by Beth Ziarnik
Even when she didn’t understand.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Lord. To hear my father speak my name. To see the love shining in his eyes. To experience how much he treasures me.” When the time came for her to leave—whenever that might be—she would carry those precious gifts with her. Gifts no one could take from her. “And thank you for whatever time I have left with him.”
Her phone jangled. She bolted up to check it, and her heart leapt.
“Hi, honey,” Clay said, his voice quiet. “How are you? You must have seen your father by now.”
Though he couldn’t see her, she forced a smile. Maybe he’d hear it in her voice. “Hi, yourself. And yes, I saw him earlier.”
“How did it go?”
“Clay, he’s wonderful. We had a long talk.” She filled him in on most of it. “And he’s asking for you, wondering when you’ll return.”
“It shouldn’t be long. Francesca suggested we discuss the contract after dinner tonight. If we can wrap it up then, I’ll return tomorrow.”
“I would love nothing better, but let’s wait and see, okay?” She couldn’t escape a niggling feeling. “It’s hard to believe she flew you all the way to Haiti for a one-night conference you two could’ve settled with a phone call. There may be more to this than we know.”
“Are you suggesting I should be careful?”
Was she? “No. I’m confident you’ll know what to do and do it well. I’m just saying it may take longer than you anticipate.”
“You can’t fault me for hoping you’re wrong.” The sweet huskiness in his voice made her smile. “And I’m looking forward to meeting your father.”
At that, Jill choked up. When she failed to respond, he went on, “What? Is something the matter?”
She pulled in a deep breath. “Dad’s so ill. I’m not sure I should stay.” Please, Lord, don’t let Clay be too disappointed.
“Are you saying you want to leave?”
“Not really.”
“Does your father want you to go?”
“Not at all.” She squirmed. “But this is his mother-in-law’s house, and she’s not at all happy. She didn’t know I was coming.”
“How did that happen?”
“No one told her. If not for Alice and my father, she would’ve put me out in the storm.”
“Who’s Alice?”
“Dad’s nurse. He was also her guardian when she was a child.”
“Interesting. What brought that about?”
“I have no idea. So much has happened since I arrived, I haven’t thought to ask her.” Jill made a mental note to ask when Alice came later to talk.
“It sounds like she’s on your side.” Was he trying to encourage her to stay?
“You could say that. When Dora shut the front door in my face—”
“She did what?” A protective edge in his voice shot through the phone.
“Everything turned out fine,” Jill soothed. “Alice came around from the back and brought me to my dad.” That alone made this whole misadventure worthwhile.
“Where are you now?” His voice eased off a bit.
“In a bedroom on the second floor near Dad’s. I’m fine for the night.”
He remained quiet for a long moment. “You don’t have to stay.”
“Actually, I do, at least till morning. That blizzard shut down everything. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.”
“So, you do want to stay?”
Did she sound that confused? No wonder Clay was puzzled. “Yes, but if my staying causes a family uproar, it’s probably best for me to leave as soon as the roads clear tomorrow.” Would he agree? Would that be her cue?
Instead, she heard his deep sigh. “That’s too bad. I really hoped to meet your father.”
That was that. If she left, who knew how soon the two men in her life would get another chance to meet? “Maybe when Dad is feeling better.” Hopefully, somewhere far away from this house.
“Are you sure you want to leave that soon?”
“I don’t want to ruin Christmas for everyone.” The terrible truth of that statement propelled her into changing the subject. “How about you? Where are you?”
“Still in the air. We’ll make a quick stop in Florida before going on to Haiti. I’ll call again when we get to the island. In the meantime, how are you doing?
“As well as I can.”
“You’re sure?” He was probing again, but his caring helped to settle her frazzled nerves.
“I’m a little tired from all the excitement.”
“Take care of yourself.” His soft words nestled in her heart.
The muscles in her throat tightened. How she missed him. “You too.”
Clay briefed her on where to find his truck in the airport parking ramp before he disconnected.
Jill cradled her phone, a silly attempt to prolong a sense of their togetherness. The screen went black, and the awful separation pressed in again. She shook it off.
Enough of this feeling sorry for herself. She pulled her nightgown from her suitcase and grabbed her toiletries bag. A hot bath would work wonders with the knots in her neck and shoulders. After that, she’d stay out of the family’s way and relax until morning came and the storm passed.
Snuggled under an afghan on the lounger in her room, Jill turned another page in her Bible. She loved the beautiful story of Jesus’ birth, especially this time of year. “For unto us a child is born … a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” The scraps of Scripture from Isaiah and Luke sang through her heart, lifting her spirits.
She looked up at the enchanting details of her surroundings. As long as the Lord allowed, she would enjoy her father’s home. How wonderful to explore the textures of the family history embedded in this house.
A knock on the door snatched her attention. Throwing back the afghan and securing her robe, she hurried to answer.
“Alice.”
Balancing a tray aloft in one hand, the woman quickly grasped it with the other to keep it from falling. “Are you hungry?”
The aroma of roast chicken and sage dressing sent Jill’s stomach into a hollow rumble.
