Untried Heart

by Nicky Charles

  Her experience with men was almost non-existent. The encounter with Jonathan on the night before she died was really all she had to go by. It had shown just how little she knew about men. In her naiveté, she had imagined all kinds of scenarios the night after that art show, not one of them had included his wife and child. But Ben… Ben had kissed her lips. There was no misunderstanding that!

  But, Ben was a client. Michael had told her to interact with him however she was sure he hadn’t meant starting a physical relationship...or had he? Maybe she should visit Michael and get some clarification.

  With a thought, she transported herself to the waiting area outside Michael’s office. The room was empty, the lighting dim. No one was at the reception desk. In fact, even the hallways appeared to be devoid of occupants. She bit her lip. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it was quite late. Was Michael even here?

  A thin line of light showed under his door so she gathered her courage and tentatively tapped at the door. There was a moment of silence and then the sound of footsteps approaching.

  “Yes?” Michael’s gaze stared out over her head then lowered, his eyes widening when he saw her. “Eugenie?”

  “Hello, sir. I’m sorry to arrive unannounced. I realize it’s quite late—”

  He held up a hand. “No rambling, remember?” Taking a step to the side, he ushered her in. “What brings you here this late at night?”

  “I have a question about my assignment.”

  “I see. Well, take a seat.” He walked to his desk and sat down.

  Eugenie noticed all the papers and files before him, the weary slump to his shoulders, the tired shadows under his eyes. His hair was mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it and there was even stubble on his chin. One part of her brain noted he was darkly handsome while another part focused on the fact that she’d never stopped to consider when Michael did his work. Whenever she’d been in his office, his desk had always been clean save for a few carefully aligned folders.

  “Eugenie?” He drew her attention back to him. “As you can see I still have considerable work to complete. If you need something...?”

  “I’m sorry.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “My client kissed me tonight.” Then she gasped. She hadn’t meant to blurt out that fact in quite such a blunt manner.

  “Really?” Michael leaned back in his chair, his hand stroking his chin. Was there a hint of a smile there? “And that concerns you?”

  “Yes. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Did you enjoy the kiss?”

  “It was wonderful!” She paused and furrowed her brow. “But is it allowed? I don’t want to break the rules. And he offered me a gift. His mother’s dollhouse from when she was a child. I’m sure I read somewhere that a guardian angel shouldn’t accept favours from a client.”

  “The exact wording is that a GA cannot coerce a client into offering either material or physical favours. Our clients are often emotionally vulnerable and we can’t take advantage of them. However, if they are initiating the interactions, it’s another matter. To refuse a gift, freely given, would not only be rude but could damage the relationship.”

  Eugenie nodded. “I understand.”

  “The GA has to consider the mental and emotional state of the client. If they are of sound mind, if the bestowing of the gift will contribute to the client finding their way, then the GA is free to proceed.”

  “Ben is of sound mind. As to whether giving me something of his mother’s will help in any way—”

  Michael interrupted, leaning forward, his hands clasped on the desktop, “Eugenie, I feel you are overthinking. ‘Go with your gut’ as I’ve heard some say. You have good instincts and a loving heart. Remember you were chosen for this job for a reason and it wasn’t because there were doubts as to your ability.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” She stood. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “You’re never a bother, Eugenie. It’s more like you are a breath of fresh air.”

  Flustered at the compliment, she gave a half shrug. “I’m just me. Nothing special.”

  “I beg to differ, but I’ll leave it for now.”

  As she turned to leave, she noticed Michael rolling his shoulders before bending over his papers again. She hesitated. “Michael?”

  “Yes?” He looked up. There was no denying his weariness.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” She gestured towards the papers on his desk. “You seem to have a lot to do but you look tired.”

  He smiled. “As I said, you have a tender heart. Don’t worry, I’ll get this done in a few hours.”

  “Isn’t there anyone waiting at home for you?” She cocked her head, never having thought about Michael’s life beyond the walls of this building.

  “No, Eugenie. No one is waiting for me.”

  “Oh.” Did she detect loneliness in his voice? Was this job all he had in his life?

  He shook his head. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, Eugenie. I’m not one of your clients. I’m perfectly fine. Now go back to that apartment you rented and get some rest. I’m sure you’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “All right.” She’d been dismissed… In the nicest of ways, of course, but dismissed nonetheless. Poor Michael. So much work to do and all alone. Giving her head a sad shake, she headed back to her apartment.

  That night she dreamed of overtired archangels who nodded in approval as a gruff carpenter held her close and kissed her senseless.

  Someone was hammering. Was she still dreaming about Ben? Experimentally, she opened her eyes and saw the ceiling in her bedroom. No, it wasn’t Ben. It sounded like someone was trying to break down her front door. After grabbing her robe and pushing her arms into the garment, she went to see what all the fuss was about. A glance through the peep hole in the apartment door revealed Zeke waiting on the other side. She opened the door, a puzzled frown on her face.

  “Zeke! What are you doing here? Aren’t you on assignment?”

