Read Online Beneath the Black Moon (Root Sisters) by Clara Fine - Free Book Online Page A

the arrival of yet another of the Charmon children.
James Charmon was twelve or thirteen, and he carried himself like the man of
the house.
    “And
just where in the hell have you been?” Mrs. Charmon asked, eying her son
critically. “Begging your pardon, Miss Johnson,” she added to Cam. Cam waved
the woman’s apology away and was just about to hand a jar of preserves to Lydia
when she sensed movement in the bushes on the side of the clearing. She could
feel her own jaw drop as Brent Anderson emerged from the forest behind James.
He looked even more devastatingly handsome than he had the night before, which
was saying something. Gone was his dress coat from last night. In fact, he
wasn’t wearing a coat at all, only a loose white linen shirt over black
trousers that were tucked into black riding boots. He casually carried a rifle
over one shoulder, and his golden hair was slightly mussed. Cam swallowed,
resisted the urge to stare at the perfect tan skin that was exposed at the base
of his throat where he had failed to button the top two buttons. Instead she
looked away, hoping to pretend that she wasn’t in the least affected by his
presence. It wasn’t at all appropriate, meeting a man who was practically a
stranger while unchaperoned, and if he had even a shred of common decency he
would decline to acknowledge her, and they could both go on with their day and
forget that they had ever encountered each other.
    “Miss
Johnson! What a pleasant surprise!”
    Damn
him. Cam seethed as he made his way leisurely toward
them, an insufferable smirk settling over his features as he caught sight of
the fury that sparked in her eyes. Pleasant surprise my foot! She
wondered how he had known to find her here. He must have spoken to one of her
friends – except that she didn’t really have any these days. One of Helen’s
acquaintances then. Aunt Beth certainly wouldn’t have told him, she would have
been too fearful of an improper encounter— such as this one.
    “Hello
Mr. Anderson,” Cam finally replied, trying and failing to keep the acid out of
her tone. His grin widened, as though he was pleased to have a reaction from
her. “This is a surprise,” she said. At least to me.
    “Jamie,
who is this?” Mrs. Charmon had tensed slightly, probably picking up on Cam’s
discomfort. Her gaze slid from Cam to the rifle-toting stranger with some
alarm.
    “Mr.
Brent Anderson,” James piped up proudly. “He’s been teaching me to hunt.”
    “Really?”
Mrs. Charmon glanced at Cam as though to gauge her reaction.
    “Isn’t
that kind of him?” Cam said. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and
she had resorted to using Marianne’s sickly sweet enthusiasm. “How wonderful.”
    “Hm.”
Mrs. Charmon said. She didn’t look quite convinced.
    “It’s
nothing, really,” Brent said, his gaze touching Cam like a private dare.
    “Very
well,” Cam agreed easily. She wasn’t going to protest and stroke his ego any
further, not when she knew that he was here to set a trap for her and not to
help the unfortunate Charmons. Damn, she and Mary should have stayed together
today, even if the errands would have taken them twice as long.
    “Do
you and Mr. Anderson know each other, Miss Cam?” Lydia asked curiously. She
looked slightly in awe of Brent.
    “That’s
none of our business,” Mrs. Charmon quickly interrupted her daughter. “Thank
you so much for the basket, Miss Johnson.” She clasped Cam’s hand once,
gratefully. “I’ll just put the food away and you can have the basket back.”
    “No
need.” Cam said quickly. “I can’t stay long.” If it weren’t for Brent she would
have at least remained long enough to see how the babies fared, but his hot
gaze made her uncomfortable. She wanted to leave before he could start asking
any questions that she’d rather not answer.  “I’ll return for it… another day,”
she said vaguely when she saw that Brent was listening attentively.
    “We’re
very