Jeb didn’t know how to deal with her fears. She wasn’t just carrying baggage; she was towing heavy freight. Right now, she felt threatened by Mark, and the last thing she needed was to be pressured by Jeb for sex. How in the hell had the subject even come up? He’d started it. Damn it. He was such an ass, nothing like the prince she’d wished for in her messages.
Okay, so I want her. What would it take to make him understand she wasn’t ready, a blow on the head? She needed no more stress. Mark Banning was enough to push almost any woman over the edge into a nervous breakdown.
But somehow Amanda had stood strong. Looking at her, Jeb felt ashamed for adding to her worries. “I told you I’ll wait, and I meant it. No pressure, no expectations, nothing.” Jeb wanted to whack George and could only pray she didn’t glance down. “I’m in no hurry. Let’s just go with the flow and see where it takes us.”
She gave him a pleading look. “I don’t know right now if I’ll ever be ready. But I do care for you in a way I never would have thought possible. You’re everything that Mark isn’t. I don’t know how any woman could spend time with you and not fall in love. I’m sorry I can’t give you more, but I’ve dipped my well dry.”
“I’ll take whatever you can give and be glad of it.” Jeb cleared his throat. “As for Mark, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and Chloe safe. Gowdy says my passwords are now such strings of gibberish that only someone with a special application could hack them. If you end up helping me in the shop, you’ll get a few calluses, and I’ll have a great helper.” He stood and cupped her chin. “We’re going to get through this, Mandy. It may seem to you right now that there’s no end in sight, but I believe God is up there orchestrating events. I think He led you to Mystic Creek so I could find you. We need to trust that everything else will work itself out.”
* * *
Over the next couple of days, Amanda held Jeb’s words close in her heart. He’d done so much for her and Chloe, yet he expected no paybacks. She wasn’t sure when, but she’d come to believe that. Jeb wasn’t a taker or a controller. He knew how to love with no strings attached. She suspected he’d learned that from his wonderful parents.
Amanda had once been able to love without condition. Her mom and dad had taught her how. But that period of her life seemed so distant now, almost beyond her reach. Now that Mark knew where Amanda was, she yearned to call her mom. He’d no longer be watching to pounce on Emma Lang for information. But every time Amanda started to dial her mother, she lost her nerve. During her marriage, it had seemed safer to keep her mom in the dark.
Now the situation had changed, and Amanda would have to find the words to explain all the deceptions. It would be a difficult conversation.
Trying to chase the worries away, Amanda focused on Jeb’s house. A typical guy, he hadn’t washed the baseboards in God knew how long, and his doorframes had dust on top that had gone gooey. His cupboards and kitchen drawers also needed attention.
As she cleaned and found built-up dirt in hidden places, she accepted the fact that Jeb did need her help. The stairway banister hadn’t been nourished with beeswax for a long while. The beautiful wood had grown dry and would soon start to crack if she didn’t take care of it. She had no idea who’d last worked for him, but the person had done a crappy job.
As Amanda treated the wooden trim, she thought of Jeb creating all these surfaces. The finishes had been applied by his big hands. He’d known to add a layer of wax over the stain, but somehow he was clueless about how to care for a masterpiece after he created it. His house needed a woman who would love every nook and cranny. Amanda couldn’t help but wonder if that woman might be her. With each passing day, she felt more drawn to him. She trusted him and enjoyed his company, and her little girl adored him. And most important, he didn’t press her. Why couldn’t she forget Mark and embrace this opportunity with Jeb?
Jeb noticed her housekeeping efforts and thanked her. “I just never seem to find time. I know I’m neglecting stuff.”
Amanda replied, “Your work is beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I enjoy the artistic aspects of it, which is why I don’t hire out anymore to a home builder as a cabinet-and-trim man. I learned the hard way that most contractors have two or three house plans, and making cookie-cutter cabinets, with slight variations, bored me to death. Now I accept only custom jobs, which allows me to use my imagination. People who pay me to make cabinets deserve a bang for their buck, and I try to give them that.”
