by Beth Ziarnik
Go away? Absolutely not. She had to get inside to see her father. “But my father invited me for the Christmas holidays.”
The woman peered at Jill’s suitcase resting on the porch. “Young woman, my son-in-law has told me nothing of the sort. Now go away, and do not disturb us further.”
“Wait! Please, how ill is he? At least tell me if he will get well.”
The door closed with a resounding thud.
Jill jumped back and stared in disbelief. She spun toward the snow falling beyond the arches of the porch. “Lord, please help me.” Surely there was a way to convince these people she had been invited. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of one.
Her breath fogged in the frigid air as she imagined dragging her luggage through the deepening snow—a clumsy endeavor at best. Not to mention she would have to find a hotel with a vacancy where she could regroup. But even if she did, she would need help if she were to see her father.
Clay. If his plane had been grounded, he might already be returning to her. But whether or not, one thing was sure. She couldn’t ignore this odd sense of urgency. Somehow, she had to see her father before it was too late.
She fished her phone from her purse.
“Hi, beauty.” The warmth in Clay’s voice enveloped her right to her toes. “How’s it going?”
“I called to see how you’re doing.” Oh, please, Lord.
“It’ll be close, but so far the weather’s holding, and traffic isn’t bad. I think I’ll make it.” He paused, probably to negotiate traffic. It was long enough for her to come to her senses.
What was she thinking? If he had any chance of making that flight, she shouldn’t give him a reason to cancel.
“Have you seen your father?”
“Uh, not yet. Clay, I have to go. Have a safe trip. I’ll see you when you get back.” She forced as much cheer into her voice as she could manage. He didn’t need to know she’d run into a little glitch.
Okay, a big glitch.
“Jill,” he said, his voice suddenly subdued, “is something wrong?”
She flinched. Had he picked up some telltale sign of distress in her voice? “I’m fine.”
“If something does go wrong, remember the extra set of keys I gave you. I’ll lock the parking slip in the glove compartment and call you later with the truck’s location in the parking ramp at the airport.” He paused for a long moment. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s not too late. I can turn back.”
“I’m fine, and I have the keys.” She jingled them. “And don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your old truck.”
“Hey. No disparaging remarks about this stellar vehicle.” She could hear the humor in his teasing retort.
“I would never.” And realizing how much its sentimental value alone meant to him, she wouldn’t. “Let me know when you arrive safely in Haiti, okay?”
Another long moment passed before he said, “Enjoy your visit with your dad. I’m praying for you.”
“I’m praying for you too,” she said softly.
“Thanks.” His whispered word warmed her heart as she ended the call.
Well, she could cross that possibility off the list. What now, Lord?
She stomped her feet against the cold seeping through her winter footwear. She could call a cab, but in this weather, who knew how long before that ride would arrive? Besides, she needed a destination. Flicking her fingers over her phone, she began searching for a hotel vacancy.
“Jill?”
The urgent whisper pulled her attention to the right. A woman at the bottom of the porch steps clutched a red wool coat around her. Snowflakes nestled in her short brown hair.
Jill stared at her. “Who—”
“Bring your things and follow me. Hurry. It’s cold out here.” The woman disappeared around the corner of the house.
Jill grabbed her luggage and caught up with the woman on the far side of the house.
The woman shivered. “I’m Alice. The one who sent you the invitation.”
Her father hadn’t sent it? No wonder the women at the front door shut her out.
“Here, let me have that.” Alice reached for Jill’s suitcase. “I heard Dora. She likes to run things around here, but your father should see you if he wants to, right?”
“Does he?”
“Of course, or I wouldn’t have sent for you.”
“Does he know I’m here?”
“He will as soon as I tell him.” Alice tipped her head and regarded Jill with soft brown eyes. “You do want to see him, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but …” Jill frowned and glanced up at the house windows glowering down at her. “Won’t you get into trouble?”
Alice laughed, a silvery sound. “Heavens no. I only did what John wanted. Besides, I’m not just his nurse. When I was a child, he was my guardian.” Her brown eyes twinkled. “Come on. We don’t have a moment to lose. Hurry before Dora or that housekeeper of hers discover what we’re up to.”
Jill hesitated. Is this your answer to my prayer, Lord?
Go! The word sounded in her heart with such force that she surged forward. Passing a side door and hurrying into the backyard, she slipped and slid through inches of snow, doing her best to keep up with the woman leading the way.
Alice opened a back entrance under a metal overhang and led her up a narrow flight of enclosed stairs. They passed a kitchen and stopped before a cage-like elevator with ornate metal bars defining its cramped space.
“A good thing this old contraption doesn’t service the main part of the house.” Alice stood aside while Jill entered. Then the thirty-something woman joined her, closed a hinged gate, and pressed a button.
Jill’s heart thumped in her chest as the noisy conveyance lurched upward. She steadied herself with the nearest metal bars, expecting at any moment to be discovered. Would they make it to her father?
The elevator stopped at the second floor in a short utility hall. The yellow passageway must be a servants’ domain. Turning to the right, Alice led her to the first door on the left where she pushed Jill’s suitcase into a bare, closet-sized room.
