by Irene Hannon
“I think we’d better head back or we might be marooned here. Not that I’d mind, you understand, but I think you need to change into some dry clothes and get some rest.”
“You’re right.” She started to push the door open, then turned back to him. “By the way, you never did tell me how you happened to be out here today. It’s not a well-traveled route.”
He gripped the wheel. “Dad and I had an argument. Again. I decided to go for a drive until I cooled down, and this road caught my eye. Lucky for you, I guess.”
“I take it things haven’t improved much in the last week between you two?”
“That would be a fair assumption.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
He shrugged. “We’ll just have to work it out between the two of us. But I appreciate your concern.”
“Well, tell Pop I said hi. And thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome. Now go home and get some rest.”
“I’ll try, although I do have a business to run. But Eileen—you met her the night Allison was in the hospital, remember?—she comes by to fill in when we need someone, and she helps with the cleaning every day for a couple of hours. So I don’t have to do much when I get home. Since I don’t take guests on Sunday night, I’ll actually be a lady of leisure until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good. Take advantage of it. The best way to fight a virus is to rest.”
“Aye, aye, Doctor.” She gave him a mock salute.
“Hey, I learned a lot in the navy. One of my best buddies was a medic.” He reached across to push her door open, and as his arm brushed against hers her heart lurched.
“I’ll follow you until we get to the main road. And don’t worry about my problems. I’ll deal with the situation. I’m sure you have enough problems of your own to handle.”
He was right, she conceded, as she dashed through the rain to her own car. She did have her own problems.
And a glance into the rearview mirror revealed her biggest one.
With a sinking feeling, Maggie played back the answering machine again. As she listened a second time, her spirits nose-dived. Eileen had the flu, too, and wasn’t going to be able to come over in the morning to help with the cleaning.
Maggie hit the erase button and pushed her hair back from her face. This had most definitely not been a good day. A flat tire, a flu bug and four guest rooms plus the cottage to clean before two o’clock tomorrow. If the twins were here it would be manageable. But they had signed up months ago to volunteer for a week at a camp for disadvantaged children, and they wouldn’t be home until tomorrow afternoon. Which meant the housecleaning chores fell squarely on her shoulders.
She trudged into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, detouring for two aspirin on the way. For the most part, she was able to overlook minor aches and pains and work right through normal fatigue. But this was different. She had a feeling if she didn’t lay down, she might fall down. Maybe Jake was right. A little rest might help. Perhaps if she gave herself an hour or two she’d feel good enough to tackle a couple of the rooms tonight. Then she could finish up in the morning.
Maggie dragged her protesting body up to the third floor, which had been divided into two dormer bedrooms—one for her, one for the girls. She sank down onto her bed, too tired even to remove her shoes as she stretched out. The twins would give her a hard time about that, if they were here. She’d always been a stickler about keeping shoes off beds and furniture.
But the thought didn’t linger long. In less than fifteen seconds she drifted into oblivion.
As consciousness slowly returned, Maggie lifted her heavy eyelids and stared at the ceiling, disoriented. Then she turned her head to look at the clock on her bedside table. When it came into focus at last, she frowned. Eight o’clock? She’d slept for two hours? But no, the light coming in the window wasn’t right. It was at the wrong angle.
With a sudden jolt, the truth hit home. It was morning!
Propelled by panic, she sat up quickly, and swung her legs to the floor. Too quickly, the room tilted, and she dropped her head into her hands as she waited for everything to stop spinning.
The sudden ringing of the phone on her nightstand made her jump, and she groped for the receiver with one hand.
“Hel…” Her voice came out in a croak and she tried again. “Hello?”
“Maggie? Is that you?”
“Yes.” she cleared her throat. “Hi, Jake.”
She could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound awful.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“How are you feeling?”
Bad. The numbing lethargy still had a grip on her body, and her aches hadn’t dissipated much, if at all. But she tried for a nonchalant tone. “I’ll live. It’s just a flu bug or something. And in this business there are no sick days. The guests just keep coming.” She reached for a tissue and tried to discreetly blow her nose.
“I never thought about that. The few times I was under the weather in the navy I just went on sick call.”
“Lucky you.”
“Yeah, but the girls can help, too, can’t they?”
There was no way to avoid such a direct question. “They could if they were here. But they’ve been gone all week and won’t be back until late this afternoon. So I’m the official greeter today.”
“Your cleaning woman is coming today, though, isn’t she?”
“Monday is one of her regular days to come,” Maggie hedged.
“Well, try to take it easy, okay?”
“I’ll try.” But no matter how hard she tried, the house still had to be cleaned. It was a daunting task when she was well; “impossible” was a more appropriate descriptor today, considering how she felt. But she’d manage somehow. She always did.
“I’ll check back with you later.”
“Okay. Thanks for calling, Jake.”
Slowly she replaced the receiver. Then, summoning all her reserves of energy, she forced herself to stand. At least she was already dressed.
