∞ ∞ ∞
Julia, for once, couldn’t blame her sleeplessness on Rose. She couldn’t get Henry’s family from her mind, especially his mother. Yes, she’d said hurtful things, but something about her manner broke Julia’s heart, like a drowning victim fighting against the person trying to save them.
After all the activities of the past week, Julia’s emotions frayed at the seams. She almost fell asleep during the church service, but not because it was uninteresting. In fact, the quaint congregation, with its mixed worship service and ready smiles, welcomed her and Rose with the warmth of genuine faith. Some of the hymns sounded a little different than the ones she’d grown up singing, but she knew the praise songs, and from her vantage point in the pew, she could see Henry playing his violin with the small orchestra.
Matthew sat in the far corner, his expression pensive, but Julia didn’t see either of the other Wright family members. She closed her eyes and prayed for Henry’s family. For the wounds so evident in their brokenness. For the loneliness. And for God to bring people into their lives to inspire healing of those shattered relationships.
When Henry sat next to her before the sermon began and relaxed his arm over the back of the pew behind her, claiming his spot for his whole church to see, another surge of belonging settled over her with the warmth of the cresting sun in Grieg’s Morning Mood.
Though he kept his focus on the preacher, that boyish grin slid into place and she knew—he felt it too. The rightness. Their little family.
After surviving the swarm of well-wishers wanting to meet Henry’s girlfriend following the service, then sharing a quiet lunch at a pub in town, Henry drove them a short distance away from Matlock. Riber Castle still stood sentry in the distance when the car turned off the main road and proceeded up a knoll where two stone pillars welcomed them into a tree-lined lane.
They continued up the lane until a roof came into view above the trees and…she saw it. Julia peered out the passenger window, tilting her neck to see a sharp-pitched roof rising above the trees.
This was Henry’s house?
She’d expected some small stone cottage or a little white house.
But this? A three-story structure of limestone and windows and a double-doored entry?
Yet despite its size, the surrounding trees and the ivy climbing the walls gave it a cottage-feel. “This…this is your home?”
He nodded and pulled the car to a stop at the front doors. “Do you like it?”
She exited the car with slow steps, her gaze trailing every inch of the house as if Henry had pulled it straight from one of her daydreams. So many windows! She shuffled forward and then turned to glance behind her for Henry, and her breath caught at the view. Green hills rolled into the distance until they met a smattering of rooftops that marked the edge of Matlock with the distant hills beyond.
She stared at Henry across the top of the car, pulling her bottom lip up and into a smile. “It’s amazing.”
His eyes lit, and he pinched his grin into place as if he could barely contain his joy. “Let’s take a look inside, shall we?”
She nodded, fairly giddy, and took Rose from the back seat. “It’s so big, Henry.”
“It is. Much more than a bachelor needs, so perhaps I should change that status.” He wiggled a brow and led her to the ornate oak front doors.
Julia immediately envisioned Christmas wreathes on display. She grinned over at him and took his hand as he led her through the front doors into an airy room filled with sunlight. Stairs rose in front of them and a smaller room opened to the right. A library?
“And I haven’t the furniture to fill it, so the front room may seem a little bare. That’s where I could use advice, you understand.”
They stepped into the large, front space. Everything about the room welcomed her forward, from the hardwood floors to the chair-rail molding to the stone fireplace with floor-to-ceiling windows on either side that nearly filled an entire wall. All it needed was a touch up or two of paint. Some cozy chairs. A rug here. A wall-hanging there. The room opened through double French doors into another sizeable space with a brick fireplace. The same floor-to-ceiling-windows occupied two walls in this room, facing more to the east.
Her breath stalled. A breakfast room. She could almost see the tables dotting the shiny floor, each decorated with fresh flowers and ready to invite someone to share a cup of tea. Henry continued the tour from one room to the next. A sitting room. The large library with built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves just waiting for their volumes.
On they went, each new discovery almost like a glimpse into a magical land of dreams and wishes. Downstairs boasted two large bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms and doors that led out into a walled garden. Upstairs were four more large bedrooms with the same welcoming windows, and Henry hinted at two more rooms on the top-most level of the house, along with some storage space. Julia’s imagination burst with possibilities.
It was as if someone had reached inside her heart and tugged out all the little dreams she’d envisioned for her own bed and breakfast. The thought latched and held. Her footsteps faltered as she followed Henry to the back of the downstairs into an enormous kitchen.
“And I knew you’d like this spot. All newly renovated.”
She placed her hand on the doorframe and took in the white cabinets and stainless-steel appliances. And industrial-sized refrigerator. Double ovens. Massive stovetop. Sunlight drew her attention to the right where a door opened into a glassed-in walkway.
“That leads to a detached apartment. Where I keep house, at the moment. It’s perfect for privacy from the main house. Three bedrooms, a small office, and a cozy living area.” He gestured toward the walkway.
She looked over at him and pieced everything together. He’d bought this house…for her. He planned for her to join him in England. Her fingers tightened on the doorframe and her stomach roiled. “Henry, I…I can’t move to England.”
He stared at her, suspended in a smile, and his expression slowly melted.
