Harvest Moon Read Online Free PDF

onto her side, flipped her legs to the floor, and slipped on her cotton bathrobe, tightening the belt.
    “Morning, Boomer.”
    The dog stood from his thick, pillow-like bed, stretched his butt in the air, and followed her into the kitchen. She started coffee, then opened the sliding glass doors. Boomer crossed the deck and pranced down the steps, wandering the yard for his morning constitutional. Veronica went to the kitchen table, where her laptop was left running from last night.
    While she signed into her e-mail account, anticipation ambushed her, the same feeling she’d always get over these past six months whenever hoping to find a few treasured words from Ry. Emily’s cautionary reminders echoed in her mind. Everything about her contact with Ry always seemed like the real deal. A logical part of her understood, though, it wasn’t even close.
    The day she’d first sent him her e-mail address, he’d written back right away, asking if Musetta was her real name. Musetta, a French name meaning “ballad,” had also been a musical fairy in a book she’d loved as a child. When Ry gave her the nickname Etta, the gesture brought a strange intimacy to their relationship.
    Ry’s blog told readers the story of his nickname. A musical mentor he’d found in his first guitar teacher had given it to him. As a student, Ry’s musical tastes had ranged from rock to classical and everything in between. The mentor/teacher had shared the story of Ryland Cooder, one of the best guitarists of all time, who’d played a variety of music with great skill. The nickname “Ry” stuck with his teacher and musical friends from that day foreword.
    After they’d talked via e-mail a few times, she’d poked around the site for more on him. His bio said, “Ry works hard by day so he can pursue his love for music at night.” Not too revealing. As time passed, her curiosity about him grew.
    Boomer barked at the screened door. She quickly scanned her e-mail account. Nothing new from Ry. She let the dog inside and went into the kitchen.
    As she poured her coffee, disappointment settled in her chest. She toyed with the idea of sending a message to ask him where he lived and, if close, suggest they meet for coffee. As quickly as it occurred, she pushed it aside, mindful that Ry could really be just about anybody.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
    “All we need is your John Hancock on the dotted line and the car is yours.” Don Peroni handed Trent a pen, and a large Rolex, or knock-off of one, peeked out from beneath his suit jacket.
    “Just sign my life away, huh?” Trent grinned, even though the statement carried a grain of truth.
    “Trust me. In mid-January, you’ll be glad you made the trade.”
    The decision to switch his Audi was an attempt to start his new life without flaunting the excesses of his former one and get a more sensible car for winter weather. Outsiders drove around Northbridge in fancy sports cars and expensive SUV’s. This two-year-old Jeep Cherokee fit in, far less flashy than his red Audi.
    Trent scribbled his signature. “I suppose you want my keys for the trade-in?”
    “Whenever you’re ready.”
    Trent reached into the pocket of his Levis and quickly handed them over before he changed his mind. “Find a good home for her.”
    “Oh, this baby’ll sell fast. Don’t you worry.” Don smiled, flashing his coffee-stained teeth.
    Five minutes later, Trent pulled from the car lot and headed east on the lake road into downtown Northbridge. He imagined Duncan’s surprise at seeing the new wheels, but even if Trent explained how he’d simply wanted to blend in with others, Duncan wouldn’t quite understand. Confidence had always come easily to his brother.
    A mile from the center of town, Trent’s cell phone vibrated on the passenger’s seat. He glanced at the caller ID, hesitated, then pulled to the curbside and answered.
    He pressed the “talk” button. “Hi, Mom.”
    “Are you in Northbridge yet?”
    “You