“Je t’apprécie vraiment. I love you, Arnaud.”
“Daphne!”
She heard the fear in his voice, but she felt too tired to respond. Her head ached, and she needed to sleep. Just a small nap before . . .
“Daphne, come back to Paris!”
Paris. She awoke in Paris. The scent of fresh rain filled her senses, and under that a foundation of freshly baked bread. She inhaled the sensations around her. The wonderfully old buildings surrounded her like a warm raincoat. She was in the Fourth District with its beautifully elaborate architecture, its quiet embrace. Night was falling, and the City of Light was just starting to sparkle and soon would reflect off the River Seine under its magical bridges.
Someone in a clown suit handed her a baguette and a bouquet of balloons.
“Merci,” she said.
The clown nodded.
She walked down the rue de Bourg Tibourg, two walls of antique buildings on either side cradling her in their familiar warmth. A man in a tuxedo walked three dogs toward her, and as he approached she felt an overwhelming warmth from his presence. As if he gave off a ray of light with his very being. He glowed from basking in God’s love. As he approached, the city noises disappeared, and all she could sense was the scent of fresh rain. The dogs had vanished.
“Where have your dogs gone?” she asked.
As he got closer, she recognized Jesse’s mesmerizing blue-green eyes and felt the warmth of his glow. “They’ve gone home,” he said.
She released her grasp on the balloons, and they rose into the night sky. She held only the baguette. “Are you hungry?”
Jesse came toward her and put his hands around her face. He began to kiss her, and she dropped the baguette to the cobblestones below. His hands pulled her closer yet, and he hungrily showered her with kisses. He pulled away, and suddenly he was yards away, only the glow of him remaining.
“Perfect love casts out fear, Daphne,” he said as he disappeared completely from her sight.
“Jesse! Come back!”
“Perfect love,” the voice said again. She looked down at her feet, and the baguette was gone too. She ran across the cobbled streets searching for him.
“Jesse!” she yelled again, but nothing would bring back the image. The warmth. She was alone . . .
Chapter 12
Ben hummed in the backseat while Jesse sped the short distance back to Daphne’s house. He was probably making a fool of himself, but he couldn’t afford to take the chance. He’d rather Daphne think him a soppy idiot than second-guess himself ever again. Living with regrets was the worst curse. Far worse than showing a person you cared—even if the person did find you off your rocker.
“Daddy? Can we go to McDonald’s for dinner?”
He glanced back at his son. “After we do what Daddy has to do, yes, we can. I owe you that much. Are you going to have chicken nuggets or a hamburger?”
“Nuggets,” Ben said decisively. “With lots of ketchup.”
Jesse pulled into Daphne’s driveway and turned to Ben.
“Can you be a big boy and wait here a minute?”
Ben nodded. “French fries,” he said.
“I’ll be right back, son.” He clambered out of the car and rushed up the crumbling concrete steps. The door was unlocked, and he pushed it open. “Daphne!” The smell of gas was stronger than ever, and he could kick himself for his stupidity. For ignoring his instincts again. “Daphne, where are you?”
He found her on the floor in the living room. He held his breath and lifted her from the age-old carpet. Cradling her in his arms, he rushed out the door and ran down the steps. He placed her on the overgrown grass and called to his son. “Ben!”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Ben, take my phone and call 911. Remember how we practiced it?”
Ben scrambled out of his car seat and waved the cell phone to show his father that he could do it.
Jesse’s shoulders tightened at the responsibilities before him. He had to turn off the gas. He had to get Daphne breathing again. He had to get Ben out of here, lest the gas should have any reason to explode.
A stranger walked past him on the sidewalk. “Sir, sir!” Jesse called. “Can you come help me?” The man kept walking as if Jesse were insane. The scene ate at some distant memory of his own, and his hands curled into fists instinctively.
Ben appeared at his side with the cell phone in his hand. “Here, Daddy.”