“Give me your coat too. We’ll leave both of ours in here for now,” she said, shedding her own. “Later, while you visit with John, I’ll put your things in your room.”
“My room?” Alice expected her to stay?
“Of course,” she said. “I prepared a room for you, and one for your young man as well. Though I see he didn’t make it.”
“Clay was called away on a last-minute business matter.” Offering details seemed pointless. She wouldn’t stay long enough for it to matter. “About the room … please don’t go to any trouble. After I see my father, I’ll leave.”
“We’ll see about that.” Alice grinned at her. “Let’s get you to your father.” With brisk steps, her champion turned in the opposite direction. At the other end of the hall, she opened a heavy, arched door set with a brightly colored, stained-glass window.
Jill had only moments to take in its beauty before they emerged into a high-ceilinged area thickly carpeted in silvery green. Five other doors were spaced along the walls. All closed.
She flicked a nervous glance to her right where a grand staircase descended from the third floor, its oak banisters draped with fresh pine garlands and lacy gold ribbon in fanciful bows. Descending to the first floor, the stairwell curled around a tall Christmas tree. The star at its tip seemed to wink at her.
Alice touched her arm. “Don’t worry. No one comes up here at this hour.” With an encouraging smile, she opened a door opposite the stairwell and beckoned to Jill.
Struggling to breathe, Jill stilled like a rabbit staring up the muzzle of a gun. Her heart hammered as she stepped through the doorway into the dimness beyond. What kind of man was John Taylor? What would he think of her? Was he even well enough to visit?
Alice closed the door and approached the four-poster bed dominating the room. Jill didn’t move. Neither did the tall man who lay on the bed’s gre
at expanse.
His nurse touched the base of the lamp on a polished table at the side of his bed. Soft light flowed out. Even from this distance, her father appeared gravely ill. His thin, pale face did not move. His eyes remained closed, and his dark hair made a stark contrast against the white pillowcase.
Jill studied him, wishing her mother were with her, ending the years of mysterious separation from the man she loved. But Susannah Bradwell Shepherd had died more than three years ago.
“John.” Alice touched his shoulder gently. “She’s here.”
Her father stirred and turned his head toward his nurse while Alice beckoned Jill to approach.
Chapter Two
Jill inhaled sharply. Fixing her eyes on this stranger, she forced one foot in front of the other until she stood beside his bed.
With lungs so tight she wasn’t sure she could breathe, she looked into eyes that matched her own—deep violet flecked with gold and brown. Eyes that all her life had marked her as different, an outcast in her mother’s brown-eyed family.
The man’s lean face registered surprise for a breathless moment and then melted into a softness that searched hers with a tender hunger. “Susannah? Susann—”
“No, John,” Alice interrupted in a soothing voice. “This is your daughter. This is Jill.”
His eyebrows knit together and then relaxed. “Yes. Of course.” He reached for her hand, his eyes never leaving her face. “Jill.”
Her heart curled around that one word. Tears pooled in her eyes. So, this was what it was like to hear her name from her father’s lips. She slipped her hand within his, letting its warmth wrap around hers all the way to her heart.
“So much like your beautiful mother. Please. Sit by me.”
Alice scooted a chair to her.
“I’m so glad you came. You are staying for the holidays, aren’t you?” he asked.
The pleading in his voice wrenched her heart. How could she make such a promise?
“Of course, she is,” Alice broke in. “I’ve prepared the guest room at the head of the stairs just as you requested, John.”
“And her young man?” He seemed to search his mind.
“Clay Merrick,” Alice said. “He’s not here right now.”
John Taylor looked to his daughter. “A problem?”
She shook her head. “A last-minute business emergency.”
Her father’s face twitched in a whisper of a frown before he closed his eyes.
She gently squeezed his hand. “It’s not an issue. Really. I insisted, and he’ll be back in time for Christmas.”
Alice moved away from them. “I’ll leave you two to visit.”
The closing door startled Jill. For the first time in her life, she was alone with her father.
A tear trickled from one of his eyes. “Glad you’re here,” he said, clinging to her hand. Sad eyes searched her face. “I wanted to be ... with you and your mother.” He closed his eyes again. “Life doesn’t always give us what we want. But your mother, she was right. Her way was best. For all of us. Painful. But best.”
Had she heard him right? “Your separation was Mother’s idea? Her plan?” The plan had caused so much suffering. “But why?”
His chin trembled. “My fault. All my fault. Weak. I caused the pain.” He covered his eyes with his other hand.
Jill sat in the chair not knowing what else to say. Tears spilled down her cheeks and clung to her chin before dropping into her lap. Clearly, those years had been as hard for him as for her mother. Though separated by distance and circumstances, their love had survived. Somehow, knowing this helped. At least when she left this house, she would carry with her the comfort of her father’s love both for her mother and for her.
She bit her lower lip and glanced at the closed door. At any moment, they might be interrupted. At any moment, she might be driven from the house. Not by her father’s wife who had died some years ago, but by his mother-in-law who had already made it clear Jill was not welcome in this house.