  “Yeah, but it’s mostly night work. I grabbed a couple hours of shut-eye and then picked this up for you.” He held up what looked like a slim book.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a tablet. You’ve seen them around, I’m sure; I know Michael has one. I thought you could make use of a computer. This is pretty powerful and you can do most things on it that you can on a regular laptop.

  “But, Zeke, I haven’t a clue how to use such a thing.”

  “Oh ye of little faith! I’m numero uno when it comes to knowing all things tech. Let’s pretend we’re human and make some coffee and I’ll teach you all you need to know about the wonders of the internet while you eat breakfast.”

  “Perfect! You can also show me how to use the microwave!”

  A few hours later, Eugenie arrived at Ben’s place with her new tablet tucked under her arm. It was mid-morning and Ben was already at work sanding the surface of a board. For a moment, she paused to admire the play of muscles as he worked before giving her head a shake and announcing her presence.

  “Good morning, Ben.” She raised her voice so as to be heard over the sound of the power tool.

  He looked over his shoulder at her and nodded then returned to work.

  Surprised, she stared at his back. After his kiss last night, she’d expected more. Nothing major like him declaring undying devotion, but something. A smile, a hint of warmth, a good morning kiss?

  She pressed her lips together. Had she misunderstood his actions? From what she’d observed on the television Zeke had given her, kissing was far more common and carried less meaning than it had in her day but somehow she’d felt Ben was different. Perhaps she’d been wrong.

  Not knowing what else to do, she headed to the rear of the barn and resumed her work. Using her tablet, she began to take pictures of the items she’d already sorted, planning on researching them later to determine their value. This thing called the internet that Zeke had shown her truly was a wealth of inform
ation.

  Eventually, she became lost in her work and gave a start when the sound of voices finally intruded on her thoughts. Looking up, she realized Ben had customers. Angelic customers.

  It was important to maintain her story that she’d asked friends to check out Ben’s furniture, so she made a point of noticing them.

  “Hello, thanks for stopping by.” She called out the greeting as she walked over to where they stood admiring a set of shelves.

  “Hi Eugenie! We heard you’d been praising this furniture and you were right. His work is superb.” Carmen, one of the angels, ran her hand over some of the carved detailing before moving on to look at another piece.

  “One of your friends?” Ben asked in a lowered voice.

  “Yes, we...er...used to live in the same neighbourhood.” Eugenie felt that was close to the truth.

  Ben nodded and then went to answer a query from one of the other angels.

  After a few minutes, she went back to work while keeping an eye on Ben and his customers. It appeared they’d purchased a few pieces and placed an order for more. She held back a smile, pleased her plan was helping Ben get back on his feet.

  When the transactions were complete, Ben came to speak to her.

  “Eugenie, you’re a miracle worker. I can’t believe you know so many people who need furniture. This group has just opened a small bed and breakfast and want some unique pieces—” He stopped and gave a soft laugh. “But I guess you know that if they’re friends of yours.”

  “Right.” A twinge of guilt washed over her at the white lie.

  Thankfully, Ben changed the topic as he glanced at his watch. “It’s almost noon. Would you like to share a pizza with me? It’s just frozen, though.”

  “Sure. I’d love to.” His offer had her smiling.

  “I’ll go put it in the oven and give you a call when it’s ready.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get some more of this stuff catalogued.”

  With a nod, Ben headed for the house and she watched him leave, a flutter of excitement filling her.

  Ben took the pizza out of the oven. The cheese was bubbling, the crust lightly browned. Perfect. It would be cool enough to eat by the time Eugenie walked up to the house.

  “Okay, Chip, go get our guest.” He opened the door and the old dog gave a happy woof before running towards the barn. Hopefully, Eugenie would understand Chip was trying to get her to come inside.

  After taking plates from the cupboard, he went looking around for napkins. Usually, he’d grab a paper towel but women were fancier than that. He began to pull open drawers and cupboards wondering where the hell napkins might be only to pause and run a hand through his hair. What was he doing? He wasn’t worried about impressing Eugenie. They were sharing a frozen pizza. It was a simple thank you for the customers she’d sent his way.

  He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. This was exactly what he’d told himself he wouldn’t do. When Eugenie had greeted him this morning, he’d been purposely cool. He’d sensed her behind him, watching him, confused over his apparent dismissal of her but he hadn’t wanted to lead her on. They were friends, barely more than acquaintances. The kiss had been a mistake, an anomaly.

  Right.

  He looked at the drawers he’d pulled open in his search and pushed them shut. No napkins, no extra fuss.

  “Ben?”

  He turned at the sound of Eugenie’s voice.

  “Chip was barking and kept running this way and looking at me so I assumed you’d sent him to tell me lunch was ready.”

  “You were right. I just took the pizza out of the oven.”

  “Great.” She stepped inside and took off her coat.

  He noticed the tip of her nose was pink and so were her cheeks. The temperature was dropping steadily, the predicted cold front finally arriving.

  “I’ll just set my coat here.” She laid it on a chair and with a start Ben realized he’d been staring at her.

