by Lisa Gregory
"But you've done those things in your own home. That's different," he reminded her.
Julia lowered her eyes. James looked horrified. She must have committed a social error. No doubt the women of his acquaintance didn't hire themselves out to clean, no matter how poor they were. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do."
"Stay here. It wouldn't be for long. You'll—marry again, I'm sure." The words stuck in his throat. He picked up the fork, his fingers clenching around it unconsciously.
Julia's head came up. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes flashed blue fire. "No. I'm not marrying a man just to have a roof over my head. That's no better than selling yourself, and I won't do that again." She stopped abruptly and jumped up from her chair. She walked quickly toward the stove. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." What would he think of her now, as good as saying that she had sold herself to Will Dobson?
James froze. What had she meant? That she had sold herself to her husband? But why? Or had she meant that she had sold herself earlier, not to Will Dobson, but to himself? It didn't make sense, but then, very little about their brief time together made sense to him. There was a faint ache in his chest, like the pain of an old wound.
"Julia..." In the emotion of the moment, he forgot that he addressed her formally now as Mrs. Dobson. "I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't implying that you would marry a man just to have a house and a—a means of support. I was simply saying that you are bound to—fall in love and marry again. I'm sorry if I offended you."
Julia turned back to face him. "I'm sorry, too, for flying off the handle. But I ... well, I'm not likely to marry."
He wondered, with a wicked little stab of satisfaction, if that was because she hadn't enjoyed her first marriage. On the other hand, perhaps she was still too in love with Dobson to fall in love with another man. It shouldn't matter to him, anyway, any more than it should matter whether she scrubbed someone's house in order to live.
But it did matter.
Julia returned to the table, and they began to eat again. James didn't notice that Julia only poked at her pork and peas. He was too busy watching his own fingers crumble a piece of cornbread into tiny bits.
The children came bounding in the back door, and Julia was grateful for the distraction of their presence. James looked at them and smiled a little stiffly, in the way of an adult who isn't used to young ones. "Hello, Bonnie. Vance." He hesitated for a second. He had heard Julia say their names that day in the store; they were implanted on his brain. But what was the other one's name? "Emily."
Julia was surprised that he knew her children's names. She couldn't think when he would have even heard them. Yet apparently he knew theirs better than Emily's.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Banks," Julia's two replied. Their mother had drilled politeness into their heads. Emily simply gave him one of her irresistible smiles. The children's eyes went to the stove, and James smiled.
"It must be time for their supper."
Julia nodded. "Soon." She turned to the children. "Wash up. now, and you can eat soon as Uncle Luke gets in."
James watched them cross to the washstand and clean their faces and hands. Bonnie's and Vance's hair was dark, but he could see Julia in the fine bone structure of their faces and in their large, grave eyes. Dobson had been dark, as James himself was. Would his and Julia's children have looked like this, their coloring his, their features Julia's?
He stood. "I'll get out of your way now."
He picked up his medical kit. He was always awkward leaving Julia's house. He remembered how when they were young he had lingered over saying good-bye, kissing her again and again, until the last thing he wanted to do was walk away. "Well. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Dr. Banks."
❧
During the next two weeks, Sarah grew stronger. She came downstairs for much of the day, going back to her bed for only a nap or two. At first she simply sat, but soon she began helping Julia with the chores that could be done sitting down: sewing, mending, chopping vegetables, polishing the silver. By the end of the week, she was setting the table, sweeping the floors, and doing some of the other light chores. Julia was sure that when James saw her again, he would declare her well.
That meant that soon Julia would have to leave the house. She knew that she would be only a burden to them now. Luke, Sarah, and Emily needed to be a family by themselves again. They wouldn't dream of asking her to leave. They were too kind, too loving. She would have to take the initiative.
As soon as James said Sarah was well, she would go into town to look for work, Julia decided. She quailed at the thought of going from door to door, asking if there was work available, but she didn't know what else to do.
She didn't mention her plan to Sarah or Luke. There would be time enough for that when she was ready to go. She didn't look forward to telling them. She didn't look forward to going. She had never lived as comfortably and pleasantly as she had since she came here. It would be so easy to stay. But it would be better for all of them, Bonnie and Vance included, if she and the children moved into a home of their own.
James came to the house two weeks later, as he had said he would. Sarah herself opened the door at his knock.
He smiled. "No need to ask if you're feeling better."
Sarah's smile was slower and less brilliant than it had been in the past. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Doctor."
"Then you won't have to see me again for a while."
They went upstairs for the examination. James came down alone a short time later. He paused in the doorway of the kitchen. Julia stood at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot. She hadn't heard his entrance, and he watched her unobserved for a moment. Her back was slim and straight. Soft stray hairs had come loose from her twist and clung damply to her neck, darker than the almost white fairness of the rest of her hair She was graceful, her movements smooth and economical. It was pleasant to watch her.
Julia turned, sensing his presence, and a flush rose in her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were there. Would you like something to drink?"
He shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. "No, not today. I'd like to talk to you ..." He hesitated, wanting to call her Julia, but knowing he should be more formal. It was difficult to call her Mrs. Dobson, as if they had never been anything to each other. As he usually did, be wound up not saying any name at all.
"Of course. Is there something wrong with Sarah?"
"No. Not at all. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you. Sarah is doing quite well. I wanted to talk to you about what we discussed the other day—your seeking employment."
"Oh." Julia nervously straightened the edges of her apron. She disliked arguing, particularly with James. "Please, there really isn't any point. My mind's made up."
"I won't try to change your mind, at least not about your decision to work. I wanted to talk to you about a specific job."
Julia's eyes widened. It surprised her that he was taking the time and trouble to help her.
Sarah's heels sounded on the stairs above them.
"Would you rather discuss this alone?" James asked.
"Yes. Thank you. Why don't we go outside?" Julia walked out the side door and down the steps. She turned to face James, her body tense. She wanted to know, yet she didn't. "Do you know someone who wants a cook or housekeeper?"
"No, not exactly. It's—I'm the one who would like to hire you."
Julia stared. "You want me to clean your house?" She couldn't do that. Anything but that. She simply could not be a maid in James Banks's house, once his lover and now his servant.
"No, of course not." He looked offended. "I wouldn't think of asking you to—no, I want you to assist me in my office."
"What? I don't understand."
"It would be a great help to me if someone could take information from my patients when they come in, keep my files up-to-date, and do the book work. I haven't the time for it. I could show you how to keep the records. You could do that, couldn't you?"
"I guess I could." Julia replied slowly, even more stunned by this request. Working in his office! She had never dreamed of doing anything like that. "But surely you could get someone better than me. I mean, someone who knows what she's doing."
"But you do. You know the important things. Keeping the records is only part of it. I need someone to help me with the patients. To hold a broken limb in place while I'm setting it. To calm a frightened child. To hand me the instruments I need. I need a nurse, like the ones in the hospital where I worked in New Orleans. But there aren't any here. I've needed one for quite some time, but I have struggled along by myself. Then, when you told me you wanted to work, I realized how perfect you would be for the job."
The truth was, he had racked his brain for days trying to think of some way to talk Julia out of her decision to hire herself out as a cleaning woman. Then, suddenly, this idea had popped into his mind. It was perfect. He cud need an assistant, and he thought Julia could do the job. He could pay her decent money, and she wouldn't have to do menial work.
"But I don't—I'm not a nurse."
"No, but you do have a lot of practical experience. I'm not likely to find a nurse in this area. The best I can do is find someone with natural talent and train her for the job. You've tended sick people. I saw how good and efficient you were during Mrs. Turner's delivery. You knew what I needed and got it even before I asked."
"I have attended several births, but that doesn't mean I could do anything else."
"You're calm; you're good with people; and you're not squeamish. Those are the basic prerequisites. I can teach you what you need to know. I'm not asking you to practice medicine, just to help me. I know you'd catch on quickly."
Julia gazed at him silently. She didn't know what to say.
What he had suggested to her seemed like Heaven. She wouldn't have to go from door to door, humbly asking for work. She wouldn't have the hard physical labor involved in cooking and cleaning. She knew James would not be a difficult taskmaster. The work would be interesting, not dull. She had always enjoyed helping people. It was exhilarating and joyful to help a baby into the world. It was satisfying to see a sick person take a turn for the better. Julia knew she would love the work. That wasn't the problem.
The problem was that she would be working with James. Julia wasn't sure she could stand that. It would be wonderful, of course. Whenever he was around, everything was suddenly a little brighter, a little more colorful, a little more exciting. She didn't love him—not yet, anyways—but she knew that the seeds of her old love for him were still there, deep inside her. Working with him all the time, watching him save people's lives, seeing him at his best, his most glorious—it would be horribly easy to fall in love with him again.
It would hurt even worse this time if she did. There was no hope of her love being returned; James wouldn't even desire her now. She was too old, too careworn. She was the mother of two children, after all! James Banks could have his pick of the most beautiful and charming young women in town. He wouldn't have the slightest interest in her; any love or desire she had for him would be completely unrequited. And Julia no longer had the resiliency of youth. She wasn't sure she could recover from a broken heart now.
Yet, how could she refuse his offer? How could she turn down something so perfect, so appealing?
"I'd pay you better than you would make as a house servant," James went on, misinterpreting her hesitation. "You wouldn't have to pay for a place to live, either. I have a rent house that's unoccupied, and you could have it. It's not large, but I think it would be ample for you and your children."
A house of her own! Julia had been sure that she would be able to afford no more than a room in a boardinghouse for herself and the children. A salary, a place to live, interesting work—how could she turn it down? James was being more than generous.
"You're very kind, too kind, really." she began.
To her surprise, a dark flush rose along his cheekbones, and his face hardened. "I'm not trying to obligate you! I swear. I wouldn't use this job or the house as a way to force you to—"
"Oh, no!" Julia gasped, horrified that he should have misinterpreted her reluctance in that way. "I know that. I didn't think that. You're far too good a man."
