by Lois Richer
“I do feel it.” The whisper slipped out in spite of her determination to remain silent. “I don’t want to, but I do.”
“You don’t want to? Why not?” Understanding dawned; he frowned. “It’s because I was married. Because I have Tati?”
“It’s because you’re dangerous,” she corrected, wishing she’d never made that stupid comment to Piper.
“Dangerous—me?” He blinked. A quirky smile tugged at his mouth. “Don’t you like to play with fire?”
He was teasing but Ashley was deadly serious.
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t do danger, Michael. In fact, I run as far the other way as I can.”
“Why?” His fingers moved to brush against her cheek and into her hair.
“Because I’m afraid.”
“Of what?” he asked on a whisper. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, you’re not,” she agreed softly, stepping back so his hands dropped away. “Because I won’t let you. I c-can’t.”
Moments stretched between them as he struggled to decipher her meaning. Finally he motioned to the armchair.
“Will you explain that to me, please?”
Ashley perched on the edge of the cushion, wishing she’d gone straight home. But she was as bad as he was—she dreamed about Michael, thought about Michael, imagined Michael.
It would have to stop.
“You’re a kind, generous man who deserves to have love and happiness in his life, but I can’t be more than your friend, Michael.”
He studied her, brow furrowed. “Okay. Can you tell me why?”
“I don’t know.” It was so hard to put into words. “I’m not…normal.”
“Agreed.” He smiled at her glare. “Go on.”
“I’ve been engaged twice.”
“Ashley, I don’t care about your past.”
“But you have to. Because it’s made me who I am now. It’s the reason—” she stopped, regrouped. “I was engaged to a man who was a good friend. I’d known him a long time. I wanted that marriage, wanted it badly. I’d planned my life around being married to him. Then I found out he was in love with someone else, that he was afraid to tell me about her.”
“That sounds cowardly.”
“It wasn’t.” She smiled. “It was decent and honorable and very kind of him to believe he had to honor his commitment to me. But it was wrong and I knew it. I broke our engagement off immediately, told him I wanted him to marry the woman he loved, that I intended to be there for his wedding. And I was.”
“That took guts.” He kept watching her. “Then you were engaged a second time?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Not such a decent and honorable choice this time. I think I knew I’d made a mistake almost immediately but the accident forced me to accept that marriage between us would not work.”
He waited and when she said no more, he hunkered down in front of her, clasped her hands in his. “Why did you tell me that, Ashley?”
“So you’d understand.”
“Understand that you’d been hurt? That you’d made mistakes. That’s part of life.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She stared into his clear brown eyes and prayed for help.
“What did you mean?”
“I’m a coward, Michael. I’m afraid of life. I hung on to Parker even though I knew he didn’t love me because I was afraid that if I didn’t marry him, I’d be left alone. With him I was protected. I didn’t have to fear.”
“But you figured out it was wrong. You corrected your mistake.”
“No, I didn’t.” She sighed, wishing—but it had to be said. “I latched on to Kent, ignored all the warning signs and told myself somebody was better than nobody. I lent him money, I covered for him, I even lied for him.” She hung her head in shame.
“Because you loved him.”
She raised her head, met his gaze. “No. Because I needed him. As long as I was with him, I wasn’t alone. It took a car accident to force me to realize that Kent didn’t want me. He wanted what he thought he could get from me and he was willing to do anything to get it—even put me in danger.”
“What he could get from you?” He looked confused.
“My grandfather left me money. A lot of money. Kent wanted it.”
“So you dumped him. Good.” He grimaced. “I’ve made mistakes, too.”
“I’m not talking about mistakes.” She rose, stepped away from him. “I came to Serenity Bay to heal. Well, in order to really heal what’s inside, I’m realizing that I have to learn how to face life without fear.”
“You’re afraid a relationship between us will turn you into that needy person again, is that it?”
“That’s part of it,” she admitted softly. “The other part is that you have to be here for your daughter. She needs stability and that comes first. I understand that, I admire that about you and there’s no way I would ask or even want you to change that. Tatiana belongs with you.”
“Yes, she does. But that doesn’t mean—”
“Yes, it does. Because first and foremost you are her father and she needs you.” She stepped in front of him, cupped his cheek in her hand. “You have a big heart. You want to help everyone and you think you can make me better, scare all the bogeymen away for me. I love you for thinking that, but you can’t do it.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to figure out my life on my terms.” She leaned her head against his chest and let him hold her, just for a moment. The words poured out of their own accord. “The truth is, I’ve lived in the shadow of fear for years.”
“But how—”
“I managed it. In Vancouver I had my life mapped out, every step of my day was thought out in deliberate detail to cover every eventuality. I thought I was safe, but now I realize I missed really living. And I want to.”
“Tell me what you want from me.”
She leaned back, stared into his eyes.
“I want a friend.” She pressed a finger against his lips, shook her head. “I know you want more, but for now that’s what I need most. And that’s all I can give.”
