скачать книгу бесплатно
Thinking it might help Chrissy, J.C. decided to drive by his sister’s house. Although he kept putting it off, he needed to sort through the house, make it livable again. Maybe Chrissy would settle down if she could live in her home again. He didn’t mind giving up his tiny apartment; it was just a place to sleep really.
Turning on Magnolia Avenue, he saw Chrissy straighten up.
Pleased she was finally showing interest in something, he pulled into the driveway.
As soon as he turned off the vehicle, Chrissy began shrieking.
“No! I won’t go in! No! No!” Sobs erupted and tears flooded her cheeks. “You can’t make me!”
Horrified, J.C. tried to calm her. “What is it, Chrissy?”
“The house killed them!” She blurted out between staggered sobs.
Her distress was so intense J.C. didn’t try to reason with her. Instead, he quickly backed out of the driveway, then sped from the neighborhood. Once past the familiar streets, he pulled into a space in front of the park. Unhooking his own seat belt and then Chrissy’s, he gently guided her from the car to a bench beneath a large oak.
Still shaking from the remaining gulps of tears, she allowed him to drape an arm over her shoulders. When she was tiny, he would have popped her in his lap, pulled a dozen silly faces and made her giggle. He felt completely ill-equipped to comfort her now.
Patting her arm, he waited until the last of her hiccupping gulps trailed to an end. “I’m sorry, Chrissy. I wouldn’t have gone to the house if I’d known it would upset you.” He paused. “I was hoping it would make you feel better.”
She shook her head so hard that her light brown hair flew unchecked from side to side. “I never, ever want to go there again.”
“After some time—”
“Never!” she exclaimed. Her lips wobbled and a few new tears mixed with the wash of others on her cheeks.
J.C. patted her knee. “I thought you might like to live there again, get out of my scruffy apartment.”
“No!” she cried again, burying her face against his shoulder. “I can’t!”
J.C. imagined he could hear the child’s heart actually breaking. “Then you won’t.” He would have the contents packed for storage, then rent out the house in case she changed her mind later. “And if it starts bothering you, we won’t go by the print building, either.”
Chrissy pulled back a bit so she could look at him. “It’s not the same.”
“No?”
“Daddy’s work didn’t hurt them. It was the house.”
Logic wasn’t a factor. Just the raw feelings of a wounded child.
“Okay, then.”
“We could move in there,” she suggested hopefully. “To Daddy’s work.”
The first floor of the building had been occupied by the business. And there were two apartments above it. Jay’s parents had lived in one until they passed away.
“No one’s lived in those apartments for a while,” he explained. More important, they wouldn’t have any immediate neighbors. Even though his bachelor apartment was small, at least in his complex, Chrissy was surrounded by people. He didn’t like the idea of her being alone in a big building on Main Street when he had to make night calls at the hospital. A few proprietors lived above their businesses, but not in the building next to them. And the Wagner Hill House was on a corner next to a side street that bisected Main, so there wasn’t a second adjoining neighbor.
“We could fix up the apartment,” Chrissy beseeched, kicking her feet back, dragging them through the grass. “And live on top of Daddy’s print shop.” The apartment was above the business on the second floor, but he knew what she meant.
Blair, a nurse who worked at the hospital, lived in his apartment complex and so far J.C. had asked her to listen for Chrissy when he had to leave her. But it wasn’t a comfortable situation. He worried the entire time he was away. What if Chrissy woke up and was scared? What if there was a fire? The possibilities were endless. But he couldn’t hire live-in help to share their small space. As it was, he was camping out on the sofa so Chrissy could have the only bedroom.
And babysitters weren’t pleased to be phoned in the middle of the night. The few who had reluctantly responded once didn’t respond again. Not that J.C. blamed them. Who wanted to get up at two or three in the morning to babysit, not knowing if they would have to stay an hour or the rest of the night? What they really needed was sort of a combination housekeeper and nanny who lived in. But Chrissy had run off every single one he had hired, resenting anyone she thought was trying to take her mother’s place.
“I’m afraid we can’t live in the Main Street building.”
Chrissy sniffled. “Then are we going to stay in your apartment?”