Jesse took the phone. He quickly gave the address and explained the scene. The dispatcher wanted him to remain on the line, but Ben’s frightened expression forced him to tell the woman he couldn’t wait.
“Daddy, what’s wrong with the lady? Is she sick like Mommy?”
“No, buddy.” He put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “How did you know Mommy was sick?”
“Auntie Abby told me. She said Mommy got sick and had to go to heaven. Jesus wanted her right away.”
He felt for Daphne’s pulse. He knew enough from lab rules that administering CPR could prove dangerous if she’d inhaled dangerous levels. He prayed for the ambulance to get there with oxygen.
“Ben, get over by the sidewalk. I don’t want you near the house, all right? The lady’s going to be okay.”
“First we hafta pray.” His son closed his eyes as though prayer was the easiest stance in the world. “Jesus, make this lady better. You already have my mommy in heaven, and that’s enough. Amen.”
Jesse’s heart swelled with pride and his eyes filled with tears. His four-year-old son had the faith of a giant. He followed up with his own prayer and asked Ben to sit on the grass by the sidewalk. Jesse gazed on Daphne’s clear complexion and smoothed the loose tendrils of dark hair. Her skin appeared sallow, with deep, purple marks under her eyes. Her falsely full lips looked fuller. She sputtered and coughed then, and took short, desperate breaths.
“She needs oxygen.” Jesse lifted her into a better position, where her body wasn’t bent and her throat had clear access to the summer air. “Daphne,” he whispered. “It’s Jesse. Breathe, Daphne. Take a deep breath for me.” He bent over her and thrust a breath inside her. Her sleepy eyes blinked heavily.
“Jesse,” she said groggily. “Do you smell the scent of rain?”
“I smell it, Daphne. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”
He felt the slightest pressure and exhaled his relief. He couldn’t have said why someone he barely knew meant so much to him already, but it was apparent. This wasn’t any act of a Good Samaritan. He cared. More than he wanted to. More than he ever wanted to again.
An ambulance pulled up, with a fire engine close behind. Two EMTs jumped out and came toward him.
“She inhaled gas. There’s a leak.”
“Is the gas off?” called a firefighter.
“I didn’t have time,” Jesse answered.
“How long was she in there?” asked one of the EMTs.
“I don’t know.”
“You need to get the kid away from the house. Smell’s still pretty strong.”
Jesse crossed the lawn and picked up Ben, still berating himself. Why hadn’t he turned the gas off before he left?
“Daddy, can we go to McDonald’s now?”
“Soon, honey. Right now our car is blocked by the fire engine. Let’s take a walk down the street until they finish their job.”
“That lady is like Snow White, Daddy. You kissed her and she came back to life.”
He reached down for Ben’s hand. “That’s called CPR, Ben. She didn’t have enough breath of her own, so I gave her some of mine.”
“Like a magic kiss.”
“Yes, I suppose.” He took Ben’s hand and walked away from the house while the firefighters secured the place and the EMTs helped Daphne. The scene ate at him. If he’d listened to that still, small voice, none of this would have happened. He called the gas company from his cell and reported the leak, even though the fire department had probably already taken care of it. He had to do something useful.
> He looked back toward the house. Daphne was sitting up now, leaning on a kneeling fireman. Although he’d seen her breathing, in his heart he’d panicked at how close she’d come to being consumed by the house. By his own misgivings and dawdling.
“Is she going to be okay, Daddy?”
“She’s going to be fine, Ben. Just like you prayed.”
He looked down at his son in his red-and-white striped T-shirt and blue shorts, each decorated with an orange fish. Abby really was an excellent mother to Ben, and he felt grateful his sister had been there for him. He squeezed Ben’s hand and bent to lift him. “She’ll be fine,” he said again.
“Can we go to McDonald’s now? We could ask the firemen to move the engine.”
“The firemen are still busy doing their job. How about if we just wait a little while longer?”
Ben stuck his lower lip out. “I’m hungry now.”
