“We’ll have to eat standing up. As you can see, things are a mess right now.”
“I can help you put things back where they belong. If you want me to.” Please say yes.
“That’d be nice. But first I have four cabinet doors to paint.”
“The ones outside? I can give you a hand with those.” Cool it, Kendall. No need to act like an overeager puppy.
“I won’t say no.” She retrieved plates and bowls from a nearby cabinet. “Sure you don’t want a salad too? The radishes and cucumbers came straight from Shelby’s garden.”
“If you insist.” He put together a sandwich while Amy topped their salads with sunflower seeds. “Did you do all this painting today?”
“The walls yesterday. The woodwork today.” She handed him a glass of iced lemonade. “It wasn’t that hard now that the pool table is gone.”
“You had a pool table in here?”
“Not me, AJ. It sat right there.” She gestured at the empty space beyond the kitchen counter. “Took up that entire corner. He and some of his students moved it out last weekend.”
“Where did they put it?”
“In an outbuilding at Gran’s. I mean at AJ’s. Where he lives now.”
“Your grandmother hired me to mow her yard when I stayed with Rusty and Tess.” He hoped to see a flicker in her eyes, something, anything, to indicate she remembered those days. But her expression remained downcast.
“It’s not the same,” she said wistfully. “Not with Gran gone.”
“Places never are like we remember them.” He bit into his sandwich, then sipped his drink. “How long did you say you’d been here?”
“Only a week. The lease ended on my apartment, and I decided not to renew. It seemed like a good time to take a break from the city.”
“How do you like living in the country?”
“I’m still adjusting. Just wish I’d gotten the painting done before I moved.”
“Are you planning any other improvements?”
“Depends on how long I stay.” She toyed with her lettuce, moving the leaves around the bowl. “What about you? Any plans?”
“I got a job offer today.”
Her eyes brightened with polite interest. “That’s great,” she said. “Doing what?”
“Not sure. AJ came by this morning. Said he needed help getting ready for some big shindig at Misty Willow. You probably know all about it.”
“I’ve heard talk.”
“You’re not involved?”
“So far I’ve managed to stay away from the planning meetings. But I’ve been asked to play emcee for the formal presentation so I’ll be onstage with all the local dignitaries.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“It’s not that big of a deal, really. Though, all things considered, it was nice to be asked.”
“Considering what things?” He immediately held up his hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be nosy.”
“No, it’s okay.” She focused on her salad, seeming to choose her words with care. “I haven’t always gotten along with Shelby. AJ either, to be honest. Surely your aunt told you about the lawsuit.”
“What lawsuit?”
“Tess really didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
Amy put down her fork, though she hadn’t eaten more than a bite or two.
“Everyone else around here knows, so you may as well too. Before Misty Willow was protected by the foundation, AJ leased it to Shelby. I had other plans for the property so”—she bit her lip and looked him square in the eyes—“I sued them.”
Gabe stared at her in disbelief. “You sued your cousin? And his wife?”
“She wasn’t his wife then. Anyway, all has been forgiven, and to show that to the world, we’ll all be onstage together. One big happy family.”
At least now he knew what Tess wasn’t telling him. She probably hadn’t wanted to say anything else negative about Amy.
“What about you?” she asked. “Will you be at the ‘big shindig’?”
“Looks that way. Tess has an old stagecoach stored in one of the barns. If it’s in good enough shape, we’ll use it to take guests from the house back to the creek.” He proudly poked his chest with his thumb. “You’re looking at the driver.”
“You’re kidding.” This time, her interest appeared genuine, and her bemused smile revealed a slight dimple near her jaw. “A real stagecoach?”
“Are you interested in riding shotgun?” he teased, then held his breath waiting for her answer. Fear and doubt flickered across her face. The doubt he could understand. She probably didn’t want him to think she was interested in him. But what was she afraid of?
8
Amy glanced out the corner window. The freshly painted frame gleamed, but she barely noticed. Why hadn’t she taken the cookies and sent Gabe on his way? Instead, she’d accepted his offer to help her paint the doors, even invited him to a late lunch. Her second one of the day, though he didn’t need to know that.
She’d panicked when he’d offered her a cookie. If he’d offered her poison, she couldn’t have been more repulsed. Instead of being in control, she’d let fear control her.
Face it, she was lonely. Quiet country living wasn’t what she was used to. As much as she wanted to be—needed to be—away from her previous life, she’d gotten used to the hubbub of busy people doing important things.
Nothing important happened out here.
She missed her apartment. The choice to leave it hadn’t been easy, only unavoidable. Poor investments, a party-girl lifestyle, and those months in the clinic had taken their toll on her financial reserves. She wasn’t exactly broke—at least not by most people’s standards—but the luxury apartment was an expense she could no longer afford. Not when she needed time to regroup. To recover.
Gabe cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly.
“Sorry,” she said. “I got lost there for a moment.”
