Heartwishes Read online

  “I think I’ll wait a while,” he said. “You really want this job, don’t you?”

  “You have no idea how much! None at all.”

  “Actually, I do. I wanted something once.”

  “Did you get it?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Gemma smiled at him, but she couldn’t imagine what someone as rich as he was could want as much as she wanted this job. When she heard Isla’s high-pitched laugh, she looked out the glass doors. Mrs. Frazier was walking between Isla and Kirk, just a few yards away now, and the three of them looked as though they were old friends. Obviously, Mrs. Frazier didn’t seem to have the same opinions that her son did. Too bad she was the one doing the hiring.

  Gemma took a step toward the door, but Colin reached it before she did and opened it to his mother.

  “Colin,” Mrs. Frazier said in surprise. “I thought you were going into town for lunch.”

  “I couldn’t drag Gemma away from her research, so I thought I’d wait.”

  “Oh? Have you two become friends?”

  “She’s only interested in your boring old papers,” he said as he opened the door wider for the other two.

  “Hello again,” Isla said brightly to Colin, sounding as though she’d known him for years. “Gemma, darling, you missed a truly exquisite lunch.” Isla went to her and kissed her cheek.

  Gemma’s eyes widened. She didn’t exactly travel in the same circles as Isla, and they’d certainly never exchanged kisses before.

  “Gemma,” Kirk said as he too kissed her cheek. “Isn’t this place wonderful?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “What you’ve done to this little house is marvelous,” Isla said to Mrs. Frazier. “Please tell me you aren’t your own interior designer.”

  “I purchased a few things that belonged to my husband’s family,” Mrs. Frazier said modestly.

  “Mother, you bought everything that the first Frazier could possibly have touched,” Colin said.

  “Shamus,” Gemma said, and everyone turned to look at her.

  “Yes, my youngest son,” Mrs. Frazier said. “I didn’t realize you’d met him.”

  Kirk said, “Delightful young man. I’m a great admirer of his accomplishments.”

  “I think Gemma means the original Shamus,” Colin said. “The one who helped found Edilean.”

  Again, everyone looked at her, and she nodded. She was so nervous she could hardly speak. Her deep desire for the job was making her tongue-tied.

  “Where did you hear of him?” Mrs. Frazier asked.

  Gemma took a deep breath. “The name was in the history of Edilean on the town Web site and in the genealogy of your family. I was wondering what happened to cause the break in the generation after him. I searched the Internet and found where the family house had been repurchased in the late eighteenth century by the son of the American settlers, Shamus and Prudence Frazier. But then the surname was changed back to Lancaster, and there was no more mention of ‘Frazier.’ Was the separation caused by the distance between America and England, or did something else cause the rift?”

  When she stopped talking she saw the way Mrs. Frazier, Isla, and Kirk were staring at her. Behind them, Colin’s eyes were sparkling, as though he was enjoying everything.

  Gemma took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious, is all.”

  “Yes, well,” Mrs. Frazier said as she turned to Isla. “As for your question, I didn’t use a decorator.”

  “But it looks like such a professional job. Do you mind if we see the living room again?” Isla gave Gemma a look that said she’d just lost the job.

  “Of course.” Mrs. Frazier left the room first, Isla close behind her.

  “Put your foot in that one, didn’t you?” Kirk said to Gemma, then left.

  When they were alone in the room, Gemma looked at Colin. “Me and my big mouth! Why didn’t I ask about the rug or the desk?”

  “Because you couldn’t care less about them.”

  “True, but I should have pretended to . . .” She paused. “I’m going in there and try to make your mother believe I’m not the world’s rudest person.” Gemma stopped in the doorway. “Quick! Tell me something she likes.”

  “Right now, my father’s aristocratic relatives are her great passion.”

  “But I just—” Her eyes widened.

  “Right. You asked about them and showed that you’ve already done quite a bit of research on your own.”

  Gemma stood there blinking at him. “But she’s more interested in talking about decorating with Isla.”

  “I thought so too, but that was before I saw her face as she listened to you. My mother hates for anyone to know what she’s up to. Let me borrow your notebook.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me, please.”

  Gemma didn’t understand what he had in mind, but she took it out of her big bag and handed it to him, then hurried into the living room with the others.

  “This town sounds enchanting,” Isla was saying, “and if I should be given the job I will enjoy becoming part of the community.”

  “I can’t wait to dive into the research,” Kirk said. “The excitement of discovery, the thrill of tracking down a story, the possibility of learning something that no one else knows . . .” He had a faraway look in his eyes that Gemma had never seen before, even though she’d been in classes with him for the last four years. They’d never been in a study group together, but then Gemma’s workload prevented her from conforming to other people’s schedules.

  “I agree completely,” Isla said. “It will be so interesting to start going through the documents. If I weren’t enjoying the company of your family so much, I’d be in here now.”

  “And what about you?” Mrs. Frazier asked, looking at Gemma.

  “She’s already started,” Colin said as he handed his mother Gemma’s notebook.

  Mrs. Frazier flipped through the pages. Only five of them had been filled with Gemma’s small handwriting, but it could be seen that there was a lot of information in there. “Do you find that using different colors of ink helps you?”

  “I sometimes use eight colors,” Kirk said before Gemma could speak.

  “I use color-coded dots,” Isla said. “Oh, but it will be such fun to start going through everything.”

  “Is that how you feel too, Gemma?” Mrs. Frazier asked. “That it will be fun?”

  “I think ‘intense’ would better describe it,” Gemma said. “I would guess that most of the documents, probably eighty percent of them, are useless when trying to write a history because they’re household accounts. If you want to find out the financial side of your husband’s family, I’d suggest hiring a forensic accountant.”

  “I think Gemma means—” Kirk began.

  Mrs. Frazier put up her hand. “So you’re only interested in dealing with twenty percent of the papers?”

  Gemma felt as though she’d yet again messed up, but when she glanced at Colin, he gave her an encouraging nod. “Yes,” Gemma said firmly. “What I’d do first is go through every box and do a lot of sorting. What I couldn’t use, I’d store, then I’d put the diaries and letters and personal papers in the library and start working from there.”

  Mrs. Frazier looked at Gemma for a moment, then turned to Isla. “And how would you begin?”

  “The same way,” she said quickly. “That’s standard procedure.”

  Gemma shot Isla a look. There was no “standard procedure” for dealing with historical data. All researchers had their own way of working.

  Mrs. Frazier turned to her son. “I think I’ll take a nap. Why don’t I return to the house with Isla and Kirk, and you take Gemma out to lunch? You two must be starving. And while you’re in town, why don’t you show her your office?”

  Turning, Mrs. Frazier handed Gemma her notebook, but she said nothing. She looked at Isla and Kirk. “Yesterday I had the heat in the pool turned up. Perhaps you two would like a sw