Hands gripping the railing, she made her way unsteadily down the stairs to the utility closet. You can do this. The girls will be back to help later today. Just make it through the next few hours, take it one room at a time, and you’ll be fine.
And with that she reached for the mop.
By the time Maggie started on the third room, she was on autopilot. She went through the motions mindlessly, every movement more of an effort than the last. In fact, she was so out of it that it took several rings before she realized someone was at her front door. Her eyes widened in panic as she stiffly descended the steps. Please, not a guest. Not yet. Not this early.
This time her prayers were answered. When she swung the door open, she found Jake, not a guest.
After one swift, assessing glance he took her arm and ushered her inside, forcing her to sit in the closest chair before he knelt beside her. He put his cool hand on her forehead. Bliss. But he didn’t look happy.
“What are you doing with that mop?”
“Cleaning.”
“What happened to Eileen?”
“She has the bug, too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
“What good would that have done?”
He ignored that comment. “Have you called the doctor?”
“It’s just a bug, Jake. Something’s been going around. I guess it was my turn. I’ll be okay.”
Ignoring that comment, he stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. You’re going back to bed.”
She shook her head. “Jake, you don’t understand. I have ten guests arriving this afternoon beginning at two o’clock. I’ve only cleaned two of the four rooms and I still have the cottage to do. I’ll barely make it as it is. I can’t lay down now.”
“Maggie, you’re sick. You should never have gotten up today in the first place.”
She sighed, blinking away the tears of weariness that sprang to her eyes. “Jake, try to und
erstand. Eileen and the girls are my only backup. There isn’t anyone else I can call.”
“Yes, there is.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Who?”
“Me. I learned to wield a pretty mean mop in the navy. They don’t tolerate slobs, you know.” He flashed her a brief grin.
She stared at him. Jake West cleaning a house? It was incomprehensible. As she recalled, he had always put housekeeping duties on a par with going to the dentist.
Once again, he read her mind.
“Don’t look so shocked. Times change. People change. You can trust me to do a good job. I promise your guests won’t complain.”
“It’s not that…” She was still having a hard time comprehending his generous offer. And even if he was sincere, it was too much to ask. “Jake, I can’t let you do my work. It’s not right. And don’t give me that good deed business. This goes way above and beyond that.”
He crouched down beside her once again, his warm, brown eyes level with hers, and took her cold hand in his. “Maggie, I want to do this, okay? You’re sick. You’ll only get sicker if you push yourself.” He paused a moment, then took a deep breath. “Look, I know that you’re still trying to grapple with this whole situation between us. To be honest, so am I. But fate, or whatever you care to call it, brought us back together. I don’t know why. But at the bare minimum I’d like to be your friend—whatever that takes, and despite the fact that I don’t deserve it. And friends take care of each other. Let me take care of you today, Maggie. As a friend.”
She listened to Jake’s heartfelt speech in silence, unable to doubt the sincerity in his eyes—or ignore the tenderness. He cared for her, that was clear. And she was beginning to care for him again. She didn’t want to. She told herself it was unwise. That it was risky, that she could get hurt again. But she couldn’t help it. Because the Jake that had walked back into her life not only had all the good qualities she remembered, he had become even better. Under other circumstances, he was the kind of man she could easily fall in love with. There was nothing in his present behavior to make her cautious. It was his past behavior that worried her. His track record wasn’t good. And that made her very cautious. Her wariness wasn’t something that could be overcome in a week, or a month, or maybe even a year. She’d been burned once before by this man and left with scars—plus a very real fear of fire.
Jake waited. He didn’t want to push himself on her, but he’d already decided he wasn’t going to walk away and let her face the housecleaning task alone. If necessary, he would insist—and deal with the consequences later. But he hoped she would just accept her limitations and be sensible.
At last, much to his relief, he heard her soft sigh of capitulation.
“All right. Thank you. To be honest, I—I’m not sure I could have made it anyway.”
Considering how she prided herself on her self-reliance, Jake knew she must be a whole lot sicker than she was letting on, to admit that she wasn’t able to handle the task in front of her. Once more he stood and reached for her hands, drawing her to her feet. He put his arm around her shoulders, and as they ascended the stairs she leaned on him heavily—another indication of her weakened physical state. No way would she lean on him—literally or figuratively—unless she was in bad shape.
He paused at the landing, giving her a chance to catch her breath. “Where’s your room?”
She nodded toward the back stairway at the end of the hall. “Third floor.”
By the time they made it up the much narrower stairway to her bedroom, he could feel her quivering. They passed an open door that revealed a spacious, bright dormer room with two twin beds. The twins’ domain, he concluded with a smile, noting the posters of the girls’ latest movie heartthrobs.
Maggie’s room was much smaller, squeezed under the eaves near the front of the house. It was very simply furnished and decorated, as if she’d poured all of her attention into the rest of the house and not bothered with her own little piece of it.
As he gently eased her down onto the narrow twin bed, his throat contracted with tenderness and admiration for this woman who had struggled against all odds to overcome traumas and challenges that would have overwhelmed most people. Jake didn’t know where she had found the strength to face each day, especially in those early years. Yet she had.