“I’ve found some pieces of furniture in this house that scream ‘Jeb Sterling.’ Am I wrong about that?”
He laughed. “My sofas and easy chairs are run-of-the-mill furnishings, but all the wooden pieces in this joint are handcrafted.”
They joined Chloe at the kitchen table, helping with her lessons when needed and chatting in between. Jeb had worked indoors for the last couple of days on his computer, creating new furniture designs and never leaving Amanda and Chloe alone in the house. As they talked about his business, and he spoke about this project or that one, Amanda enjoyed the expressions on his face. He truly loved what he did for a living.
“Not many people can say that,” he told her. “Well, maybe Tony across the road. He loves farming. I swear, that man’s having an affair with his tractor. He’s even named her Betsy.”
Amanda had never met Myrna Bradley, but she knew that the older woman had a heart of gold. “Is he so obsessed with his tractor and farming that he neglects his wife?”
“No. Myrna is passionate about her little house and yard, so she stays as busy as Tony does. She keeps telling him to replace Betsy, but he just keeps fixing her.”
“Why do men refer to vehicles and equipment as females?”
Jeb chuckled. “Good question. I can only say it didn’t start with me.”
“Well, I’m glad to know Tony and Myrna are happy.”
Amanda envied Myrna. As that thought settled into her brain, she realized she was developing a passion for Jeb’s home and felt excited about other things as well. “I want to make Christmas balls and sell them,” she suddenly said.
Chloe’s head jerked up. Jeb arched an eyebrow and said, “Uh-oh, my mom is a contagious disease.”
Amanda smiled. Kate’s enthusiasm was contagious. “Can I have a small corner of your house to set up a worktable where there will always be a mess? I’d like to create things, just like you do, but I’ll understand if you say no.”
He leaned back on his chair. “Mandy, I’ve got a separate room in my shop, and the place is wired for security. If you want to do arts and crafts, and you can keep Chloe interested, that’s a perfect solution. While I work, you can work. I think it’d be good for you, and with the alarm set, I can focus on my projects without constantly watching the doors.”
Melting warmth moved through Amanda. He truly didn’t care if her focus wasn’t on only him. For her, that was such a marvel. “I think I can make some money. Your mom says she sells the balls for a huge profit at the Christmas bazaars, but if I knew how to set up a Web site, I could sell them all year long.”
He searched her gaze. “Sounds like a plan to me. I have a Web site development app. I created a page for my business, and I get many orders. I don’t see why I can’t do the same for you. I’ll need pictures of your merchandise, though, so you need to get to work.”
Amanda lurched to a stop in her dreaming. “I can’t spend too much time on crafts. I’ll have the house to take care of, plus meals and cleanup.” She shrugged. “If I keep my cafeteria job, my schedule will be packed.”
He leaned forward. “Earth calling Mandy. Where have you been in this relationship? I’ve moved way past thinking of you as my employee.”
“We don’t have a relationship yet.”
Jeb shook his head. “We do have a relationship. You just don’t want to face it. I’m good with that, but the bonds forging between us are no less
real. As for your cafeteria job, just quit. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before it’s safe for you and Chloe to be at the school. It isn’t fair to make Delores work shorthanded for too long.”
“I think you can make more money selling Christmas tree balls, Mommy.” Chloe grinned. “I can help. I’m really good at it.”
“Chloe has to go back to school eventually,” Amanda insisted. “She’ll fall behind.”
“Until we’re sure it’s safe, we’ll homeschool her. Oregon has fabulous online education.”
“Yay! I’d like to do homeschool and make Christmas balls with Mommy.”
Jeb tousled the child’s hair.
“What about your friends, Chloe?” Amanda asked.
“We’ll have playdates! I’ll see my friends a lot!”