  “Yeah. That’s good.” He turned and pulled open the fridge door. “What would you like to drink? I have soda—”

  “Just water will be fine.” She stepped towards the cupboards and took out a glass. He noticed her pause, her eyes seeming to settle on the shot glass that sat on the counter.

  Last night, after taking her home, he’d come home intending to take a drink or two in order to rid himself of all thoughts of women but, at the last minute he’d changed his mind. For some reason, drinking himself into oblivion hadn’t been appealing and he’d gone to bed stone cold sober. Of course, Eugenie wouldn’t know that. He braced himself for a snide comment about drinking too much but instead she merely continued on to fill her glass with water.

  Ben watched as she completed the simple task. Sabrina would have nagged. Hell, Sabrina wouldn’t even have settled for tap water. She’d have wanted some fancy carbonated kind, at the very least. As a matter of fact, she would never have accepted his offer of frozen pizza. He scowled at how many years he’d wasted.

  “Ben? Are you all right?”

  He gave himself a mental shake. “Yeah, just thinking about something.”

  “Oh.” Eugenie picked up the tray with the pizza and set it on the table.

  The fact she didn’t start asking him questions was a surprise. It was a pleasant change. Sabrina had loved to hear all the dirty details. Pushing thoughts of his ex out of his mind, he grabbed a soda for himself and sat down opposite Eugenie at the small kitchen table.

  “This is good,’ she commented as she licked a bit of sauce from her fingers.

  He watched the action, fascinated by the way her tongue slipped out between her lips. It caused a reaction in his body and he shifted in his chair, fumbling for something to say. “Sorry, I couldn’t find any napkins.” He immediately regretted it. Why was he pointing that out?

  “I’m fine.” She smiled at him then took another bite of her pizza, laughing at the cheese string that formed.

  Chapter 8

  Lunch somehow progressed to Ben showing her around the house. It had been in his family since the 1940s, purchased by his grandfather shortly after returning home from the war. Apparently, he’d met Ben’s grandmother while he was in England prior to the D-Day landings, married her and had brought her back to Canada after the war.

  “I love these dishes.” Eugenie paused in front of a curio cabinet that displayed some fine china.

  “My grandmother’s. She brought them over with her.” Ben stood behind her and she could see his reflection in the glass. “There are a few other things in the house that were hers as well.”

  “Really? What else?”

  “Well, there’s this lamp.” He gestured towards the item and Eugenie struggled not to make a face. It was truly hideous.

  “That’s…er…interesting.”

  Ben laughed. “You can say that again. It’s as ugly as sin. Apparently, my grandfather kept threatening to throw it out every time they had an argument.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t get rid of it even if they weren’t arguing.”

  “I guess he had great self-restraint.” Ben guided her to the living room. “Just to prove my grandmother’s family didn’t have completely dreadful taste, check out this painting.” His hands on her shoulders, Ben turned her to face a painting…of herself!

  “That’s really lovely!” She gaped at the artwork, an icy wave washing over her. It was the painting Jonathan had done of her the night before she’d died. Well, not exactly. This was the finished article and far more detailed than the half-done product she’d seen.

  Her throat felt tight and it was difficult to swallow as she recalled that evening. She’d been deceived by the dashing artist, or had she deceived herself? Whatever the case, it was because of him she’d been in such a daze the following morning…or at least she had been in a daze until Annabelle had shattered her dreams by announcing he was married. If it hadn’t been for that, she might have seen the truck coming, she might have…

  ‘What ifs’ flew through her
head and it took her a moment to realize Ben was still talking. He hadn’t appeared to notice her reaction.

  “Yes, my great-grandfather, an aspiring artist, painted this but he never sold it.”

  She raised a shaking hand to her throat, struggling to keep her voice calm. “Any idea why?”

  “Family legend has it the girl who sat for it was killed soon after. All we know beyond that is he refused to sell it.”

  “That’s quite the…er…story.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Ben stepped closer to the picture, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s always fascinated me. Both the story and this painting. I’ve often wondered about the girl. Her smile, the expression in her eyes. There’s an innocence there, a trace of sadness, longing...” His voice trailed off.

  Eugenie suddenly blinked, a horrible thought occurring to her. What if Ben realized she was the girl in the painting? True, her hair was different as was her clothing but… Did Michael know about this? She needed to get out of here and fast!

  “Ben, I just remembered I…er…I have an appointment and I’m going to be late. Sorry, but I need to leave now.” She backed away, heading toward the door.

  “I can give you a ride.” Ben turned towards her and she ducked her head so her hair fell forward partially hiding her face, not caring that he’d probably wonder what she was doing.

  “No. It’s fine. You need to finish that chair you’re working on. I’ll talk to you later!” And with that, she grabbed her coat and dashed out the door.

  Ben watched Eugenie leave. Through the window, he could see her hurrying down the lane, hands tucked in her pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold. For a moment, he considered following her. It wouldn’t take any time to catch up to her in the truck. He jingled the keys in his pocket and then shook his head.