But how had she managed emotionally? Maggie had so much love to give. Had it all been directed to the girls? He suspected so. As he tucked the covers around her shoulders, the single bed in the small attic room spoke more eloquently than words of her solitary state. He started to speak, then realized that she had already fallen asleep. Reaching down, he leaned close to brush a wisp of hair off her forehead, his fingers dropping to linger on her cheek. As he gazed at her pale face, a fierce surge of protectiveness washed over him.
Ever since their paths had crossed, Jake had felt drawn to the woman who had once, long ago, claimed his heart. At first, he’d looked upon their reunion as a chance to at last find a way to ease the guilt that had plagued him for so long. Only a few minutes ago, he’d told Maggie he hoped they could be friends. But now, as he stood beside her, he knew that his interest wasn’t motivated by guilt, and that his feelings went far beyond friendship.
He loved her. It was as simple—and as complicated—as that.
As he gazed down at her, he thought of the Maggie he’d once loved. All the essential qualities he’d cherished were still there. But she’d changed, too. And he found that he loved the new Maggie, with her self-reliance and confidence and decisive manner, even more than he had loved the dependent young woman who had deferred to his every decision. He liked her grit and her spunk and her strength—and her soft heart, which hadn’t changed one iota.
Jake walked slowly to the door, pausing at the threshold to glance back once more at Maggie’s sleeping form. She was quite a woman. And she deserved a man who would love her and stand by her no matter what, who believed in honoring commitments and wasn’t afraid of responsibility, who could be counted on to stand with her through good times and bad.
Jake had failed her once on that score. But he never would again.
The question was, how could he convince her of that?
Jake didn’t have the answer. But he knew one thing with absolute certainty. He would find a way. Because suddenly a future without Maggie was not something he was willing to consider.
Chapter Seven
“See, Allison, I told you it was him!”
Abby’s triumphant voice heralded the arrival of the twins at the kitchen door, and Jake glanced up from the pot he was stirring to grin at them. “Hello, ladies.”
They simultaneously dumped their knapsacks on the floor and joined him.
“What are you doing here?” Abby peeked into the pot. “And where’s Aunt Maggie?”
“She’s in bed with the flu. I’m making her some soup.”
“You’re cooking?” Allison was clearly impressed. Jake’s lips twitched. “I don’t think heating up a can of soup qualifies as cooking.”
“How sick is she?” Abby propped a hip against the counter and frowned.
“Pretty sick.”
“Where’s Eileen?”
“She’s got the same bug.”
“But…but what about the cleaning?” Allison asked in alarm. “What will we tell the guests when they arrive?”
“The guests have already arrived and they’re all settled in.” Jake transferred the soup to a bowl and put it on a tray. “Your aunt started the cleaning, and I finished up.”
“You mean…you mean you helped clean the rooms?” Abby’s eyes widened.
Jake gave them a look of mock indignation. “Don’t you think I’m capable of wielding a mop and broom?”
“It’s not that,” Allison said quickly. “It’s just that…well, guys don’t usually offer to pitch in on stuff like that.”
“Well, let me tell you ladies a little secret,” Jake dropped his voice and leaned close. “Men know how to clean. They j
ust pretend they don’t. So keep that in mind whenever you meet Mr. Right.”
“I bet you had trouble convincing Aunt Maggie to let you help,” Allison speculated.
“A little. But I can be very persuasive.” He winked at them.
Abby bit her lower lip. “Gosh, she must be really sick if she gave in and went to bed.”
“It’s just the flu.” Jake added a cup of tea and some crackers to the tray. “But she’s probably not going to have a whole lot of energy for a few days. Do you think you two can pick up the slack?”
“Sure. No problem. This is our summer job, anyway. We’ll just put in a little overtime. Aunt Maggie’s done it often enough for us.”
They were good kids, Jake reflected. Maggie had raised them well. “Great. Now, if you two can get the breakfast preparations under way, I’ll take this up to your aunt.”
The twins watched him disappear through the door, then Allison sank down on a convenient chair and sighed. “Wow! Talk about Sir Galahad!”
Abby joined her on an adjacent chair and propped her chin in her hand. “Yeah.”
There was silence for a moment while they both mulled over this latest turn of events, and then Allison turned to her sister. “Do you think maybe something might come of this after all? I mean, I know Aunt Maggie keeps saying that their relationship is in the past and all that, but how many guys would clean toilets for a woman they don’t care about?”
“I think it has some very interesting possibilities.” Abby’s expression grew thoughtful. “I think Aunt Maggie still cares, too. She just won’t admit it—to us or herself. But maybe we can find a way to give her a nudge.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Abby smiled smugly. “As a matter of fact…I have a plan.”
Jake eased Maggie’s door open with one shoulder and cast a worried glance toward the bed. He’d checked on her a couple of times during the afternoon, and she’d been sleeping soundly. Now, however, she was sitting up, bent over, struggling to tie her shoes.