Jeb held out his hand and asked for Amanda’s cell phone. When she handed it over, he loaded an app called OpenEye. To Amanda’s amazement, she suddenly had a duplicate of the house monitors, which all showed the same camera views, on her iPhone. Because the screen was small, she had to scroll through the panes to see everything, but it was there, and it was live. On her cell, she saw Bozo lift a hind leg to scratch, and when she glanced down, he was flapping one ear with a back paw.
“Gowdy showed me how to load that the other day,” Jeb said.
“This is awesome. I’ll be able to see the whole house, inside and out, even while I’m cleaning a bathroom. It’ll be like having a big monitor in my pocket.”
As Amanda moved from the table into the kitchen to start dinner, she thought about how quickly the three of them had started to act as if they were a real family. It felt good. Even better, it felt right.
* * *
On Monday before Thanksgiving, Amanda’s attorney called. Jeb drew her into the living room and put the lawyer on speakerphone. Judging by what Clyde Johnson said, Amanda determined that Jeb had notified him of Mark’s break-in. Why she hadn’t thought to do that, she didn’t know. He was her attorney and Chloe’s only hope, but he wasn’t her friend. When bad things happened, she didn’t think of him as someone she should call. She needed to get over that, accept him for who he was, brusqueness and all, and depend on him. Jeb was certainly paying him enough to be attentive and available.
“The good news is that Mark hasn’t filed for divorce,” Johnson told them. “The bad news is that after he was held for a few days in Eureka on the charges filed against him, his lawyer got him out on bail today. The photographic evidence is strong, but none of the pictures shows Mark inflicting the injuries. Until the judge hears Amanda’s testimony, she’s reluctant to make a decision. I’m still pushing for an early date for the divorce hearing. Because Amanda filed in this county, that hearing will take place here. Mark’s attorney argues that the couple lived in California, and he’s screaming for a change of venue, but he isn’t likely to get it.”
“How does it benefit him to have the hearing in Eureka?” Jeb asked. “I don’t get why his lawyer is fighting for that.”
“Some attorneys believe venue is important—that a local judge may lend Amanda a more sympathetic ear. In small towns, it’s assumed everybody knows everybody, although that’s seldom true. Most judges strive to be unbiased, but many attorneys still prefer a home hearing because the presiding judge knows them. They feel it gives them an edge.”
Amanda wasn’t surprised that Mark hadn’t remained in jail, but she could tell that Jeb was worried. The stark reality suddenly hit her. Mark is loose again, and he knows where I am. Nausea washed over her. She ran to the bathroom and vomited to a dry heave, leaving her face flushed and clammy.
Jeb tapped on the door. Amanda grabbed a washcloth to wipe her mouth. “I’m fine. Sorry. I must have eaten something tainted.”
Eaten something tainted? She’d married something tainted.
Feeling weak, Amanda stared at her reflection in the mirror and saw a trembling, inadequate, miserable woman who should have some backbone. She needed to pull herself together, get some steel in her spine, and forget the images of herself that Mark had drawn for her.
When she left the bathroom, she found Jeb standing just outside. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she replied, feeling stronger and braver without knowing exactly why. “What else did Johnson have to say?”
“He spoke with the judge who let Mark out on bail.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “It’s probably more accurate to say that he gave her hell. She told him she’d had to consider the distance Mark must travel to get here. The letter, supposedly from you, indicates that you invited him here the night he broke in and clouds the issue of the restraining order. She also said that as strong as the photographic evidence is, no picture shows Mark actually committing the violence. In short, she needs to hear your testimony before she makes a judgment, and she didn’t feel it was fair to keep a possibly innocent man behind bars until the trial, which could be months from now. She warned Mark that the consequences will be severe if he returns to Mystic Creek, but that was all she could really do.”
“So we’re screwed.”
“If he comes back here, he’ll be the one who’s screwed.”
Amanda reached deep for strength. “You’re right. I should flip things around and think optimistically.”
