“I believe Mr. Victor will know what’s brought me here.”
The woman raised her eyebrows, looking as if she might insist on a different answer. Then she said, “Have a seat, Mr. Henning. I’ll see if he’s available.”
Andrew didn’t sit down. Instead, he paced the width of the small reception area. He wondered if there was a back door, if Henry Victor would go out it rather than face him. But eventually, the door to his office opened again and the secretary reappeared.
“Mr. Victor will see you, sir.”
Chapter 13
There was a dead pine tree at the back of the property, and on Wednesday Ridley decided to tackle its removal. After a quick trip into Hope Springs, he carried a new chainsaw and other tools out to the tree and set to work. By the time he brought it crashing to the ground, he’d worked up a good sweat. Shirtless, he stood back while wiping perspiration from his forehead with a rag.
“Nice job,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
He turned to face Jessica. She wore a pair of bright-yellow shorts, a yellow-dotted cotton top, and sandals that revealed toenails painted the same shade of blue-green as her eyes. Her pale hair was pulled back in a ponytail. There was a sweetness about her that he could almost taste. That he would like to taste, heaven help him.
“Hey there.” He reached for his T-shirt and slipped it over his head. When he could see her again, her gaze had shifted to the felled tree and her cheeks were flushed. He wondered if she might welcome his kiss. The thought made his pulse race even faster than when he’d held the chainsaw.
He cleared his throat. “How are you?”
“Good.” She looked at him again. “But I’m afraid I need a favor.”
“Whatever I can do.”
“You’re an internet specialist. Right?”
“IT work. Yes.”
“Well, my network’s been down since yesterday. I can’t connect to the internet. I can’t get my email or anything.”
“You checked your modem?”
She nodded. “I’ve been over all that with my provider. My modem’s good, they say. I guess it’s my router, which is separate from my modem. Router. Is that the right word for it?”
“Probably.” He ran the rag over his forehead again. “I can come have a look. Do you mind if Kris comes along? I shut her in the utility room while I was cutting down the tree. Didn’t want her to get hurt. But she’ll be eager for some exercise.”
“I don’t mind. She’s always welcome at my house. We’re old friends now.”
“Great. I’ll put away these tools and be right over.”
Pink heightened her cheeks again. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“No worries.”
Once he was back in the house, he peeled off his shirt for the second time and washed up in the sink. After a quick comb through his hair, he put on a clean shirt, grabbed a small box of tools, and headed out the door, Kris at his heels.
Jessica’s back door stood open. He rapped on the jamb, and when he heard her call to enter, he pulled on the screened door and went in.
“I’m in the studio,” she added.
He followed her voice.
The room had a well-used, delightful vibe that appealed to him. Tubes of paint were scattered on one of the counter tops. Beside the tubes were brushes, a mason jar of water, and a palette stained with a variety of colors. An easel was set up with the canvas facing the windows. A couple of drawers were half open, and a white smock hung from the corner of one of them. Jessica stood in the corner near her computer, looking as cute as she had outside, even though her expression was one of frustration.
“I really hated to bother you,” she said as he stepped toward her.
“I don’t mind. Let’s have a look.”
“I couldn’t get anyone to come for a service call until next week. I can’t be without the internet for that long.”
Ridley used to feel the same way. But he’d been without it or television for over two weeks now, and he’d survived. Of course, he wasn’t trying to run a business out of his home either.
“And,” Jessica continued, “it’s next to impossible to manage my order forms on my phone’s email. Cell service is just too slow up here in the mountains.”
“So you can’t print them from your phone?”
She shook her head. “Even without fast service, my printer isn’t Wi-Fi or bluetooth enabled.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“There always seems to be something else that’s needed more than a new printer.” She stepped aside, giving him room to begin work. “Can I bring you something to drink? Iced tea or water.”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t want to risk knocking liquid over by accident.”
“Right. Well, I’ll leave you alone. Holler if you need me.”
“Sure thing.”
About half an hour later, he went looking for her. He found her tossing a ball for Kris in the backyard.
“Bad news,” he said when she noticed him. “I checked everything, but it’s what you suspected. The router needs replacing. Where did you get this one?”
“I don’t remember.” She frowned.
He wondered if her husband had bought it for her. Most likely. “I could call the hardware store for you, see if they carry them.”
“They don’t. I already did that after talking to tech support.” “They’re easy enough to buy in Boise.” He waited half a breath before adding, “I’ll be happy to drive you down to the valley, if you’d rather not make the trip alone. I know you’re in a hurry to get up and running with your internet again.”
Jessica’s heart quickened at the offer. Not that she needed him to drive her to Boise. She’d made the trip often enough without a companion, and she was fairly certain she could buy a router without his assistance. But the idea of his company during the drive there and back was a pleasing one.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” she asked.
“No. I don’t mind.” He glanced toward the dog. “You might have to make it up to Kris later.”
“I will.”
“Then I’ll go lock her up. We’ll take my car.”
“Okay.” She looked down at her shorts and comfortable summer top. “Give me a few moments to change.”