J.C. glanced up at the cloudless sky. Rosewood’s tranquility had always been a peaceful balm. But now he wasn’t certain there could be peace anywhere. Lord, we need your help. Chrissy deserves more than just me. Please help us find the answer.
Sighing, Chrissy leaned her head against his arm, her soft weight slumping dispiritedly.
Please, Lord.
Chapter Two
Maddie pulled one of her numerous tins of tea from a shelf in the pantry. “Sure you don’t have a preference?”
Samantha Conway, Maddie’s best friend and one-time neighbor, shrugged. “Surprise me. How many blends have you made now? One hundred?”
“Afraid not.” She placed the tin on the table. “I have ideas for twice that many and space for less than thirty.” Collecting two porcelain cups and saucers she added them to the table.
“So, did your mother like J.C.?” Samantha questioned.
“You were right all along. I should have taken her sooner,” Maddie admitted. Samantha had raved about J.C. ever since he successfully treated her paralysis. Now Samantha walked with only a cane. She had been urging Maddie to see him about Lillian’s worsening symptoms long before their G.P. had made his recommendation. “He’s already ordered new tests and altered her medications.” Swallowing, Maddie remembered the touch of his hand when he gave her the slip of paper.
“Earth to Maddie,” Samantha repeated. “Something on your mind?”
“Of course not.” Trying to sideline her friend’s curiosity, Maddie got up and retrieved the electric kettle. Pouring water into their cups, she set the kettle on a trivet.
“Um, I hate to complain,” Samantha began, “but we don’t have any tea in our cups.”
Maddie shook her face in tiny rapid nods. “Where’s my head?” Because she used loose tea leaves to make her own private blends, she also used individual cup strainers. She put one on each of their cups, then added a scoop of tea leaves. She’d made so much tea over the years that she didn’t need to measure the amount.
Samantha fiddled with her cup. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Why?”
“For one, the strainer’s sitting over the water, so I’m guessing the tea leaves aren’t actually wet and …” She looked intensely at her friend. “The water’s cold.”
“Cold?” Maddie frowned. “It can’t be cold. I just got it from the kettle.” Poking her finger in the cup, she expected a hot jolt. Cold water and limp tea leaves. Great. “I hope the kettle’s not broken.” But as she checked the adjustments and made sure the base was plugged in, Maddie couldn’t remember if she’d actually pushed the On button.
“Okay, give,” Samantha urged. “You forgot to put the tea in the tea? And then you forgot to turn on the kettle? That’s not like you.”
“I suppose it’s been a stressful day.” She recounted the mishap with the morning bath water, how flustered she’d been trying to get them to the appointment on time. “I felt like my accelerator was stuck,” she explained. “Filling in all the forms like a maniac as fast as I could, trying not to cause more delay …”
Samantha leaned back, studying her. “Just the letdown after an adrenaline rush?”
“I suppose so.”
“Funny. You have at least one crisis a week with Lillian, but you’ve never offered me a cold cup of water that hasn’t even swum close to a tea leaf.”
Maddie waved her hands. “Then I’m having an off day.”
“You haven’t told me what you thought of J.C.”
Maddie willed the sudden warmth in her neck to stay there and not redden her face. “He was fine.”
“Fine?”
“Nice, then.”
“Nice?”
“At this rate we’ll be chattering away all day,” Maddie observed with a wry twist of her lips. “I told you that Dr. Mueller ordered several tests and he’s altered Mom’s medications. He thinks one may be sedating her instead of treating the dementia.”
“Um.” Samantha studied her intently. “And that’s all?”
Maddie fiddled with the worn tablecloth. “It was just our first visit.”
“You plan on going back?”
“Of course!” Maddie replied in an instant. Inwardly grimacing, she slowed her words. “Providing Mom does better on the new medications.” The kettle whistled. Relieved, she rose to get the hot water, using the excuse to try and straighten her muddled thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she returned, carefully pouring the steaming water into their cups. “I should have noticed that there wasn’t any steam before. So, would you like some cookies with your tea?”
Looking truly concerned, Samantha drew her brows together, then pointed to a plate of lemon bars. “I brought these, remember?”
“Of course!” She clapped both hands over her reddening cheeks, then sank into her chair. “Not. I’ve been in a fluster since I got home.”