“Then that’s what you’ve got.” He bent his head and pressed his lips against hers in a kiss so soft and gentle it made her want to weep. Then he let his arms fall away and took a step back.
Ashley watched him, aching to be held, to be protected, yet knowing it wasn’t enough.
“I’m here whenever you need me, Ashley. I’ll gladly come if you call, I’ll do whatever you ask. But most of all I’ll pray for you.”
Pray? She hadn’t expected that.
“I think you coming home to Serenity Bay is part of God’s plan. I don’t think it’s an accident that God brought us both here to begin again. I don’t know what He’s got planned, but I do know He wants you to be able to trust Him completely, that your life will only be complete when you stop worrying and start depending on Him. That’s what I’m going to pray for. I think we should start right now.”
And before she could protest he closed his eyes and began to ask God to show her His love and care. When he was finished Ashley knew she had a lot of thinking to do.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Michael simply smiled, helped her into her coat, handed over her gloves, then waited while she pulled on her boots.
“I’m glad you told me,” he said quietly before she opened the door. “Maybe that’s the first step to facing whatever you have to face.”
“Maybe. Goodnight, Michael. And thanks.”
As she drove to Piper’s, Ashley automatically slipped into planning mode. Where should she live, what should she do? How could she get past the fear that a future full of unknowns held?
As quickly as the questions came and the worry rose up to choke her, she shoved them away.
“God has not given us a spirit of fear,” she quoted out loud.
She said it over and over, all the way home, and she tried to believe it.
Chapter Eight
&nb
sp; “You have to be crazy to have let yourself be talked into this, Masters.”
Michael glared at the jagged edges of poorly sawn plywood that were supposed to represent the northern lights. Somebody wasn’t very good with a jigsaw. He’d have to fix it. Grumbling to himself, he let it fall against the floor with a loud clap.
“Obviously I’m as looney as they come.”
“I think that’s a bad sign.”
He jerked around, grimaced at Ashley’s laughing face.
“Answering yourself, I mean. Talking to yourself is perfectly normal.”
“Really?” He was content to stand there and stare his fill.
“Maybe you need to think about a holiday, Michael.”
“You tell me where and when and I’ll be there,” he muttered, embarrassed that she’d overheard him complaining.
“Christmas isn’t that far away.”
“Now you sound like Tati.” He moved the pieces so they were lined up in sequence. “Does this look right to you?”
“No.” She stepped nearer, pulled a paper out of the file she was carrying. “You’re missing a section.” She held out the paper for him to see.
“That’s Marc. I figured his project would take longer than anyone else’s. He’s not exactly organized. What are you doing here?” He dusted off his hands while his eyes feasted on the woman who hadn’t been out of his thoughts for more than half an hour, even though he hadn’t seen her in two weeks.
According to Jason, Ashley had taken a trip to Toronto to try to drum up gallery interest in her artists. He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d done.
“Checking on your progress. The kids have already started rehearsals. The drama teacher is delighted with the script. He’s got a mixture of local talent helping him.” She frowned, touched her finger to the end of his nose, showed him the sawdust. “A new fashion statement?”
“Nothing close to yours.” He admired the jade-green suit she wore and the high black boots that did great things for her legs. “What’s the occasion? My art teacher never dressed like you.”
“No class today. I’m working on something else. Something I came to ask your help with.”
Michael heard the hesitation and ignored it. “Shoot.”
“I need you to look at a house.”
“A house?” He raised one eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because I’m thinking about buying it.”
“Wow! What brought this on?” She was going to live here permanently? His heart swelled.
“I struck out in Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver and New York. And it makes me furious.”
She looked steamed. Her silver-gilt hair danced over her shoulders shooting out sparks where the light hit it.
“They wouldn’t agree to a full-scale show,” he guessed.
“Not for the weavings, the paintings, the stained glass. Not even all together. Nobody will do more than take a couple of pieces on a trial basis.” She flopped down on an upturned crate, her gray eyes steely. “Not a visionary among them. Philistines!”
“I see.” Been there, done that. Which made thoughts of his own showing next summer seem an impossibility. “And buying a house will help you because—?”
“I’m going to turn it into a gallery,” Ashley said. Her chin jutted out as if she expected an argument. “At least I think I am. If you’ll tell me whether the thing is stable and worth renovating. Will you?”
The excitement of her project radiated from her, lighting her face from within. She’d obviously come to a decision and was now plunging full speed ahead. But Michael couldn’t help wondering if she was running into something, or away from something.
“Ashley, I’m not an architect or an engineer,” he warned. “You should have the structure checked by a professional.”
“I will, after I hear your opinion.” Her big gray eyes studied him. “Will you do it? If you’d rather not be involved, just say so.”
“Sure, I can look. No problem. I’m just not sure my opinion is worth anything.” He dusted off his clothes.
