When You Look at Me (A Pleasant Gap Romance Book 2)

by Pepper Basham

  Hall Leys Park. No wonder Henry spoke so highly of the place. It radiated welcome.

  As she closed in on the children’s area, she spotted a familiar figure sitting on a park bench near the swings. Was that Henry? Did he come to the park to enjoy a break from recording?

  As she neared, the slightly fuller face and darker hair of the man revealed, not Henry, but Matthew, the eldest Wright brother. She’d met him briefly at the engagement party, and he’d seemed nice enough. A little unusual in his delivery, but nothing like Elliott. There was definitely more of Henry in Matthew’s personality.

  She stepped closer. He seemed oblivious to her approach, his attention focused on the newspaper he held.

  She cleared her throat.

  No response. But it had to be him. He and Henry had the same profile. And ears.

  “Matthew?”

  His dark head came up, and he blinked her into view. He didn’t say anything. No greeting. No smile.

  Maybe she had the wrong person. But, in her defense, he’d responded to the name. “I…I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Julia.”

  “Julia? From the historical society?”

  “Um…No.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you one of Elliott’s girls? Because I don’t give handouts no matter what he’s told you—”

  “No, I’m definitely not one of Elliott’s girls.” How many girls did Elliott have? “I’m with Henry. His girlfriend?”

  Matthew’s expression blanked then, almost like ice melting, his countenance cleared into a small smile. “Yes. Yes. The American.”

  “Yes. The American.” She looked out over the park, searching for any little children that might look like Wrights. “Rose and I wanted to take a tour of Matlock while we were here. It’s a lovely town.”

  “Is it?” He took in their surroundings as if only now aware of the laughter, chatter, landscape, and color encompassing them. “I suppose it has its charm, in its own way.”

  Silence grew between them until Matthew returned to his paper. What a unique guy. She watched him and almost grinned, patting Rose, who rested in the sling against her chest, so she could do something in the awkward stillness. She sat next to him on the bench. “You have two children, don’t you?”

  He looked up as if he were almost surprised to see her still around, but didn’t appear annoyed at her intrusion. “Yes.”

  “Are your children with you today?”

  “Of course.” He nodded. “I don’t come to the park alone. There’s really no use for it.”

  He returned to the paper, leaving Julia once more in silence so she surveyed the playground. A dark-haired girl, probably five or six years old, sat alone on a swing, barely moving. Her little lips pouted, and her gaze stayed riveted to the ground. What a lonely picture she presented. Someone needed to give her a push.

  Matthew didn’t seem to notice.

  A few other children played nearby, but none resembled any of the Wrights. Then a little boy on the slide caught her attention. His dark hair shone in the same shade as Matthew’s, but in a mass of curls that tangled in all directions. He seemed as oblivious to the people around him as his dad, waiting for children to take their turns on the slide, but never looking at them or attempting to communicate. Instead, he performed a routine of ladder, slide, one, two, three skips at the end, then starting all over again. The entire sequence looked almost…rehearsed in some strange way.

  Odd. But Sophie would know what was different about him. Kids, learning, and communication were her life.

  Her attention drifted back to the little girl on the swing. “Is that Mary?”

  Matthew looked up again, almost startled, and then followed her gaze. “Yes.”

  She breathed out a sigh. This conversation was going to require some work. “Is she all right?”

  He glanced at his daughter then peered over his glasses at Julia with pale eyes. “I suppose so. Why do you ask?”

  “I just thought she looked sad.”

  “Does she?” He lowered his paper to his lap and turned back to study his daughter, his brow puckering like Henry’s when focused. “How can you tell?”

  “Well, she’s all alone and not even swinging, really.”

  “I rather like being alone.”

  “I don’t think she does.”

  He turned back to his daughter. “Really?”

  “And is the little boy on the slide Connor?”

  Matthew shifted his body a full ninety degrees on the bench so that their knees almost touched. “How did you guess?”

  “They look like you.”

  “Do they?”

  Could he really be so unaware? “Yes—their hair and eyes. I haven’t seen them smile”—or you— “but I imagine they’d have even more similarities then.”

  He looked at her as if she were the biggest curiosity in the park. Had no one taken time to draw his attention to these simple things about his children? To help him connect with them?

  She gestured toward his son. “Connor must really like the slide.”

  “Yes. Over and over again. I’m afraid he gets his pleasure in routine from his father.” He grinned at his own little joke, and a sudden surge of compassion drew her closer to this little family within Henry’s larger one. How much they needed someone to offer a little kindness and guidance.

  Is this what Henry had meant about wanting things to be different for the family he chose—the one they’d hopefully create together? An example of something better for his mother and brothers to see? She sighed back against the bench, rubbing a palm down Rose’s back. Julia had taken so much for granted.

  Mary pressed her palm against her stomach, her frown growing. Julia checked the time. Eleven thirty.

  “I wonder, Matthew, if Mary is hungry?”

  His gaze swung from his newspaper to her again. “She’s made no mention of it.”

  “When was breakfast?”

  “Half past eight, as always. I’m quite a good cook.”