“I love your house. It’s beautiful and perfect in so many ways.” Her throat closed with emotion. “And…if I gave you the impression that I wanted to move here…” She waved around her then searched his face, begging him to understand. “England is lovely, and you are…” She couldn’t get the words out and pressed her palm to her chest. “I want to be with you, please know that, but I…I have my family and my home.”
Though home—as well as her plans and future—was sort of in limbo.
His eyes searched hers, unreadable—which frightened her, because she’d grown to know him so well.
“I…I’m sorry, Henry. I’m just not ready for something like that.”
He looked down and closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall. “It’s my fault.” He shook his head. “I made assumptions and allowed my hopes to run wild. It was clumsy of me. With the new job and the opportunities I have here, I thought…I…we—”
“You have great opportunities here, and I’m so excited for you. It’s your dream job and this house—” She gave the kitchen another appreciative glance. “It’s exactly what I would wish for if I could choose.”
“I moved too quickly. Too thoughtlessly.”
“Please.” She stepped forward, touching his arm and bringing his gaze back to hers. “I made assumptions too, you know? I thought for sure you’d come back to Pleasant Gap with me.”
His expression bowed beneath his disappointment and nearly broke her heart when he placed his palm over Rose’s head at her shoulder. “Visionary will consider a distant position, but not for at least two years.”
“Two years?”
“Perhaps even three.”
She closed her eyes, her heart at war. A gnawing clawed against this conversation, against the certain distance they’d experience for much longer than three months. She pressed a palm to her stomach. “Do you think we’re reading this all wrong? Have we been moving too fast if these red flags are showing up now?�
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“Do you truly doubt us?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.” He sighed, his brow pinched. “Sometimes circumstances happen because the world is a broken place or…because God is shaping us, as clay, and we must move and be reshaped with his guidance. Not every problem is an indicator of wrong choice, Julia.”
“But two years? Maybe three? What will we do with that?”
He opened his mouth to answer but nothing emerged. An agonizing second passed, then, as if he’d set his mind on his answer, he touched her cheek. “We wait. It’s not going to be easy, especially when I feel as though a part of me is absent when we’re separated, but I would rather have your heart, even at a distance, than not have your heart all.”
She’d wounded him. The creases of pain were etched at the edges of his eyes and the downturned corners of his mouth. And still, her chest battled with some unnamed collision of choices, of desires.
“Do you think you can wait with me?”
She searched his face, her emotions and her heart grasping for another answer. Three years? But when she looked at him, she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. How could any future man match the gentleness and love of Henry Wright for her and Rose? The words clogged her throat, snagging her breath. She couldn’t give him what he truly wanted, could she? Leave everything? Enter the world of Matlock and his mother’s hostility? Move away from her family, her support network?
Yet, Henry would be here. Waiting. Loving. Tears blurred his face from view. “Of course I’ll wait with you.”
“Then, dove, we’ll wait.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Julia pressed her face into her hands and stared out the window of the Harrison’s home into a moonless night. She should be nestled in that ginormous bed to prepare for a long day of flying, but questions wrestled within her, stealing sleep, twisting up her stomach in a nauseous tangle. She leaned her head against the window sill, tugging a pillow from the window seat and pressing it into her chest.
Why this way, Lord?
A deep quiet answered her, bringing more unrest than calm. She was going home. That was the right choice.
Then why did leaving this way feel so wrong? She squeezed the pillow close. The alternative flittered through her thoughts like an escaped bird. What if she moved to England?
She shook her head and pressed her face into the pillow. No, that couldn’t be the answer. There is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out fear. The verse breathed through her, but instead of calming the worries, it ignited her defenses.
No, Lord. That request is too big. Too hard. I…I can’t.
“I was up and saw your light.”
Julia turned toward the whisper in the doorway. Cate peeked in.
“Is everything all right?”
Julia sighed and swiped her fingers beneath her eyes to remove any residual tears. “Henry bought me a house.”
Cate stumbled forward, her long dark hair loose from its usual ponytail. “He did what?”
“I know. And it’s perfect, except for one thing.” She ran a hand through her hair and leaned her head back against the window frame again. “It’s just outside of Matlock.”
Cate lowered to sit on the edge of the bed, her palm in the air. “Wait, I’m still stuck on the idea that Henry bought you a house.” She blinked. “Henry Wright?”
“The very one.”
Cate started chuckling then caught her laugh in her hand. “I have to say that feels a bit out of character for him. Were you in need of a house?”
“Actually, yes, but I hadn’t planned on it being thousands of miles away from Pleasant Gap. A place for a bed-and-breakfast one day.”
“Oh, those do really well here. And Matlock is a lovely tourist town.”
“So I’ve heard.” But Cate’s enthusiasm wasn’t helping the knot in Julia’s stomach.
“But that’s Henry for you, isn’t it? When he cares, he cares big. All in. Extravagant, some would say.” Cate chuckled again. “Almost reckless, if you think about it. Poor man. He must really like you. Buying a house without consulting you.”
“I hurt him, you know? I mean, he just expected me to move to England.”
“And that’s not what you want?”