“It is to me,” she said quietly.
Michael froze. There it was—an almost-admission that she wanted him in her life—as more than a friend?
“Just look at it, listen to my ideas, and then tell me if you think I’m nuts. That’s all I’m asking. P-please?”
The tone of her voice, that soft wobbly note that told him she was having second thoughts, that’s what did him in.
“When?”
“Whenever you want.”
There was no way he could turn her down, not when she wore that look—the same one Tati got when she begged for another bedtime story.
“We could go now. School’s almost out and I don’t have a class this period.”
“That would be great.” Her eyes shone with anticipation. “I’ll drive.”
“Okay.” He had to go back to the staff room to retrieve his coat so he met her in the parking lot. “You’re excited about this, aren’t you?”
“Yes. For the first time in a long time I feel like I’m being proactive instead of reacting.”
“That’s good.” He noted where they were going, frowning when she turned down a familiar lane. “Isn’t this—” Michael paused when she stopped in front of her childhood home.
“I have a kind of love-hate relationship with this house,” Ashley explained as she switched off the motor. “When I wasn’t here, I wanted to be, and when I got here in the summer, it didn’t feel like I thought it should. After a while it became oppressive, the source of bad memories. When my father died, I was glad to sell it.”
“But now you want it back?”
“I want to start changing the bad memories, make them into something good.”
Michael got out of her vehicle, followed her up the path. He did a quick appraisal of the area as she unlocked the door.
“It’s a residential neighborhood. The town council might have something to say about rezoning it for your purposes.”
“I’ve already asked Jason about that. I thought that as mayor he’d know the ins and outs.”
“You’ve thought this through, I see.”
“A bit.” She grinned. “Since it’s a cul de sac, Jason thinks the council probably won’t kick up much of a fuss, especially since I intend to buy the lots on either side for parking.”
“Big parking lot,” he mused.
“I have some other ideas but I’ll tell you about them another time.” She grasped his arm, drew him into the house. “Imagine this as a big open space. Those walls will come down, of course.”
She went on, pointing out changes she’d make, indicating special spots she’d dedicate to sit and look at specific works. Michael followed, trying to visualize through her eyes.
“The kitchen will stay, altered of course, but I want to make it an area where different artists could come and demonstrate, hold a workshop or speak to those interested while others come and go through the rest of the place. If there’s a reception or something for a showing it will be handy.”
“Good idea.”
Ashley walked forward, pushed open a door and waved a hand.
“I’m going to extend this toward the water, screen part of it in.” She went on and on, describing a variety of activities that could all be held within the confines of the house.
As they moved through it, Michael checked for repairs that would be needed.
“I could have kids’ classes down here,” she said, stepping downstairs.
The basement seemed solid, no foundation problems. The second floor seemed equally solid though the roof in one room gave him pause.
“I think you might need new shingles,” he murmured, running one hand over the yellow stained plaster. “And someone to fix this.”
“Yes, I saw that the other day. I think the bathrooms will have to be redone, too, especially if I intend to stay.”
“You’ll live here?” he asked, amazed that she’d even consider it.
“I have to live
somewhere. I don’t want to be at Piper’s after she’s married. Besides, there’s plenty of room here.”
“Yes, there is.” He studied her, noted the way her fingers gripped the doorknob. She was putting up a brave front, but it was obvious the thought terrified her. “I think it would probably take a while to do the work here. I’m sure Piper and Jason wouldn’t mind you staying.”
“I’d mind. Newlyweds need privacy.”
“True.” He followed her to the room at the back. She waved a hand.
“This is my room.”
“From when you were a child?”
She nodded. “I used to sit in this window seat and dream. Or paint. I’ve drawn those hills a hundred times.”
“They are beautiful,” he agreed.
Michael studied the view with her, finally touching her arm. He waited until she faced him.
“This is a really big commitment, Ashley.” The sunlight flooding the room turned her hair into a cloud of silver-gold. “Not just of money but of time. Are you sure you want to do it?”
“I have to.” Her voice cracked, but she cleared her throat, kept going. “I realize now that I can’t go back to the city. Not until I’m free.”
That shocked him. “Free of what?”
“Well, I’m still figuring that out.” A funny crooked smile touched her lips.
Michael leaned forward, pressed his lips against her forehead, tapped her chin with his fist.
“Good for you.” He stepped back. “As far as I can tell the house looks solid, but I’d have someone check it thoroughly before you sign anything. You’ll probably want assurances on the rezoning first, too.”
She nodded.
“Probably. But I am going to buy this house, Michael. If the gallery doesn’t work out, I’ll move in, live here, make it my home. For a while anyway.”
“Why is this house so important to you, Ashley?”
Her shoulders went back, her face tightened. Those big gray eyes, usually so troubled, now seemed to clear.
“I think because this is where it started. It’s the first link in the chain, Michael. It’s one of the things I’ve attached negatives to.”