Worry colored Samantha’s eyes. “Is there something about Lillian’s condition you haven’t told me?”
Maddie shook her head. Thank heavens her mother was enjoying her regular afternoon nap and couldn’t overhear. Lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, Maddie stared down at the delicate pink roses edging her saucer. “It’s so stupid, it’s not worth repeating really.”
Samantha leaned forward. “If it’s got you this upset—”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it upsetting. Well, maybe. Depends on what you—”
Rapping the table with her knuckles, Samantha cut off her words. “Spill it.”
“I thought … I think Dr. Mueller is … well, attractive.”
“Downright handsome to be precise. How can this be a surprise? Surely you’ve seen him around town?”
“Mom’s doctor is in an old building downtown, not in the hospital where Dr. Mueller works. Thankfully, we haven’t had to be at the hospital much.”
“Still …” Samantha stopped abruptly. “Sorry. Of course I know you don’t get out enough. I just thought that somehow …” She brightened. “But you do like him?”
“He’s nice.”
“Don’t start that again. And you can call him J.C.” Samantha wriggled her eyebrows. “He’s single, you know. Well, divorced actually.”
“Divorced?”
“I don’t know the details, but I understand it was bad.”
Maddie wondered why any woman would let him go. Silly, she didn’t know a thing about him. Other than that smile, those eyes … Abruptly, she shook her head. “Honestly, Sam, you’re the last person I expected to matchmake. We’re seeing him so he can help Mom, not so I can develop a crush.” The word was barely out of her mouth when Maddie wished she could draw it back.
Samantha blinked.
“Bad choice of words,” Maddie tried to explain.
“Accurate is more like it.” She smiled more gently. “Hit that hard, did it?”
Her embarrassment waning, Maddie plopped her chin on one outstretched hand. “Stupid, huh? I’m old enough to know better.”
“You’re not that old,” Samantha objected. “Besides, I don’t believe in an age limit on falling in love.”
“Whoa!” Maddie protested. “Who said anything about love?”
Samantha grinned. “Puppy love?”
“I had my chance. I picked taking care of Mom instead. It’s what I want.” Maddie wasn’t only loyal, she couldn’t imagine shuttling her mother away because it was more convenient.
“It doesn’t have to be a choice.” Samantha patted Maddie’s hand. “Lillian wants you to be happy.”
“And a man deserves a woman who can devote herself to him and the family they create. I’m not that woman.” Although she’d never regretted her choice, Maddie sometimes dreamed of a life with a loving husband and children of her own. It wasn’t her destiny, but the fantasy was harmless.
“You just haven’t met the right man yet,” Samantha insisted in a gentle, yet confident, tone.
“Forgetting Owen, aren’t you?” Maddie’s high school, then college sweetheart, they’d been engaged when her mother had suffered the first of many strokes. Lillian had only been in her forties at the time, young for the onset of the neurological nightmare that had stolen her short-term memory.
Samantha’s expression was steady. “He’s a rat. What kind of man asks you to choose between him and your mother? He knew what was going on, how painful it was for you to give up everything.”
Maddie tried to interrupt. “But—”
“But nothing. I know you’d make the same choice again, but asking you to put her in a nursing home …” Samantha shook her head angrily. “And it’s not as though he was new to your life, didn’t know your history.”
Stroking the silken smoothness of the porcelain cup, Maddie remembered Owen’s unyielding stance. “I did think he might understand. We were going together when my dad passed away.”
“He also knew you didn’t have any relatives to share the load.” Samantha’s fierce loyalty didn’t waver. “Total rat.”
Maddie reluctantly smiled. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“Nope.” Loyal to the end, Samantha didn’t give an inch. “And J.C.’s about as different from Owen as a rat is to a cat.”
“I wouldn’t have thought it until you came back to Rosewood, but you’re a romantic, Sam. Just because you and Bret got back together after nearly a decade—”
“That was fate,” Samantha insisted. “And real, genuine, honest love. It wasn’t a reunion, it was a new start.”
“I imagine Owen’s got his hands full with his business.” His family had money, and Owen had stepped into the enviable position of entrepreneur with none of the struggle most young business owners faced.