  She tempered her smile at his little boast. “And they’ve not had a snack since?”

  “No, why?”

  “Kids usually need to eat a little more often than adults.” Someone needed to take him in hand and teach him…relationship skills. “Because they’re growing.”

  “And here I thought I’d made improvements by at least getting them out of the house, as my nanny suggested. I suppose I’m meant to bring food along, too?”

  Julia reached into the diaper bag, in the area with a freezer pack, and pulled out two string cheese sticks she kept on hand for herself, handing them over to him. He groaned. “I do wish Mrs. Langston had written these sorts of things down more carefully.”

  “Mrs. Langston?”

  “The nanny.”

  “Oh.” Julia caught Mary’s attention and gestured for her to come closer. The little girl gave a wary look around then left the swing. “Is this her day off?”

  “Day off? Good heavens, no. She’s having surgery and won’t be with us for five days.” His shoulders bent beneath the weight of the declaration. “This is the first time I’ve had the children on my own. I’d hoped Mrs. Langston would recognize that fact and leave explicit instructions.”

  Very explicit. “What a great opportunity to have time to play with them.”

  He looked at her as if she’d gone crazy. “Play with them? Do you mean like Henry does? All down on the floor and growling?”

  Oh, she could almost envision Henry giving his time to Matthew’s children, especially after she’d watched him play with Eisley’s three.

  Mary came to her father’s knee, her dark hair in unruly curls and her socks mismatched. Matthew gave her the cheese sticks almost absently. The faintest hint of a smile upturned the pout, and her dark eyes sparkled up at her dad with pure adoration. Too bad Matthew didn’t seem to notice before she ran back toward the swings.

  “There are lots of ways to play with them besides rough-housing. Simple board games? Or perhaps painting or dr
awing or playing music. I bet you could look up ideas online and try a few.”

  “What an idea!” Instead of returning to his paper, he stared out at his children, almost as if seeing them in a new light. A little encouragement, just a little, could go such a long way in this family.

  Julia glanced down at the clock on her phone and gathered up her things, turning back to Matthew. “Would you happen to know where Henry’s studio in Matlock is? I thought Rose and I could visit him before lunch.”

  “Visionary, isn’t it? On Bakewell Street.”

  “Yes.

  “I’ve never been.” Quiet came again as Matthew stared over at his children while Mary opened the cheese packet for her brother, who’d stopped his routine long enough for a snack.

  “Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

  He spun back around. “Where?”

  “To the recording studio. I’d like to see where Henry works.”

  “Why?”

  Was he truly this unaware of how to build those connections with his own brother? “Because I care about him, and I’d like to show how much I care by seeing what he does and where he works.”

  “And you think he’d like that?”

  She laughed. “From what I know of Henry, yes. I do think he’d like it.”

  Matthew’s brow puckered. “You don’t suppose he’d feel it’s intrusive?”

  “No, because he knows I want to share his world the same way he wants to share mine. It’s the way relationships work.”

  He studied her for the longest time, almost to the point of the silence growing uncomfortable, then he clapped his hands together. “Of course. Yes.” He proceeded to give extremely detailed directions, including the color of one of the new street signs at the corner where Julia should turn left.

  “Thank you, Matthew. I’m so glad we had the opportunity to meet again.”

  Matthew paused to study her again and nodded, a smile lighting his entire face so that he looked almost handsome. “Yes. Thank you for the parenting help. I can see why Henry needs you in his life. Only imagine how much more efficient he’ll be.”

  Julia couldn’t stop her laugh from erupting from its hold. Not exactly the compliment she’d expected, but from what she’d heard of Henry’s mother, an unusual compliment from a member of the Wright family was better than none at all.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  H enry’s mother behaved herself quite well for the first part of dinner. He hadn’t expected friendliness—and would have been disappointed if he had—but at least she remained civil, even though her patience waned as the evening progressed.

  Why? He wasn’t certain.

  Julia presented as she always did—kind, generous, and drawing out conversation in an easy manner yet Henry noted the exact moment some internal switch flipped inside his mother despite his girlfriend’s impeccable behavior. He’d placed himself as a barrier between his mother and Julia at the table, in the event things turned sour. Rose rested against his shoulder, her little head bobbing back and forth as she looked around. At some point, she turned toward his mother and offered one of her most adorable smiles—the sort that dimpled her chin.

  The strained lines on his mother’s face softened, and her usual lofty air relaxed into an expression so gentle that she looked ten years younger. Rose seemed to sense the shift and reached her chubby little fingers in the direction of his mother’s outstretched hand. Just as quickly, pain seared his mother’s features and she pulled her hand away as if she’d been burned then pushed away from her plate.

  “Let’s do away with these pleasantries, shall we? I know my son, and he’s easily persuaded by needy women. What is it that you really want, Miss Jenkins?”

  Henry turned from his mother to Julia.

  “I’m sorry. Excuse me?” Julia lowered her fork to the table, her gaze shifting from his mother to Henry.

  “Mother, what is wrong with you?”

