The Blessing Read online

  But now the house stood before her in perfect repair. It was what it should have been, beautiful beyond anything Amy could have imagined. Jason had clearly made it his home.

  Inside, she didn’t have time to look at much as Jason carried a tired, but still whimpering Max through the marble-floored foyer, through the living room, then down the corridor into the room that had once been Max’s nursery. It was preserved intact, just as it had been two years ago, everything clean and tidy, as though the baby who used it would be back any minute.

  All in all, Amy thought, it was rather creepy.

  Jason put Max down, the child looked about for a second, then he relaxed, and finally, at long last, he went to sleep.

  “He cannot remember this place,” Amy said. “He was just a baby when he left.”

  “No one ever forgets love, and he loved this house,” Jason said.

  And he loved you, Amy wanted to say but didn’t.

  For a moment Jason waited, as though expecting her to say something, but when she was silent, he said, “You know where your room is,” then turned away and went to what Amy knew was the same room where he’d stayed when it was her house.

  When she was alone, she went into what had been her bedroom. It was a far cry from what it had been when she lived in the house, and she knew that only a professional decorator could have made the room so beautiful. Even down to the fresh flowers, it was heavenly. Exhausted from her struggles with Max, she did little more than visit the bathroom, then fell onto the bed.

  So now it was morning, Max was still asleep, and she guessed that Jason was still sleeping in the spare bedroom.

  “And we forgot Doreen’s furniture,” she said as she finished her tea, then she stood and stretched. She needed to get dressed so she could get to work. The murals needed to be done before the president’s visit, she thought, smiling.

  In her bedroom she wasn’t surprised to find clean clothes, just her size, in the closet. And when Max woke up, she wasn’t surprised to find that Jason had already left the house.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “DAMN IT TO HELL AND BACK,” JASON SAID AS HE BANGED his fist on the steering wheel of the car. Just what did Amy think he was made of? He hadn’t slept ten minutes last night for thinking that she was in the next room. But his presence didn’t seem to have bothered her, for she slept heavily. Quietly, so he wouldn’t disturb her of course, he’d checked on her and Max four times during the night.

  So now he was driving to the library, it wasn’t even daylight yet, and he faced days of working side by side with her. Yet every time he tried to tell her that he wasn’t engaged, that he still loved her, she cut him off. Why in the world hadn’t he tried harder to explain?

  He’d better stop that or he’d go crazy. Sometimes it seemed that since he’d met Amy, all he did was regret his actions. Already he regretted hiring a juvenile delinquent to help paint the library. When Amy saw him and Jason saw her fear, he’d instantly regretted what he’d done. But then Raphael had tricked her, and . . .

  “Oh, the hell with it,” he said as he swung the car into the library parking lot. Maybe he should do what his brother advised him to do and forget about Amy. Maybe he should find someone else, a woman who would love him back. A woman who didn’t run away rather than have to spend time with him.

  When Jason entered the library, his jaw was set and he was determined that he was going to stay away from Amy and her son. Maybe it would be better if he went to the Bahamas for a while. He could return just in time for the opening of the library and—

  No, he told himself, he was going to stay and fight like a man. Maybe what everyone said was right and he didn’t know Amy at all. She certainly didn’t look the same as when he’d known her before. Two years ago she’d been thin and tired-looking, and she had an air about her of helplessness that had appealed to him.

  But this new Amy was altogether different. There was now an air of confidence about her. Yesterday she’d been quite clear about what she needed to paint the murals and who she needed and what was to be done.

  “Mildred’s probably right, and I only like helpless people,” Jason muttered. “I’m sure that after I spend six weeks near her I’ll realize that I never even knew her and that the woman I thought she was is a fantasy.”

  Smiling, he began to feel better. Yes, that was it. Before he’d spent just a few days with her and Max, and of course he’d liked them. As David pointed out they were in need of “fixing,” like one of the little companies Jason used to buy then reorganize and sell for a fortune. Amy and Max were like Abernathy. And the fixer inside him wanted to sort them out and do something with them.

  Now that he had that solved, he felt much better. But then he looked at his watch and wondered when the hell Amy was going to get there, because, damn it! he missed her.

  No, he told himself. Discipline! That’s all he needed. He needed the discipline of an iron statue. He was not going to make a fool of himself over Amy again. He wasn’t going to pursue her, lie to her, trick her, or in any way try to make her like him. Instead, he was going to be all business. They had a job ahead of them, and he was going to do it, and that’s all.

  Right, he told himself, then looked at his watch again. What in the world was she doing?

  When he heard her car pull into the parking lot, he smiled, then went into the office. He wasn’t going to let her think that he’d been waiting for her.

  “Doreen, dear,” Amy said, as she handed half her sandwich to Max, “we forgot all about your furniture last night.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said, looking down at her sandwich as though it were as appetizing as paper. “I didn’t think it would happen.”

  “And why not, honey bun?” Jason asked.

  Both Amy and Doreen looked up at him with startled eyes.

  “Are you losing confidence in me already?” Jason asked. “Even before we’re married?”

  Both women stared at him with their mouths hanging open.

  “I was thinking, darlin’, that since I don’t have a lot of time . . .” Jason shifted the sandwich to his other hand and opened a newspaper that someone had left lying on the table. They were, after all, in a library. “How about this one?” he asked as he pointed to a photo of a big white farmhouse with a deep porch all around the front of the house. It was two stories with a full attic and three dormer windows across the front. Even in the grainy black and white photo the house looked cool and serene under the big trees that were at the sides and back of the house.

  “You like it?” Jason asked as he took another bite.

  “Me?” Doreen asked.

  “Of course. You’re the one I’m marrying, aren’t I? Unless you’ve changed your mind, that is.” With that he winked at Amy, who still hadn’t closed her mouth. “You like the house or not?”

  “It’s beautiful,” Doreen whispered, her eyes as big as the giant cookies Charles had brought in on a porcelain platter.

  “Not too little? Too big? Maybe you’d like something more modern.”

  Doreen looked at Amy as though for advice.

  Amy cleared her throat. “If that house is in good condition, it’ll hold its value better than a new house,” she said softly.

  “So what will it be, love?” Jason asked.

  It was Doreen’s turn to swallow hard. “I . . . Uh . . . I, ah.” Suddenly she blinked hard, as though she’d made a decision. “I’ll take it,” she said enthusiastically.

  In the next moment, Jason picked up his cell phone and called the realtor’s number. Amy and Doreen sat in silence while they heard him tell the man that he wanted to buy the house pictured in today’s newspaper.

  Jason paused. “No, I don’t have time to see it. No, I don’t care what it costs. You do all that, just bring me the papers and I’ll give you a check.” He paused again. “Thank you,” Jason said, then turned the phone off.

  “You can’t buy a house just like that,” Amy said.

  “Sure I can. I just did.