“I shouldn’t have put you on the spot.” He finished his sandwich, eating quickly with no wasted motions. “That was good. I’ll have to return the favor sometime.”
“Do you cook?”
“I make the best chili you’ve ever eaten.”
“Seriously? Chili?”
“Seriously.”
“This isn’t exactly chili weather, so I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Just wait till the next rainy day.”
“It’ll have to be an all-day thunderstorm, the kind where no one wants to leave their house.”
“Next time we have one of those, I’ll be over.”
“Honestly?” She tilted her head, unsure whether to believe him. He sounded serious, but his eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Wait and see.” He didn’t come out and say it, but his tone made it clear this was a kind of dare.
Two could play that game. “You bring the chili, and I’ll make dessert.”
“What kind of dessert?”
“My famous homemade lemon meringue pie.”
“Homemade?”
“My gran’s secret recipe. She won several ribbons at the county fair with her pies, so you know it’s a good one.”
“Makes my mouth water just thinking about it.”
“Then I guess you better hope for a thunderstorm.”
“I’ll pray for one.”
Amy couldn’t help but laugh. If nothing else, the teasing banter had lightened her mood. Though she’d have to remember to check Gran’s recipe and stock up on all the ingredients next time she went into town.
She started to clean up the dishes but then her phone rang. Logan again.
“Do you need to take that?” Gabe asked. “I can step outside.”
“It’s nothing important. Besides, I want to get those doors painted.”
“Like I said before, I’m glad to help.”
“If you really want to.” She finished stacking the dishes, then slipped canvas shoes on her bare feet.
Together
they carried the paint and supplies outside. Gabe helped spread a plastic tarp beneath the shade of a trio of silver birches, and they set to work. He’d almost finished his first door before he broke the silence.
“What did you mean earlier?”
“When?”
“You asked me who told me. Told me what?”
She gave a dismissive shrug. “I overreacted. It was nothing.”
“It must be something.”
Amy leaned back on her heels and let the silence of the day surround her. What little traffic traveled this road had its noise masked by the dense hedges that had grown up around the front fence. Hedges so thick and tall that only the locals knew the cottage existed behind the tightly woven branches.
The trees along the lower fence line separating this property from the bungalow rustled in the sun-warmed breeze. Songbirds flitted from branches to electric poles and back again. All was at peace here. Quiet and serene.
She wished her life was the same.
“If you don’t want to tell me,” Gabe said, “I understand. Guess I shouldn’t have asked.”
She let another moment pass, following his movements as he rolled the paint over the paneled door. The luxurious teal glistened with purity and freshness, and his movements were steady and unrushed.
Until he’d spoken, the silence between them had been comfortable and relaxed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so at ease with anyone outside her family. And she wasn’t always congenial with them. Especially since she’d returned from the clinic. Sometimes it seemed they guarded every word, afraid to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Or, like Brett, too often said something to irritate her then wouldn’t stop apologizing. They bent over backward not to upset her, which in itself was so maddening.
Was she really that difficult to be around? That sensitive to every word they spoke to her?
Yes, she was. But she was trying hard not to be. And she’d prove it.
“I have this thing with food,” she said finally, her body tensing as she waited for his reaction.
He rested the roller on the pan. “What kind of thing?”
“The official diagnosis is EDNOS. It means Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified.”
“I’m sorry.”
She studied his face. “I don’t want your sympathy. That’s not why I told you.”
He held her gaze, his eyes soft and gentle but without that pity she hated.
“I’m not starving myself to death. I never even came close.” She hugged one leg close to her chest and rested her chin on her knee. “Closer than a normal person would, I suppose. But I got help before it got too bad.”
“That’s why you were in the clinic?”
“More of a treatment center. In Virginia.”
He barely nodded. She sighed heavily, knowing he said nothing because he didn’t know what to say.
“When I refused a cookie and you said, ‘Not even a small one,’ you sounded so much like Brett.” She shook her head in aggravation. “I thought you were urging me to eat. And I hate when people do that.”
“I was only teasing.”
“I know. I knew it then. But I lost control for a moment.”
“Being at the treatment center has helped, then?”
“I’ve been there twice. I don’t want to ever go back.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“I hope not.” She didn’t think she could endure going through all the protocols and therapies again. Neither did she want to pay for it. A few more weeks at the facility would take the last of her savings.
But even more than that, she longed to be well and healthy.
“We talked a lot about food during lunch,” Gabe said. “If I’d known—”
“You wouldn’t have promised to make me your famous chili?” She forced a lightness she didn’t feel into her tone, then exhaled and turned away. “That’s why I don’t like people to know. They watch what they say and then everyone’s uncomfortable.”
“Only because they care about you.”
“So they say. It’s still annoying.”
“I can imagine.”
“I doubt it.”
“It’s true I don’t know what it’s like to have people monitoring everything I eat. But I know what it’s like for people to be afraid of saying the wrong thing around me.”