Alice laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Jill backed out of her way. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Sure I did. You couldn’t order pizza delivery on a night like this, could you? And why should you starve in a house brimming with food?” She moved across the room and set the tray on the round table near the windows. “Since I brought supper for John, it was no trouble to put yours on the cart too. Besides, I thought you might prefer eating in your room tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough to face the family.”
Alice winked as she removed the silver domed cover from a delicate china plate filled with an amazing dinner. She passed a linen napkin to Jill. “Sit down and eat up. After what Dora put you through, you’ve earned it.”
Hesitating only a moment, Jill sat, dropped the napkin across her lap, and prayed before she picked up a fork. “I’m starving.” She sampled a first tender bite of chicken. “Thank you. It’s delicious.”
Alice perched on the edge of a nearby chair, the twin to Jill’s. “Dora’s housekeeper may be old, but she can still cook.”
“Do you mean the elderly woman who answered the door also takes care of this huge house?”
Alice waved both hands. “Oh, goodness, no. A cleaning service comes twice a week, and Dora sends out the laundry. But Hannah loves to cook, and Dora lets her putter around with whatever else suits her fancy.”
“I’m surprised she’s not retired by now. Cooking family meals can’t be easy for someone her age.”
“Dora keeps her on for sentimental reasons. Hannah has lived and served in this house most of her life, in one capacity or another. She’s devoted to Dora.”
Jill paused between bites. “You know a lot about the family.”
Alice’s eyes twinkled. “I should. I’ve been around them most of my life.”
“You grew up here?
”
“Heavens no. Dora would never put up with the child of a jailbird living in her home. John sent me to boarding school and brought me here for summers and holiday vacations. Dora managed to tolerate that much.”
Jailbird? Maybe Alice would explain. Jill could never understand how anyone could be cruel to a child. “But I thought you were like family.”
Alice shrugged as if it didn’t matter in the scheme of things. “My mother and John were childhood friends and remained close over the years. Though never romantically. When Mom went to prison, John asked the court to appoint him as my guardian.”
“How old were you?”
“Seven.”
“So young to be torn from your mother … to be alone in the world.” Jill ached for that child.
Alice waved one hand dismissively. “All that happened long ago. Thanks to John, I went to nursing school. And now can repay him.” She glanced at Jill’s dinner plate.
Jill folded her napkin and placed it beside the empty plate, her cheeks warming as she realized how fast she had inhaled her meal. “How is my father?”
“Sleeping soundly. Thank you for coming. Your presence made the difference I hoped it would.” She looked at Jill’s open suitcase. “You … you haven’t unpacked.”
“It didn’t seem worthwhile.” She went to close her suitcase. “I think it would be best if Clay and I returned when Dad is feeling better.”
Alice followed her. “You might regret that decision.”
Jill zipped the suitcase. “You’ve been so kind. I can’t thank you enough. And I appreciate that you and Dad had good intentions. But I still don’t understand why you invited me. You must have known my coming would cause trouble.”
“True, but frankly, all that matters is John. He needs you. And if you leave, you may never get another chance to spend time with him.”
The intensity of Alice’s brown eyes set Jill’s pulse to thrumming. “He’s dying?”
“I didn’t say that.” Alice returned to the table and replaced the dome over Jill’s abandoned dinner plate. “What I am saying is this. Though I’m doing my best to nurse him back to health, he makes little progress. Recovering some and then relapsing. None of the tests so far have revealed anything helpful. I think he’s tiring of the struggle. That’s why I brought you here, hoping you might be the good medicine he needs. When I told John what I had done, he showed the first spark of interest in getting well that I’d seen in days. And since you’ve come, he appears to be a little stronger.”
“But why didn’t you inform Dora?”
Alice stiffened. “We didn’t want to give Dora a chance to stop you.”
“I can understand why she would try.”
Alice nodded. “No doubt, she thought she had put John’s infidelity to her daughter behind her and would never have to face it again.”
“Then suddenly here I am, opening a deep wound.” The thought sickened Jill.
“I’m afraid so, but for John’s sake, it couldn’t be helped. Don’t you see?”
Jill did see, but she wanted no part in hurting an old woman. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Alice, but it’s best for everyone if I leave in the morning. I promise I’ll come as often as you and Dad like … and Dora approves.”
Alice’s lips quivered. Her eyes rimmed with moisture. “I had hoped you’d stay no matter what Dora might do or say.”
At the little check in her heart, Jill paused. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”
Alice lowered her head, then snapped it back up, her eyes dark with agony. “I didn’t want to say anything, because I can’t be sure. But I suspect someone is behind John’s mysterious relapses. I just don’t know who or how.”
Her legs unable to hold her, Jill sank to the bed. “You don’t mean … you don’t mean someone in the family, do you?”
“I hope I’m wrong. Those relapses may only be his illness taking too much out of him, but I don’t think so. I have this feeling.” She pressed one fist against her chest. “That’s why I’m begging you, Jill. Please don’t leave. I need your help.”
Chapter Five
Clay stepped from his room onto the second-story porch of Francesca’s home. The balmy Haitian morning greeted him as he leaned stiff-armed against the stone railing.