So little time left. She cringed, not wanting to cause her father further pain. Yet these last minutes might be her one chance to ask the question most on her heart. “Dad?”
He jerked and stared, eyes wide.
She flinched. Oh, no. She’d spoken presumptuously. “I … I’m so sorry, Mr. Taylor.”
“No!” His hoarse bark cut the air. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you call me Dad.”
He had?
“Please. Again.”
Jill held her breath. He was weak. Did she dare ask him the question on her heart? But she had to know. “Dad, what happened? Why weren’t we together all these years?”
“Your mother ... she never told you?”
“She told me you died. Whenever I tried to ask about you, she broke into tears.” Jill dipped her chin and stared at the carpet before returning to drink in his every reaction. “I learned not to ask.”
He nodded, a movement so slight it was almost invisible, the anguish unmistakable.
“Then I graduated from high school. When your gift arrived, Mother told me the truth.”
“What did she say?”
“That you were alive, but I must never try to find you.”
His lips formed a slight smile, and his eyes twinkled for a moment. “But you did. You looked for me.”
“You knew?” How could that be? Unless he had kept track of her.
“And you almost succeeded. That day you showed up at my office.”
She stared, aghast … and nodded.
“We missed each other by minutes,” he said.
That day while waiting in his office to find out if he might be her father, she had studied a framed photo of him with two older daughters. She did not look a bit like either of them. Certain she had made a mistake and would embarrass herself and the man she had come to see, she ran from his office. She had come so close in her search during those rebellious years.
Tears glistened in his eyes. “For Susannah’s sake, I didn’t go after you.”
Muffled, angry voices advanced outside her father’s door. It burst open, and Jill turned to discover the stout woman with silvery hair rushing at her, pointing a well-manicured finger. “I thought I made myself clear. You were to go away.”
Jill rose from the chair to face her accuser.
The drone of the small business jet jangled Clay’s nerves. Ever since his brief conversation with Jill, he couldn’t shake the creeping sense that she had been hiding something. No doubt to spare him. The further the plane swept him away from her, the stronger his unease.
“Manny,” he called to the pilot.
“Yeah, Bud?”
“How long before we arrive in Port-au-Prince?” The time couldn’t go fast enough.
The pilot’s seat squeaked. He glanced back, grinning. “You so anxious to get there?”
“I just need to know.” The sooner he arrived, the sooner he’d get back to Jill.
Manny checked his gauges. “About three and a half hours.”
Eight hours round trip. Francesca had promised to make this a quick trip. If they wrapped up things tonight, or tomorrow at the latest, he would get back to Jill in plenty of time.
Clay shifted, trying to get comfortable on the soft leather seat, but he might as well be sitting on nails. He set his cup of black coffee on the service table, the unease in his gut growing. Lord, I don’t know what’s going on back there, but please keep Jill safe.
Hard to believe they had met only a few short months ago. Funny how quickly she had become the most important part of his life. More than this career he had worked so hard to build. This business was a vital part of his plans for the future. With it, he could ask her to share his life. Without it, he had no solid source of income. And sad to say, without this project, Merrick Restoration and Construction would go belly-up.
Clay snorted as he considered the possibility. That would sure impress Jill’s father. And he had no doubt the man would ask what he did for a livin
g. He needed this contract in hand before he asked John Ashley Taylor’s permission to marry his daughter. Jill would likely marry him without the gesture, but he knew it would please her, adding a special touch to their engagement.
He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. He had been planning for weeks, even picked out the perfect ring as Jill’s Christmas gift. The advance money from Francesca’s project would include enough profit to pay for the ring.
The pilot’s chair squeaked again. “You’re awful quiet, Bud. You doing okay back there?”
“Just thinking.” Clay snatched up the coffee cup and carried it to the sink. He poured out its remaining contents and tossed it in the trash.
“Thinking about that girl of yours … or your meeting with the boss?”
“Both.” Clay settled back into his seat and picked up a magazine. As he cruised through it, nothing grabbed his interest. He slapped it on the service table.
If only he had enough to pay for that ring and the power to tell Manny to turn the plane around and head back. But neither of them had control over their present circumstances, much less the plane’s destination.
Clay pressed his lips firmly together. The minute they reached Port-au-Prince, he would remind Francesca of her promise for his quick return to the States. He would choose his words carefully. In his dealings with her so far, he had observed how no one succeeded in pushing the charming, strong-willed woman. No one manipulated her. Not that he planned to try. But he treated his clients with respect and expected the same from them.
On the plus side, she expressed appreciation for his work on past projects and had the means to finance this costly project. A project which promised to become the set piece of his portfolio. It could propel his company to the next level, and rather than seeking projects, clients would start coming to him.
He blew a tense breath and grabbed his phone to bring up the pictures of Jill he had taken a few days ago. He especially liked this one where she smiled back at him while she and Nona Anderson, her friend and boss, were decorating the fireplace mantle at the house the two shared.