James's face softened, and he smiled ruefully. "I'm not so sure about that." He paused. "Then what is it? Do you dislike the work? Would it be distasteful to you to work with me?"
"No. I know I would enjoy the work very much."
"Then why are you hesitating?"
She couldn't tell him her real reasons for holding back. Julia glanced down at her hands; she couldn't look him in the eyes. "I'm not sure. It's so sudden. I never thought about something like this. It's—I'm not sure I could do it."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"
"I'm afraid you're offering this to me just to be kind."
"Why should I do that?" James's mouth thinned. There was no reason for him to do it. He shouldn't feel responsible for her, shouldn't care what happened to her. She had hurt him as badly as a woman could hurt a man. He ought to hate her. Yet he couldn't. Nor could he keep from trying to take care of her. He could remember too clearly the smooth feel of her skin beneath his fingers, the way her face loosened with desire, the passion-bruised look of her mouth when he kissed her. In some way, she would always be his.
"I don't know," Julia responded honestly. It didn't make sense. There was no reason for James to be kind to her, except that it was in his nature. She had known the kindness in him years ago when they were lovers, and she knew that had not changed. She had seen it in him when he delivered Sarah's stillborn baby. "I—it's hard for me to take a favor."
"You are the one who would be doing me a favor. I've needed an assistant for months."
Could she work with him and not fall in love with him again? A grown woman ought to be able to control her feelings, Julia thought. How could she refuse? How could she throw away a home for her children and work that she would love? It was a dream come true, something so good she would never even have thought to wish for it.
"Yes," she said softly, afraid to look at James. "I'd like to do it, very much—as long as you're sure that's what you want."
"I'm sure." He was too sure, James thought; it scared him how much he wanted it.
"All right." Julia looked up at him then and smiled. Her smile tore right through him, as it always had.
James smiled back, aware of an urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He would have to be careful around her in the future, he thought, or this could turn out to be the worst mistake of his life.
Chapter 9
Luke and Sarah reacted much as Julia expected when she told them she was going to work for James Banks.
Luke scowled and jumped up from his chair. "Absolutely not! What in the hell are you thinking of? You can't work for that man!"
Sarah looked surprised and hurt. "Are you unhappy with us?"
Julia sighed. "No, I'm not unhappy. Please don't think that. No one could ask for a kinder sister-in-law than you, Sarah. I've been very happy here. But I want the children to have a home of their own."
"Your home's with us," Luke put in.
"You were kind to take me in, and don't think I'm not grateful. But it's time for me to be on my own."
"There's no need for it."
"I think there is."
"Well, you don't have to work for Jimmy Banks!"
"Would you rather I cleaned someone's house or took in laundry?" Julia asked her brother exasperatedly. "That's what I was planning to do until Dr. Banks offered me this."
"No, of course I don't want you cleaning some rich woman's house! I don't want you to work, period."
"Dr. Banks is paying me a generous salary, more than I could earn doing anything else, as well as giving me the use of a house."
Luke's brows drew together thunderously. "Good God, Julie, are you blind? Can't you see what he's doing?"
"I see that he's being very kind."
"He's 'being kind' to himself. He means to obligate you. He might as well have declared that you're his mistress— setting you up in a house, paying you."
"Luke! That's a terrible thing to say to Julia!"
"I'm saying what everyone else will think. What Banks will do his best to make a reality."
"You're wrong!" Julia cried. "He won't. He wouldn't think of it."
"Like hell. Any man would think of it."
"He swore to me—"
"Oh, that's wonderful. You believe the promises of the man who seduced you before?"
"Luke!" Sarah protested.
Luke pressed his lips together and stared down at the floor, pushing his anger back under control. "I'm sorry." He looked up at Julia. "I just don't want you to make a mistake."
"Sarah, do you mind if I talk to Luke alone for a moment?"
"No, of course not." Sarah had always thought Luke and Julia were alike in coloring, but never before had she seen Julia's face set in the same angry, stubborn lines that Luke's could assume. She wouldn't have thought it possible—until now. Julia's arms were crossed, her jaw set, and her eyes were alight with a cold blue fire. She looked a match for Luke. Sarah smiled to herself and left the room.
"I want to set something straight with you," Julia began in a low tone, her voice trembling with anger. "Jimmy did not seduce me. I went into it with my eyes wide open; I knew exactly what I was doing."
"He took advantage of you, and he'll do it again if you give him half a chance."
"You're wrong. Even if you weren't, you have no right to interfere. I'm a grown woman, Luke. I make my own decisions."
"Julie, this is insane. There's no reason for you to leave here. You don't have to hire yourself out to anyone. Sarah and I both want you here."
"Maybe you do. But you don't need me here. Just the opposite. There's something wrong between you and your wife. I'm not asking what; I don't want to pry into your personal affairs. But I know you'll work it out easier if you don't have an extra woman and two kids around."