“Why don’t you keep it?”
“Me? Oh, no I couldn’t. I’m sure you’d earn quite a bit from the sale of it.”
“Money isn’t everything.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re trying to help me and I’d like to be able to do something in return. It would make me feel better.”
Michael had said something similar about money. Had the archangel known this conversation was coming? Sometimes she was sure he knew more than he let on.
She stared at the dollhouse once again, hesitating. “It is adorable and I always wanted one. My parents didn’t believe in frivolous toys.”
“So, you should have it.” He reached out and gently moved one of the little doors, a sad smile passing over his lips. “I have no family to leave it to and I think my mom would have liked you.”
“Well, thank you.” Her mind raced. Was she allowed to accept gifts from a client? And what would happen to the dollhouse after the assignment was done? She’d have to consult the GA handbook. She was sure she’d read a rule in there about situations like this.
“You know what? I have some furniture I made that would fit in here.”
“Um...I think your stuff is a bit too big.”
He chuckled. “No. In my spare time, I make kids’ toys. It’s just a hobby. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Ben led the way to the house and she followed intrigued about this new side to the gruff man.
Ben pushed open the backdoor and walked through the kitchen, his step momentarily slowing. The disaster before him had him wincing. He hadn’t cared about the state of the house for quite some time now. Life had been overwhelming for so long that he’d grown tired of fighting, tired of trying to pull himself up just to get kicked down before he’d regained his footing. With Eugenie in the room though, he was looking at the space with more critical eyes and wondering what she was thinking. Women were fussy about houses and even he knew the dirty dishes in the sink were gross.
“I keep meaning to clean the place up. Dad was never much of a housekeeper and when I moved in here after my divorce, well...”
“Things got out of hand.”
“Yeah.” He liked that she didn’t criticize even though there were plenty of things she could have commented on.
As he made his way down the hall to the backroom where he did his carving, he began to question his decision to show her his work. His ex-wife had scoffed at his efforts, claiming he’d never make any money wasting his time on things like that. All she’d wanted was for him to work and bring home a pay cheque that she could spend. Their relationship had been a fire that had burned hot and bright only to be reduced to ashes within a short time.
Eugenie was different, he reminded himself. He was comfortable around her in a way he’d never been with Sabrina. Maybe that was why he was willing to share his hobby with her.
“I work in this spare bedroom.” He flicked on the lights and then stepped aside so she could enter. There was a table in the centre of the room with his current projects and various tools. Along the walls were shelves displaying his finished pieces. Bowls, the wood polished to a high shine. Tiny beds, tables and chairs suitable for a dollhouse, trucks and cars, simple yet sturdy toys for a child to play with. And then there were the miniature animals and birds; he tried to make each one unique, spending hours refining the details that would add a lifelike quality to each piece.
“These are great!” Eugenie’s eyes lit up as she examined the items on the shelves. “Any child would love to play with them.”
“I like kids,” he confessed, watching her reaction to his words.
“Me, too.” Eugenie turned each piece over in her hands. Her appreciation of the work was evident in the way she tested the wheels, or carefully worked the delicate hinges.
“I started working on these years ago. Growing up with just my dad and me, I’d always planned on a big family but...” His voice trailed off at that painful thought. Sabrina hadn’t wanted kids. Had in fact been happy when they hadn’t conceived. He’d wasted so many years trying to make her happy. Suddenly the room felt too stuffy, as if the very thought of her was squeezing the life out of him. “I have to go.”
Abruptly, he turned and left the room, only vaguely aware of Eugenie staring after him in surprise.
He walked out of the house and stood in the middle of the yard. The bleakness of November surrounded him; barren trees, no birds singing. The tall wild grasses and flowers that grew along the roadside were dead and brown, rustling sadly in the cold wind. Even the sun that had shone brightly earlier in the day was gone, hidden behind the dark grey clouds that heralded a change in the weather. It matched the feeling inside him.
He took a deep breath and glanced back at the house. Eugenie must think he was crazy running out like that but...he shook his head. He couldn’t go back in that room right now. Those toys represented dreams that had never come true. Never would, either. He'd not trust his heart to another woman. Instead he whistled for Chip and set off for a brisk walk down the lane that twisted its way behind his house and led into the small wooded area on the edge of the property.
Chapter 6
Eugenie peered out the window, watching Ben head off to who knows where. At least he had the dog with him for company and hopefully he’d stay away from that rickety bridge. And, if anything should happen to him again, she was confident Chip would come and get her. However, she was worried about more than just his physical well-being. She sensed a loneliness inside him, a deep hurt.
She placed the small train she’d been looking at back on the shelf. Being in his private room while he was away didn’t seem right so she turned off the light and closed the door, though not before she’d noticed something large in the corner draped with a cloth. Her curiosity was piqued by the shrouded object and she took a step closer before deciding against uncovering it. If Ben had wanted her to see whatever was under the cloth, he’d have shown it to her.
Feeling awkward in the house by herself, she intended to go back to work in the barn but slowed as she passed through the kitchen. It really was desperately in need of cleaning. She was surprised Ben didn’t get sick with food poisoning.