“What wrong thing?”
“You really don’t know?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“I should finish this other door first because when I tell you, you’ll want me to leave.”
“Because that’s what everyone else does?”
He shrugged and ran his roller through the tray.
“I’m not like everyone else,” Amy said quietly.
“If there’s only one thing I know about you, it’s that.”
“Is that a compliment or a way to change the subject?”
The lazy smile began its slow movement, as if he knew a secret he held close to his chest. Before it had time to reach the opposite corner of his mouth, he spoke. “Not going to work, huh?”
She leaned forward and turned his face toward hers. She held his gaze, or perhaps he held hers. She wasn’t sure.
“The word people don’t like to say around me is food. What’s your word?”
Without taking his eyes from hers, Gabe rested the roller on the edge of the pan.
“Prison.”
Amy drew back, as if to give space for the word to expand between them. Her fingers slipped from his jaw to her lap.
“Not you.” The words were almost a whisper, spoken quietly but with conviction.
“That’s where I’ve spent the last few years.”
His eyes, alert for each nuance of her expression, never left her face. But she kept her features still as if she meant to prove her claim that she wasn’t like everyone else. Most people asked him why, and for that very reason, he knew she wouldn’t.
She leaned forward, tucking her knee into her chest again. He could still feel the gentle touch of her fingers on his jaw, soft as a butterfly’s wing. Another token to hide away in his heart.
“I’ll finish this door and then I’ll be going.”
“There’s no need to leave.”
“You sure about that? Maybe I’m a serial killer.”
“Serial killers don’t get to leave prison. Do they?”
“Not usually.” He should tell her, get it out in the open. But all criminals claimed their innocence, and no one ever believed them. Besides, he didn’t want to talk about the past. Not on this perfect summer day. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome either.
“All done,” he said as he finished painting the door.
He stood, then reached for Amy. She took his hands without the slightest hesitation, and he pulled her to her feet. They stood, inches apart, as they had that long-ago day at the Hearth. He stared into her eyes, willing her to recall the same memory he did. But all he saw were unasked questions. He gently squeezed her fingers, then let them go.
“Thanks for the second lunch,” he said. “And the company. I enjoyed both.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
“I’ve already stayed longer than I intended.”
“You’re still in prison, aren’t you? One you’ve created for yourself.” A crestfallen expression appeared on her face. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Gabe, I need to . . .”
A light tap from a car horn sounded from the gate. The door opened, and Jonah jumped out. He waved to them, then unlatched the gate and swung it open. After the vehicle pulled through, Jonah closed the gate and ran up the slope toward them.
Whatever Amy intended to say was lost in her obvious delight at Jonah’s arrival.
Couldn’t we have had one more minute, God?
9
Amy’s heart warmed as Jonah raced toward her.
Somehow his joyful exuberance took her back to the sweetest memories of her childhood, when she and Brett played tag and hide-and-seek here on long summer nights. In their innocence, they’d been unprepared for the ugliness they’d be facing as their parents’ arguments led to divorce, shared custody, and manipulative maneuverings. Even as bad as that was, it didn’t compare to the devastating loss they experienced when the plane crash left them, and AJ too, orphaned and alone. The Tragic Trio, the press dubbed them. Ohio’s own poor little rich kids.
But she also wished she’d had more time alone with Gabe. The news that he had been in prison should have shocked her. Instead, she felt a strange conviction he had a good explanation. If they hadn’t been interrupted, he’d have told her everything and she’d have told him the truth—that she had never forgotten that long-ago day at the Hearth. The words they’d said to each other. Their only kiss.
But perhaps it was best she’d been denied the chance by Brett’s arrival. Gabe might have thought she was interested in rekindling their teenage romance. Maybe she was, if only to escape her loneliness. But she doubted he was the type of man to engage in a summer dalliance, and she wasn’t willing to commit to anything long-term. Not when her life was such a mess.
“Hey, Aunt Amy.” Jonah practically tackled her, and she had to brace herself to keep from falling.
“Whoa there, buddy,” Gabe said, helping to steady her. “You gotta be careful with the ladies.”
“Did you bring the cookies, Mr. Gabe?”
“Sure did. They’re inside.”
Without another word, Jonah hurried through the door.
Brett sauntered toward them, and Amy welcomed him with a quick hug. She stood back while he and Gabe greeted each other, and then gestured toward the cottage. “You want to come on in?”
“Sure,” Brett said.
“It’s nice seeing you again, Brett,” Gabe said. “But I should be going.”
“Let me transfer the cookies to another plate first,” Amy said. “Then you can take Tess’s container with you.”
“Okay,” he agreed. But he sounded uncomfortable. Perhaps he felt he was intruding on a family moment. True, Amy wanted to talk to Brett about Jonah’s doctor’s appointment. But she didn’t want Gabe to leave. Not yet.
What Hope Remembers Page 6