Neighbors were gathering outside, responding to the wail of sirens. An older man walking a husky came up beside them. “What’s happening?”
“Gas leak,” Jesse said.
The older man shook his head. “I knew that house was bad news. Heard a young couple bought it. I told my wife I hope they had that place inspected.”
“I don’t really know.”
“Is that the girl who lives there?” The old man jutted his chin toward Daphne and the scene of firemen.
“Yes. She works for me. Her name’s Daphne.” Jesse knew he was rattling on.
“Looks like she’s going to be okay. Your boy like dogs?”
Ben nodded enthusiastically.
“This is Kodiak. He likes kids. You want to pet him? He only lets really special kids pet him. Boys like you.”
Ben struggled to get down, and Jesse set him on the sidewalk where he was face-to-face with the giant blue-eyed dog.
Something gnawed at him about seeing Daphne on the ground like that. He remembered Mark’s words in the letter: “A man would have to be crazy to marry into that family.” He had to admit, the warning touched a nerve. Hannah had been so sensitive, and he hadn’t been prepared for that. What if he wasn’t prepared for his feelings for Daphne either? Then it would be true that he’d had his one and only shot at love.
“Ben, we need to go now.”
“Nice-looking woman,” the old man said. “Hope they can get that house up to code, but they’ve got a long road ahead of them. Remember that old movie The Money Pit?”
“No,” Jesse said.
“That’s what these two got themselves. A money pit. No one’s lived in that place for years.”
“It looks like the fire truck is moving. Nice to meet you, Mr.—”
“Riley. Ed Riley.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Riley. Jesse Lightner. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of one another someday.”
“Count on it. Your boy here can help me walk Kodiak. Dog needs a lot of walking.”
“Come on, Ben. Let’s get to McDonald’s, then Daddy’s going to have Mrs. Weimer watch you. Daddy has something to do.”
“You said you’d help me with the big Legos tonight.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Well, first he had to go to the hospital.
He needed to tell Daphne to take the next two weeks off and get her life sorted out. Clearly, she was no use to him as a nose anyway, but he felt betrayed. First, by Dave in hiring her, and now by Daphne. She let him believe she’d been forthright with him, that she was a woman of her word—when, in fact, her word obviously meant very little. A lie by omission was still a lie. There was no other explanation for the day’s events. Daphne Sweeten had lost her sense of smell, and perhaps her way.
In any case, he wasn’t about to let her wake up alone in a strange place. At least he told himself that’s what it was about. But inside he knew there was more to it than that. He didn’t want Daphne to feel alone. He forced the word ever away.
Chapter 13
Daphne awoke in the hospital. Her head pounded, and she groaned in pain. She hadn’t felt any pain in her dream—she’d been in Paris, dining on luxury cheeses and pasta in truffle oil with no worries for her palate. She’d even kissed her dream man—and it was not Mark. It was—
“Daphne?”
She looked to her right and felt herself turn scarlet at the sight of her boss. “Jesse!” she said, certain he saw right through her and knew how she’d dreamed of him in a most unprofessional manner. “What are you doing here?”
He lifted a small basket and set it beside her on the hospital bed. “I brought you some things, like my iPad. So you can play Angry Birds. I thought it was the closest I could get you to the archery field for now.” His jaw was tight, and though his words were friendly, his demeanor was not. He wouldn’t look at her directly.
“No, I mean, what am I doing here?”
“It seems you had a gas leak in the house.” He went to the window and fiddled with the curtain. “I found you unconscious in your living room. Do you want to tell me how that happened? You said you were going to check the gas.”
“I must have forgotten.”
“You can’t smell, Daphne.” He turned toward her, hands on his hips, suit jacket pulled back. “Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong. If not, what were you thanking me for after the meeting when Dave waved those scent strips in front of you? Don’t tell me the story you told him about being nervous. You accepted my help, so I figured you knew.” Jesse’s voice was stern. Annoyed. “I gave you a chance to tell me after the staff meeting, when I pulled over on the freeway, but you didn’t. If I hadn’t listened to my gut, you would have been gone.”