“I want to be with Henry, but moving to England?” Julia pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. Why did everyone assume she’d want this. “It’s too radical. Too much.” She waved toward the crib. “I have Rose to think about.”
“Babies are incredibly adaptable, you know. Much more than adults.”
“You’re not helping, Cate.”
“I can’t deny that I’d enjoy having you nearby, Julia. I’m surrounded by Wes and his friends on every side. Having a woman in the mix would even up the conversations a bit.”
“I’ll video-chat with you.”
Cate shook her head. “Not the same.” Her brow rose in challenge. “Is it?”
No, not at all. Spending the past week with Henry doubled the distance going home brought. “This isn’t home.”
“Ah.” Cate rocked back, hands on the knees of her red pajama pants. “I’ve always heard that home is where the heart is. So I suppose the question you must ask is, where is your heart?”
Julia scowled at her new friend. “I think you need to go back to bed.”
Cate caught her laugh again and stood, slipping toward the door. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Good night, Cate,” Julia reiterated, shooting a mock-glare in her direction.
“Good night, Julia.”
The door snipped closed and Julia returned her attention to the star-studded view out the window. Dear Lord, please help Henry find a way to move to America. Her heart pulsed against the prayer. What about his wonderful job? The part he played in taking care of his mother? His house? Her throat tightened, and tears burned her eyes, but the prayer she should pray refused a voice. What was she so afraid of?
She didn’t have an answer.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Dr. Porter is available to see you now, Ms. Jenkins.”
“Ms. Jenkins.”
Julia sat up in the chair, coming full-awake, and gave her head a little shake to orient herself. National Archives. London. And an archivist with a tendency toward tardiness, evidently. An hour tardy, as a matter of fact.
Well, at least she’d gotten in a little nap before the flight home.
The receptionist raised a brow, her face otherwise expressionless. “Dr. Porter is available to see you now.”
Julia stood, placing a protective palm on Rose’s back in the wrap at Julia’s chest. “Thank you.”
She followed the receptionist down a hallway with offices on either side and stopped in front of one of the last offices on the left.
A small man with Einstein-like white hair stood with a flourish from behind a paper-covered desk. “Ah, Ms. Jenkins. Do forgive my tardiness, if you will.” He gestured toward a chair. “I arrived from my research in Cairo yesterday afternoon to a great many unfinished things and am still behind. I appreciate your patience.”
He had kind eyes, and Rose had been exceptionally well behaved, so Julia immediately forgave him.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Porter, I don’t have a lot time. My flight back home leaves a little before three, and I want to make sure I have plenty of time to get through the airport, especially with a little one.” She patted the sling that held Rose.
Dr. Porter’s bushy eyebrows shook with his widening eyes. “Oh yes. Of course.” He paused, seemingly lost in his stare at a sleeping Rose, then blinked back to the present. “Yes. Well, you’ve brought sufficient documentation to prove you have legal right to receive any information we have related to Amelia Rippey?”
“Yes.” Julia reached into her bag and withdrew the folder she’d prepared. “All the documentation you requested should be inside.”
He flipped through the papers, leaning close and holding the corner of his glasses to carefully examine
them. Each one. Rose stirred slightly, and Julia prayed her little girl stayed content a little longer.
“Good. Good.” He nodded, placing the pages back in the folder. “Everything seems to be in order.” His eyes lit with his smile. “Finally, we can settle accounts for the famous Amelia Rippey.”
“Famous? You mean Aunt Millie as a pianist?”
“Aunt Millie? There is no Aunt Millie here.” He raised a finger and turned in his chair to retrieve a cardboard box from a shelf behind him, his eyes almost glowing. “Only Amelia Rippey, aka Evelyn, the Night Bird.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your aunt is known among military historians and archivists because of her excellent skills and ingenuity. She was a smart woman. The historians before me even spoke of her—behind closed doors, you understand.” He nodded. “Do you know her story?”
Julia couldn’t help but smile at the man—a much-needed smile after the events of the day before. “I only know a little.”
He rocked back in his chair, his grin growing. “Ah, well, it’s my job to know, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “I researched her before I left for Cairo in preparation for your arrival and am delighted to bring her story to light for you.” He patted the box. “Your aunt fell into the spy world quite unexpectedly, especially since America hadn’t yet joined the war.”
Her gaze dropped to the box in his hands. Were there more letters in the box? Photos of Aunt Millie as Evelyn, the Night Bird?
“Lucas Randolph had been in espionage for only a few months when British Intelligence paired him with her on the stage, as a cover. You see, music traveled more freely where little else could.” He tapped the box again. “Amelia was not too keen to become involved at first, reticent for change and all that, but after learning of the atrocities of the war, she realized the benefit—the long-term goal—was worth the risk. She became a force to be reckoned with. I’d even venture an estimation that she became a better spy than her husband.” Dr. Porter leaned across the desk, his eyes taking on an intense glimmer. “In fact, had it not been for your aunt, Ms. Jenkins, the musical code wouldn’t have been created. She was the mastermind behind it.”
When You Look at Me (A Pleasant Gap Romance Book 2) Page 34