Despite the fact she’d done no real cleaning in her earthly life, she couldn’t resist tackling the dishes. Plus, it was the one job she felt confident doing. A grimace passed over her face as she drained the cold, greasy water. Hot water and the liberal use of dish soap would deal with the problem though.
She washed the plates, bowls and cups, then scoured the collection of pans. When she came upon a shot glass, she paused. Ben had been drinking that first day but since then he’d been sober, or at least only imbibing lightly. That was a positive change. When she dried the dishes and put them away, she made sure to tuck the shot glass towards the back; out of sight, out of mind.
Once the dishes were done she decided to wipe down the counters. Unfortunately, the stove was still dirty, the floor needed mopping and the curtains were laden with dust, not to mention you could barely see out the windows. There was no way she’d have time to get everything done unless...
Zeke had explained she likely had powers she hadn’t discovered yet. Maybe this was the time to start exploring them. The trick was to coordinate thought and gesture, or so Zeke had told her. She decided to start with cleaning the floor. Hand out, palm down, she furrowed her brow imagining water covering the floor, a mop swishing it about to lift the grime. Before her eyes a sheen of water did appear on the floor but...bloody hell...too much!
“No! Stop! Enough!” She felt like the inept sorcerer’s apprentice in the poem by Goethe, shouting instructions.
By the time she’d regained control, the floor was clean but her shoes were wet and squished with each step. Grumbling, she sat down and removed them, placing them near the furnace vent to dry. Well, at least she had a clean floor to walk on now.
Using a chair, she took down the curtains next and placed them in the sink; the washing machine looked far too complicated f
or her to try. She flicked her wrist and thought about soap and sure enough some appeared in the sink. Was it enough though? The curtains were really quite filthy. Maybe just a tad more. When a nice puddle of soap was in the sink, she turned on the taps and watched with a pleased smile as bubbles began to appear. Satisfied, she left the curtains sloshing about in the water and turned to the stove.
Removing the grease from it proved to be a snap, a scrubber zipping over the surface at blinding speed. She gave a nod of approval and glanced back to see how the curtains were doing only to give a cry of horror. Soap bubbles were spilling over the edge of the sink and dripping down the cupboard doors.
At least she didn’t panic this time and managed to handle the situation without too many more mishaps. She did decide, however, to avoid using her powers on anything that involved water and used good old-fashioned elbow grease to clean the windows while the curtains dripped dry on a rack in the laundry room.
With the kitchen finally cleaned, she looked in the fridge. It appeared Ben had purchased groceries recently. It would be nice for him to come home to a hot meal except, of course, she had no idea how to cook.
“Zeke?” She called out his name and before she could blink he appeared beside her.
“What’s up, Babe? Michael’s given me a really important assignment so I can’t spare a lot of time.”
“I need to cook a meal and I haven’t the faintest idea how to go about it.
“Let’s see what we’ve got, shall we?” He started opening cabinets and peered into the refrigerator. “Okay, how long do we have?”
“I’ve no idea. Ben stomped out with his dog. Something I said really upset him.”
“Okay. Well, you’ve got the ingredients for pasta and Bolognese sauce which, by the way, is my favourite so I’m going to show you how to make it and then one day you can invite me over for dinner.”
Zeke surprised her by giving her very easy to follow instructions, allowing her to do the cooking while he supervised. It wasn’t long before the sauce was gently simmering and the pasta draining.
“Now all you need is a small side salad and you’re all set.” He removed some vegetables from the fridge and showed her how to wash and cut them. “I don’t see any dressing but there’s the olive oil we used earlier. Leave it on the table and he can help himself if he wants some.”
“Thank you, Zeke!” Eugenie threw her arms around her colleague and hugged him, only to back away feeling embarrassed. She’d never done anything like that before. Was this easy feeling she had around Zeke what she had witnessed between Annie and her brother all those years ago?
Zeke didn’t appear to notice her awkwardness. In fact, he went a little pink but grinned at her. “Have fun with your man.”
“Oh, but he’s not my...” But Zeke had already left and she was alone in the kitchen.
The meal prepared, she surveyed her afternoon’s work. Dinner was simmering on the stove, the table was set for one, the kitchen was clean and tidy. She gave a satisfied smile and was preparing to leave when she heard the backdoor opening.
“Whoa! What happened in here?” Ben pushed the door shut, blocking the cool breeze that had followed him inside through the utility room. His cheeks were reddened from the cold, his hair wind-swept. Chip had come in with him and immediately made his way to a bowl of dog food that stood in the corner.
“I...I hope you don’t mind.” She watched his eyes sweep over the kitchen and began to feel nervous. Had she overstepped herself? “I know it was presumptuous of me. I’d only intended to do the dishes but then one thing led to another and...” She ended with a shrug.
“No. I don’t mind.” He turned in a slow circle. “I don’t mind at all. I haven’t seen the kitchen look this good since, well, I guess back when I was a kid.”
“I made you dinner, too. I figured you’d be tired and hungry by the time you got home.”
