman, Brenna mused. Which put them both a good three inches over her. Their builds were similar as well, though Darcy had more in the curve department and didn’t trouble to hide it.
    They were both easily, unmistakably female.
    It wasn’t something Brenna envied—of course it wasn’t. But she did wish, just now and again, that she didn’t feel like such a fool whenever she put on a skirt and girl shoes.
    Since it wasn’t something she cared to dwell on, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and cocked her head.
    â€œHow are you going to figure out what you want done in here if you stare out the window all day?”
    Jude turned, grinned so that her pretty, serious face lit up. “We’re watching Aidan on the beach with Finn.”
    â€œThe man ran out like a rabbit,” Darcy put in as Brenna strolled over, “the minute we started talking paper and paint and fabrics. Said he had to exercise the dog.”
    â€œWell, now.” Brenna peeked out the window herself, spotted Aidan and the young dog, Finn, sitting on the beach and watching the water. “That’s a fine sight, anyway. A broad-shouldered man and a handsome dog on a winter’s beach.”
    â€œHe’s thinking deep thoughts, I’ll wager, on impending fatherhood.” Darcy shot her brother a last look of affection, then turned, hands on hips. “And it’s up to us to deal with the practicalities of the matter while he sits and philosophizes.”
    Brenna gave Jude’s flat belly a friendly pat. “How’s it all going, then?”
    â€œFine. The doctor says we’re both healthy.”
    â€œI heard you’re still queasy of a morning.”
    Jude rolled her sea-green eyes. “Aidan fusses. You’d think I was the first woman to conceive a child since Eve. It’s just a little morning sickness. It’ll pass.”
    â€œIf it were me,” Darcy announced and flopped onto her brother’s old bed, “I’d play it up for all it was worth. Pampering, Jude Frances, you should rake in all the fussing and