“You look fine to me.”
Her heart did another strange flitter. “I think I’ll change anyway.” She looked at him again. “It won’t take me long.”
He nodded, and something in his gaze said she would need to prove it wouldn’t take her long.
She laughed as she turned and hurried away. In her room she changed into a loose-flowing, white summer dress and a pair of cute but sensible walking shoes. In the bathroom, she checked that her hair was still tidy, then applied a bit of mascara and some pink lip gloss. That was all there was time for. She grabbed a summer sweater on her way out of her room and was standing on the front stoop, waiting, when Ridley pulled up to her house in his Subaru.
He jumped out of the car and came around to open the door for her. “You, Ms. Mason, are a woman of your word.”
She smiled. “Thanks for noticing, Mr. Chesterfield.” She slid onto the passenger seat, frustration forgotten, feeling like a teenager playing hooky from school. Or was it more like a teenager on a first date? Her heart fluttered yet again.
Back behind the wheel, Ridley pressed a button on the car’s CD player, and soft music came through the speakers.
“Classical?” Jessica looked over at him.
“Surprised, huh. What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Bruno Mars. Justin Timberlake.”
Ridley laughed as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road.
That wasn’t a sufficient answer as far as Jessica was concerned. “Besides classical, then. Who are your favorite artists?”
“Toby Mac. Casting Crowns. Matt Redman. Chris Tomlin. Big Daddy Weave.”
“Christian music.”
> “To start with. Yeah.” He glanced at her, then back at the road.
That unwelcome guilt tugged at her conscience. She used to listen to praise music while she worked, but her studio had been silent for months now. For some reason, she’d fallen out of the habit of opening her music program on her computer. Just another indicator of the coldness of her heart, she supposed, and it made her yearn for the way she used to be.
“Ridley?”
“Hmm.”
“May I ask you something . . . personal?”
“I guess. Sure.”
“It’s about . . . about your faith.”
He looked surprised. “My faith?” Obviously, he’d expected her to ask something else.
“With what you’ve been through lately—on the news, on the internet, with your job—none of it seems to have shaken your faith.” She sighed as she turned to look out the window. “Never mind.” She wished she hadn’t said anything. She’d revealed more about herself with her comments than she might learn about him.
After a lengthy silence, Ridley said, “It’s people I lost faith in, Jessica. Not God. God didn’t cause this situation. He didn’t lie to me, and He didn’t lie about me. People did that.”
It wasn’t God who lied. It was people. Jessica’s breath caught. God never lied to me either. Joe did the lying. Only Joe. The truth of it shivered through her. Why hadn’t she understood that before now? She’d acted as if God had lied to her, but He hadn’t. He’d been there to comfort her through her tragic losses. He’d been near to walk with her, if only she would let Him.
Anger welled up next. Anger at Joe for cheating on her, for breaking their family apart even before she fully realized it, for taking Angela from her. But something in her heart insisted that being angry wasn’t the answer. Maybe anger was a necessary step, part of the grief process, but she had to move on from there. Forgive him. Forgive Joe. She knew that whisper in her spirit. She recognized God’s voice, despite having closed her ears to it for so many months. O Father, forgive me for blaming You. She knew that was the place she had to begin. With her own confession and forgiveness. But it was difficult. So very difficult.
After a long while, she looked at Ridley. “Have you forgiven them?”
“Who?”
“The people who lied to you or about you.”
“Not yet. I can’t yet.”
His answer confused her. “Why not?”
“I’m not sure who to forgive.”
“Not sure?”
He shrugged, his head tipping toward her as he did so. “It’s complicated.”
She understood complicated and decided not to ask any more questions.
MERIDIAN, IDAHO
Friday, May 8, 1931
Henry Victor, attorney-at-law, was a tall man in his late thirties. His dark hair was sprinkled with gray, as was his mustache, giving him a dignified air. Andrew was no expert, but he suspected the man’s suit was of the very best quality. His well-shined shoes weren’t in need of repair. He must be doing well, despite the depression. That alone must have made him attractive to Helen.
“Mr. Henning.” Henry Victor didn’t offer his hand. Andrew wouldn’t have taken it if he had.
“Mr. Victor.”
“Have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
If the ability to hide one’s thoughts and feelings made an attorney successful, that explained Henry Victor’s nice suit. His expression told Andrew nothing. He looked neither upset nor concerned to have his mistress’s husband sitting opposite him.
“My wife thinks she’s in love with you,” Andrew said after a lengthy silence.
Henry’s eyebrows raised a fraction, but otherwise the statement brought no reaction.
“Are you in love with her?”
“Would it make a difference if I were?”
“No. I suppose not. Your feelings do not change my desire to save my marriage.”
Henry leaned back, his chair creaking softly. He steepled his fingers before his mouth. “Has she asked you for a divorce?”
Andrew perceived a slight change in the man’s voice. Tension? Disapproval? “No,” he answered. “She hasn’t. Not yet.” He feared she would but didn’t say so.