  His mother placed her serviette on the table and narrowed her pale eyes at Julia, refusing to look in Henry’s direction. “What is it that you really want? Money? Security?” She gestured toward Rose without turning the baby’s way. “A father for your child.”

  “I can assure you, Mrs. Wright, that I am financially independent. And though I know Henry would make a remarkable father for Rose, that’s not why I love him.”

  “Love him.” She released a humorless laugh. “You barely know one another. What do either of you know of love?” She waved away Julia’s words. “No, what is the real reason? Because I can assure you, if you pursue this fling with him into matrimony, he’ll receive none of his inheritance from this estate.”

  “Mother, that’s enough.” Henry stood. “Julia, I think our dinner has come to an end.”

  “I don’t care about that sort of thing.” Julia rose, but placed her palms on the table, facing his mother with fire in her eyes.

  “Please, don’t minimize my intelligence by playacting such naivete. Look at this house! This property. Don’t expect me to believe you have no design on affixing yourself to him to gain a part of this.”

  “There may have been other girls in his life who refused to see the man he really is but I’m not one of them. You can keep your money and your house. I’m on ly interested in the man, so I’m not—”

  “And what of his reputation? Do you care nothing for it?”

  “I have no idea—”

  “He’s nearly ruined this family twice from want of propriety. An American single mother who has never been married will do nothing for our family’s good name. You’ll only succeed in adding to—”

  “We’re finished here.” Henry took Julia’s arm and guided her toward the door. “We’re leaving.”

  “If you truly care about him and his family, you’ll return to your country and leave him alone to maintain some sort of dignity.”

  Henry placed Rose in Julia’s arms before facing his mother full on. “If this”—he gestured toward her— “is a picture of my inheritance and the cost of my reputation’s salvation then I don’t want it. Any of it. When you’re ready to apologize to Julia and accept her presence in my life, I will be happy to speak with you. But until then, we have nothing more to discuss.”

  Henry placed his hand on Julia’s lower back and escorted her from the dining room and toward the front of the house, indicating to the butler to have the car brought around.

  “Has she been like that your whole life?” Julia’s breathless question slowed his pace.

  “She became worse after father died.” He tucked his arm around her waist but kept his eyes forward, refusing to allow his frustration at his mother to surface more than it already had. “I’m so sorry you bore the brunt of her anger. I’d hoped for better. We’ll keep our distance from her in the future.”

  “But she’s your mother, Henry. You can’t stop seeing your mother.”

  He paused at the front of the house, waiting for the car. His family’s three-story brick colonial, two centuries old, rose behind them. His past. Not his future. “We have nothing to discuss if she plans to behave in such an unforgivable way.”

  “I…I can’t understand this. I mean, to make such blatant accusations? Unfounded charges?”

  “You understand better now why I’ve found myself at home with the Harrison family more than my own, and why I wish for a very different start to ours.”

  Julia looked over her shoulder. “But something…something felt so wrong about what happened back there, Henry. I could almost feel your mother’s pain. She’s so…so broken.”

  The car came into view from the garage. “There were many things wrong with it.”

  “She…she looked so hurt, at one point. Lonely, even. She lashed out like some wounded, desperate animal.”

  Air left Henry’s lungs and he turned Julia toward him, hands on her shoulders. “You’re looking for ways to understand her when her behavior was inexcusable and accusatory?”

  “People always have reasons for act
ing the way they do. Something in her is wounded and lost.”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her. “I love you.”

  She looked up at him, her expression pleading, sorrowful. “I never want to be the reason you don’t see your mother.”

  He shook his head, running his fingers through her hair. “Give her time. She won’t stay angry for long. I’m the son she calls when she needs something.” He squeezed Julia’s free hand. “She’s a difficult woman but if anyone can touch her heart, it’s you.”

  “But what if…your inheritance…and her—”

  He placed a finger to her lips. “I choose you. There’s no question. Her inheritance threat means nothing to me. I’m self-sufficient and have been for years, though she’s failed to take note. She needs to feel powerful and in control, so she uses money as a threat. It works with Elliott, but not me.” His lips relaxed into a smile. “No, Julia, I choose you and Rose as my family. If Mother wants to come along, then so be it, but she’ll not dictate my heart.”

  The car stopped in front of them and he guided her down the stairs to the passenger side. “Now, we certainly need something to take our minds off this evening. What about a surprise?”

  “A surprise?” Julia looked up from fastening Rose into the car seat.

  Henry drew in a deep breath. He’d never done anything as spontaneous as buying a house for a woman he’d only known a few months, but nothing had ever felt so right. And he’d never met anyone like Julia before. “Tomorrow is our last full day together for a while, so I’d like to end well.” He paused and opened the car door for her, drawing in a breath and sending a quick prayer heavenward. “What if I collect you for lunch tomorrow after church, then take you to see my home.”

  Julia straightened and turned, staring at him. “Your…your home?” She gestured toward Wright Hall. “But I thought you lived here.”

  He couldn’t stop his grin. “Not anymore.” And after this evening, he was even happier to speak those words. “New job, new future.” He touched her cheek. “New home. I have no intention of going back to where I was before you. Only forward. With you.”