Waiting.
Last night his would-be client had begged off discussing the contract, promising they would do so today. He checked his phone. It was nearly nine o’clock, and she had yet to make an appearance. How much longer, Lord?
“Monsieur.”
Clay turned toward the source of the soft voice a short distance behind him. A slender young woman with dark skin stepped from the shadows. With her head bowed, she folded her hands, which stopped their trembling.
“Yes?” He instantly regretted the slight edge of annoyance in his response. After all, Francesca was the cause of his stress, not this child-like woman.
“Please forgive me,” she said, “but Madam wishes me to inform you that she will meet with you in the early afternoon.” Her voice rose and fell in a pleasant Haitian cadence while she barely kept from fidgeting. Was she afraid? Hopefully, not of him.
He gentled his voice. “Where is Madam now?”
The girl’s brown cheeks took on a reddish hue. “Madam does not leave her bedchamber before noon.”
“Noon?” Clay sucked in a sharp breath.
The poor girl startled, then quickly recovered her motionless stance. The morning breeze played with the hem of her plain garment. “Oui, monsieur.”
He closed his eyes against the thought of another delay. His hopes for an early return to the States vanished.
“I am Noelle. I am to see to your needs.” Her voice quivered as he stared at her still form, ashamed of taking out his impatience on her. He would not do that again. She was only doing her job.
“Would monsieur care for …” She seemed to search for the right word. “Eh … le petit dejeuner … eh, breakfast?” The last word came as if it were two.
He answered her kindly. “Oui, Noelle. Thank you.”
Her brown eyes glanced up before she shuttered them again. “Monsieur speaks the French?”
Him? Speak French? Not exactly the language of the lower middle-class suburb of Chicago where he grew up. He chuckled. “No. That’s about it.”
She nodded. “I will see to what monsieur requires. May I ask what that might be?”
“For le petit dejeuner?” His attempt at French was atrocious, and he had no idea what a Haitian breakfast might include, but he suddenly felt adventuresome. “Surprise me with something from your country.”
The girl glanced at him, her eyes wide before she lowered them again. “As you say, monsieur. And where might you prefer to eat?”
“Where would you suggest?”
She hesitated as if not quite sure how to respond. “I … I will come for you.”
Noelle hurried away, evaporating into the shadows as quickly as she had appeared. He began to have second thoughts. No telling what she might come up with. Maybe he should have asked for eggs and toast. Yet a true Haitian breakfast might add spark to an otherwise long, monotonous morning.
Clay looked out over the lush green of Francesca’s well-kept property. Its large pots of bright red hibiscus flowers did little to quiet the sense of urgency that had needled him since he awoke early this morning. Beyond the mix of mango and avocado trees lay the rubble of Port-au-Prince, the city still attempting to recover from its 2010 earthquake and his reason for being here. Hopefully, he and Francesca would settle that contract today. In the meantime, he strained to be patient. What was it his pastor often said? Patience is a virtue, catch it if you can. Seldom found in woman, never found in man. A great deal of truth in that.
To calm himself, he inhaled the fragrant air. He would need help. God’s help.
When he had arrived last night, Francesca again emphasized the urgency of restoring her historic hotel. She cajoled him into relaxing after his lo
ng journey. She had encouraged him to enjoy the leisurely meal that awaited him and the pleasure of the tropical evening, then insisted they would be better prepared to discuss business in the morning.
If she was in a hurry to get on with the project, delaying their settlement of the contract didn’t make sense. Jill might be right. There might be more to this than he knew.
Clay lifted his eyes and scanned the Caribbean waters of Gonave Bay, shimmering in the morning sun. Visions of his arms around Jill, the two of them enjoying these exotic surroundings, enveloped him. If she were here, this morning would not seem so long and empty.
He pulled his phone from his button-down shirt pocket and glanced at the time again. Eight o’clock Milwaukee time. Not too early to call.
“Clay.” The delight in her voice curled pleasantly in his chest. “Do you have news?”
He caught her unspoken hope. “No. Francesca wasn’t ready to discuss business last night, and according to her maid, I won’t see her until this afternoon. How about you? Are you leaving this morning? Will you see your father before you go?”
“I’m not leaving after all.”
He stilled at her sudden change of plans. “What happened?”
“Two things. Alice insists Dad is doing better since I arrived.” Jill paused. “And she suspects someone may be preventing him from getting well.”
“Preventing …” Clay’s gut tightened. “Are you in any danger?”
“I don’t think so. But if what Alice suspects is true, it’s logical that someone may be poisoning Dad.”
“What?” No wonder his gut had been needling him all morning.
“Don’t get excited. She isn’t sure. That’s why she wants my help.”
His pulse quickened. “Doing what?”
“She needs an extra pair of eyes to make certain Dad will be safe.”
Clay’s jaw tightened. If anyone wanted to harm her father, and Jill got in the way … He kept his voice level. “I don’t like this, Jill. Please get out of that house.”
“I wish it were that easy, but please understand. I can’t abandon my father.”