Henry nodded.
“I’m here to ask you to stop seeing her. Divorce isn’t an option in my mind, but as long as she thinks she may end up with you . . .” He let the words trail into silence.
This, at last, got a noticeable reaction. “End up with me?” Henry barked a humorless laugh. A moment later, he sobered. “Mr. Henning, I can assure you, I have no intention of marrying Helen, even if you granted her a divorce.”
The urge to punch the man returned with such force that Andrew wasn’t sure he could control the cold fury that curled his hands into fists.
Henry stood. “I will end my association with her. I give you my word.”
What worth was the word of a man who would sleep with a married woman? Andrew swallowed the question as he rose from his chair. All he could do was nod before turning and leaving the office.
The receptionist glanced up from her desk, and Andrew thought he saw pity in her eyes. He hoped he was wrong. The fewer people who knew of Helen’s indiscretions, the better.
But that left him wondering—how few were those who knew?
Chapter 14
Jessica expected Ridley to take her to one of the large office-supply stores in Boise. Instead, he drove to a small strip mall on the north side of town and parked in front of a business called Mac’s Electronics.
“The owner’s a friend of mine,” he said, as if she needed an explanation. “We’ll find what you need here.” He got out and before she could open the passenger door herself had come around and opened it for her.
“Thanks.”
He offered his hand to help her out of the car, and she took it. Her skin seemed to tingle at the touch. She let go the instant her feet were firmly on the ground.
Inside the shop, the displays were few. Jessica decided the store couldn’t do much in the way of retail sales with so few products to offer. A counter off to her right had a sign above it that said Repairs. She assumed repair work was the larger part of their business.
“Mac?” Ridley moved toward a doorway in the rear.
“Be right with you,” a voice responded. A woman’s voice. A moment later she appeared in the doorway. “Ridley!” She threw her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. “My goodness. It’s good to see you.”
“Thanks, Mac. Good to see you too.” He took a step back, then glanced over his shoulder. “This is my neighbor, Jessica. She’s in need of a new router for her home office.”
“Sure thing.” Mac grinned at Jessica. “I’ll be glad to get you set up. I’m McKenzie, but everybody calls me Mac. I’ve got what you want over here.” She led the way to a display on her right. “Ridley, I heard you’d left town.”
“I did.”
“But you’re back now.” She reached into a cabinet beneath the display and pulled out a box.
“Nope. Only to see you. Then I’m gone again.”
Mac stopped what she was doing and laid a hand on Ridley’s upper arm. “I’m sorry it was so rough around here.”
“Thanks.” He covered her hand with his.
Jessica felt a strange sensation curl in her belly. Almost like . . . almost like jealousy. But of course it couldn’t be that.
As if he’d sensed her inner turbulence, Ridley looked in Jessica’s direction and offered a small smile. “I’m doing okay. I think the worst is over now. And I like where I’m at.”
The strange sensation intensified, only this time it was nothing at all like jealousy. She turned, pretending interest in the nearest display.
In a short while, Mac carried the selected router to the register. Jessica met her there.
“So Ridley’s your neighbor,” the woman said as she put the boxed router into a paper bag.
“Yes. Temporarily.”
Curiosity fil
led Mac’s eyes.
Rather than answer the unspoken question, Jessica held out her business credit card.
“He’s a super nice guy,” Mac said in a low voice. “My husband and I have been friends with him for a long time.” She set a chip reader onto the counter. “Just stick the card in there when you’re ready.”
Jessica did as she was instructed, suddenly liking the woman more than she had a short while before. It couldn’t have anything to do with the mention of a husband, could it?
Mac asked if she wanted a receipt emailed or texted to her. Jessica chose email and gave her address. By the time she was done, Ridley had joined her at the counter.
“You ready?” he asked. “If it’s all right with you, we’ll grab a bite to eat on our way out of town.”
“Sure.” She took the sack by its handles.
Mac said, “It was nice to meet you, Jessica. Come again. And Ridley, don’t be a stranger. We’re here if you need anything.”
“I know that, Mac. Thanks. Tell Todd hi from me.”
“I’ll do it.”
They stepped out of the air-conditioned shop into the bright sunlight. Jessica reached into her purse for her sunglasses. Ridley already wore his. The dark glasses along with his muscular build made him look more like an action movie star than a computer nerd.
“What?” he asked.
Only then did she realize she’d been staring at him. “Nothing.” She slipped her glasses into place.
“I’m starved. You?”
“Sure.” It was a lie. She wasn’t the least bit hungry. Not with that explosion of butterflies filling her stomach.
After placing their orders, Ridley and Jessica parked in the lot of the fast-food joint that had been his favorite during his senior year in high school. In his mind, the thick, juicy burgers were the definition of comfort food. He didn’t indulge often, but when he did, he enjoyed every bite.
“These are huge.” Jessica unwrapped one half of the burger.
“I know.”
“I’ll never be able to eat it all.”
He lifted his burger toward his mouth. “You might be surprised.”
Who I Am with You Page 12