“We need to keep an eye out and never let our guard down, though. Johnson has dealt with a lot of Marks. He says they rarely turn over a new leaf, and they become addicted to violence. Mark sees himself as invincible, and he has no internal brakes. He doesn’t consider the risk of going to prison. In his mind, he’s right, and the whole world will see that in the end.”
“That sounds like Mark. Johnson has him pegged.”
Jeb’s phone chirped. He drew it from his pocket and smiled as he read a text message. “My dad,” he told her. “He’s got Gowdy over at his place installing security so you and Chloe will be safe there on Thanksgiving.”
“We’re invited?”
“Of course you’re invited. And it’ll be fun. With all the Sterlings under one roof, it’s a madhouse.”
“Jeb, I’ve been thinking—I need a holster for the Magnum. I’d like to start wearing it most of the time so I don’t get caught off guard.”
His gaze bored into hers, but he asked no questions. “Okay. I’ll get you one.”
“You don’t think I’m nuts?”
“No, I think you’re finally ready to fight back, and that’s a good thing.”
“No matter where I am in the house, I need to be armed. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but Mark will try again.”
“I know, and being prepared is the smart thing to do.”
“I need you to promise me something.”
“What’s that?”
“If anything happens to me, will you raise Chloe? I’ve got my mom, but she’s a bit old to take on a six-year-old.”
His jaw muscle started to tic, and for an awful moment, Amanda thought he might say no. “I’m honored that you trust me enough to ask, and my answer is yes. But just for the record, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Amanda realized that Jeb still felt guilty about his one failure to protect them, and she regretted making him remember. But facts were facts. Mark mainly wanted to make her pay. Chloe had only ever been a weapon he used against her. Amanda knew that in the end, she might wind up dead. She needed to know that if that happened, Chloe would have a wonderful life.
And Jeb was her only hope.
* * *
Kate Sterling called the next morning to officially invite Amanda and Chloe to Thanksgiving dinner.
“I’m sure Chloe would love it,” Amanda said. “But traditionally, it’s a time for family.”
“Nonsense,” Kate replied. “For us, the more, the merrier.”
“Then I accept,” Amanda conceded. “But please let me bring something for dinner.”
&n
bsp; Kate laughed. “My boys say your homemade bread is fabulous. My oven will be otherwise occupied. I’m baking pies today, and tomorrow, heaven knows.”
Amanda agreed to bring bread and then had misgivings the moment she hung up. What if her loaves fell? The rising stage could be tricky. Jeb chuckled when she told him how nervous she felt.
“There’ll be so much food, they’ll never miss the bread if something goes wrong. Don’t worry about it. It’s supposed to be a happy time.”
And it was a happy time. Amanda’s bread turned out perfect, and she enjoyed the gathering. Jeb’s sisters, Adriel and Sarah, whom Amanda was meeting for the first time, were delightful and instantly took Chloe under their wings. Both girls had Kate’s delicate features and build, along with her energy, but they had inherited their father’s tawny hair. Amanda admired how the entire family pitched in to cook. Even the men got involved. Kate had a no-television rule on holidays. Sporting events, she maintained, could be recorded. Ten people sat down for dinner.
The only sadness for Amanda that day came from knowing her mom was probably celebrating alone. She sneaked off to a bedroom, collected her courage, and dialed the number to her childhood home. No answer. Was her mom working or possibly at a friend’s house? She hoped for the latter.
On the Friday after Thanksgiving, Jeb took Amanda, Chloe, and Bozo out to find a Christmas tree. Jeb wore a holstered Glock on his hip, and Amanda carried the Magnum on hers. She’d never gone into the forest for a tree, but with their warm winter outerwear, both she and Chloe enjoyed the activity, trudging through deep, crusty snow to find a blue spruce they all deemed perfect. When that mission was accomplished, they searched for a second gorgeous tree that Jeb would drop off at his parents’ place on the way home.
Chloe kept clapping her hands and saying, “Yay! That’s the prettiest tree ever, Mr. Jeb!” When Jeb began putting tags on the evergreens, Chloe asked, “What do the tickets mean?”
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