“I hoped maybe you’d forget, or you’d just think I was off my game—and really, that’s what I hoped it was. When I saw your interaction with Dave, I worried for your job if I didn’t live up to what my résumé said about me. I was afraid you’d be held liable for me.”
“Did you think to worry that if you’d turned up dead, I’d have yet another inquiry into why young women seem to slip into heaven when they’re with me?”
“I—” She stammered to find the words. “I never thought of such a thing. I was going to tell you!”
“Like you were going to check the gas valve.”
“You have to understand, I thought I’d have my sense of smell back any minute. I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I was only buying my nose some time.”
He scratched at his head. “Do you know how close Gibraltar is to running out of capital? Do you know the difference your salary makes to my bottom line? When did this happen?”
“After my wedding. After what should have been my wedding. That’s why I think it has to be temporary. It’s just a stress reaction, and when I gain control of it, I’ll be fine.”
The sting of tears gnawed at her, but she clamped down tightly on her jaw to keep from breaking down. Professionals didn’t cry, but the way Jesse wouldn’t look at her made her feel ashamed that she’d been secretive to protect herself without regard to him.
“I wish you’d told me.” Jesse’s dress shoes clicked on the hospital floor as he paced the small room. “Though I suppose I knew it, on some level.”
“What do you mean?” She hadn’t let on that there was anything missing from her senses.
“That’s why I was at your house. I was checking on you because I couldn’t get past the idea that you couldn’t smell that gas. It was strong. But there were other clues.”
“There were?”
“My car smells like a small rodent died in it. Ben threw a sippy cup under the seat, and I found it a few weeks later.”
“Oh dear.”
“Then there was the salt in your coffee and the sugar in your soup.”
“They use odd containers at that restaurant.”
“Anne told me that you don’t drink coffee. It’s too strong for your palate. She’d asked me to approve a green tea for you to drink during the day.”
Sheepishly, she looked up at him through her bangs. “I was still able to put together a decent sample for
you at the restaurant. I thought I’d rely on my chemistry background until the scents came back.”
“Instead of a base note of oak moss, it seems you used oatmeal.”
She sank into her bed. “Oh.” Things looked bad. She’d believed that her chemistry skills would pull her through. No wonder he thought she was a con artist. She wasn’t able to do the job, and she’d lied rather than admit it.
“Jesse, this isn’t like me, you have to understand. I’m usually honest to a fault, but I was afraid. You didn’t think a nose would help your staff. But I know it will.”
“When I find one, I’ll let you know.” His jaw twitched, and his set expression told her there was little reason to say more.
“I understand,” she said curtly.
“You understand? Do you understand what it was like for me to find you crumpled on your floor?” Jesse looked pained as he dropped his forehead in his hand. “You didn’t have to be perfect, Daphne. You could have told me your circumstances, and I would have given you time off. Why did you come here early if you knew that you couldn’t smell?”
She didn’t have an answer. None that would suffice. And she knew after one day that Jesse wasn’t confrontational. She’d taken a perfectly reasonable man and turned him against her. “I’m sorry that things worked out this way. Look at the bright side: you’ll get your funds back in your budget.”
“I’m not worried about the—” His face got red, and he stopped and drew in a deep breath. “I don’t care about the money, Daphne. Not anymore. I care that you put yourself in a stupid situation rather than ask for my help. Was I that frightening?”
She wanted to tell him that at the moment he was, yes. “I’m used to taking care of things myself, and you barely know me; why would this time be any different for me?”
“Because I’m not the guy who stood you up at the altar. I would have helped you if you’d only asked. I care about my staff. I cared about you immediately. Enough where I wanted you to get out of Gibraltar as soon as possible before your dream died. You don’t belong here. A few months under Dave, and you’d forget about all that and believe there were no other options for you. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen time and time again. I wanted to give you a way out, and you thanked me by lying to me.”
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