He walked over to the stove, lifted the lid and gave an experimental sniff. “This smells great.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” She walked towards the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to continue working in the barn.”
“Where are you going? Since you’ve gone to the trouble of making dinner, you should at least stay and have some.”
“I made it for you. I—”
“Nonsense.” He placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her away from the door. “I’ll go wash up. Set yourself a place at the table. No arguing.” He raised a brow at her and she found herself conceding.
The meal was delicious, even if she did say so herself. Casual conversation flowed between them. She spoke of her life growing up in England, trying to keep her comments general enough that the passage of nearly a century wouldn’t be noticed. It was interesting that they’d both been only children. His father, however, had always been warm and caring.
“Yeah, even after my mom died, Dad always tried his best to make sure I had a good home life. He made cookies for school bake sales, helped me create Halloween costumes. And every year we’d go and get a Christmas tree together.”
“It sounds like you have some great memories.”
Ben nodded and then pushed his chair back. “That was a great meal. Thanks. I’ll gather up the plates while you relax.”
“No. No need. I’m here to help.”
“Help clear out the barn,” he reminded her. “Not act as my maid.”
“How about we do them together then?” She picked up her plate and walked to the sink without waiting for his answer.
They stood side by side at the sink. Ben washed while she rinsed. He towered over her but his height didn’t make her feel her lack of inches. Funny how she’d never liked being short and often felt intimidated around tall people. But with Ben she felt safe, protected, even though she had to tip her head back to look at him.
Occasionally, their arms brushed, fingers touching as they passed the dishes. It made her feel warm inside. Different, confused and yet, wishing the contact could be repeated. She found herself working slower, trying to drag the chore out but eventually the dishes were done and she could delay no longer.
“I need to be heading home.” She folded the dish towel and hung it up.
“It’s dark outside.” Ben pointed out. “You can’t walk to the bus stop in the dark.”
“I’ll be fine.” Her plan was that as soon as she was outside and out of sight from the house, she’d dematerialize and pop back to her apartment. He didn’t know that, of course.
“Nonsense. I’m driving you home. A man doesn’t let a woman walk in the dark by herself. I’ll just grab my keys.”
In no time at all she was in Ben’s truck and he was driving her home. It was a cool night, her breath showing like little puffs of white mist as she breathed. He flicked on the heater and she relaxed in the seat as the warm air flowed over her.
Looking out the window, she could see the stars twinkling in the night sky as the moon shone brightly. Frost made the tree branches glisten, and in the fields she could see the shadowy shapes of deer emerging from the woods to feed on the bits of grain left behind after the harvest.
All too soon they arrived at her apartment. Ben turned off the engine and silence filled the small space.
She cleared her throat. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.” He was watching her, his eyes skimming over her features.
She felt her heartbeat quicken, the atmosphere between them growing thick. Unsure of what was coming, she fumbled with her seatbelt but it didn’t seem to want to release.
“Let me.” Ben leaned closer, easily releasing the mechanism.
He was so close she could make out the stubble on his chin in the dim light of the dashboard dials, see the curve of his mouth, the long lashes that surrounded his green eyes. And then he was leaning closer. His mouth brushed over hers once, twice and then he moved away. His hand reached up and skimmed over her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Thanks again, Eugenie. I enjoyed the dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” Her voice came out breathily as if she’d been running and it did indeed feel that way. His kiss had set her heart pounding. Reluctantly, she opened the door.
“I’ll wait until you’re inside. Be sure to lock up.”
“I will.”
She hurried from the truck and raced up the stairs, turning when she reached the top. He was still watching her. It made her feel incredibly cared for, even cherished. With a quick wave, she unlocked the door and stepped into her apartment. Leaning against the wall, she pressed her hands to her warm face. She’d never known a GA assignment could be like this!
Ben watched as Eugenie shut her door and a light went on inside her apartment. Once he was sure she was safely inside, he started the engine and headed home.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he considered the fact that he’d kissed her. Why had he done that? He’d not planned on it and yet it had suddenly seemed the right thing to do. Her scent had wrapped around him, the warmth of her breath skimming over his face.
That brief taste of her had been exquisite and he’d had to force himself not to deepen the kiss. He sensed her inexperience. There was something about her that seemed pure and innocent. She wasn’t the kind you messed around with casually. And there was the crux of the problem. He had no intention of having a serious relationship with anyone. That being the case, he’d best keep his distance from young Eugenie Winslow. Yep, no more companionable dinners, no more moonlight rides. It was the right thing to do.
Too bad the right thing seemed to suck.
Chapter 7
Eugenie brushed the curtains aside and watched Ben drive away. He’d kissed her. She still couldn’t believe it. It had been...well...she wasn’t sure how to describe it. The delicious tingle that had shot through her when their lips had touched, the heat of his body so close to hers. His hand as it had brushed her cheek had been work-roughened, stimulating her nerve endings, making her overly aware of his presence. And his eyes, staring into hers, she could easily have become lost in their deep forest green.
Untried Heart Page 7