by Irene Hannon
Maggie dragged her protesting body up to the third floor, which had been divided into two dormer bedrooms—one for her, one for the girls. She sank down onto her bed, too tired even to remove her shoes as she stretched out. The twins would give her a hard time about that, she thought with the ghost of a smile as her eyelids drifted closed. She’d always been such a stickler about keeping shoes off beds and furniture. But the thought didn’t linger long. In less than fifteen seconds she drifted into oblivion.
* * *
As consciousness slowly returned, Maggie lifted her heavy eyelids and stared at the ceiling feeling disoriented. Then she turned her head to look at the clock on her bedside table. When it finally came into focus, she frowned. Eight o’clock? She’d slept for two hours? But no, the light wasn’t right, she thought in confusion, glancing toward the dormer window. It was at the wrong angle.
With a sudden jolt, the truth hit home. It was morning! Propelled by panic, she quickly sat up and swung her legs to the floor. The room tilted crazily, and she dropped her head into her hands as she waited for everything to stop spinning.
The sudden ringing of the phone on her nightstand made her jump, and she groped for the receiver with one hand.
“Hel...” Her voice came out in a croak and she tried again. “Hello?”
“Maggie? Is that you?”
“Yes,” she replied groggily. “Hi, Jake.”
She could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound awful.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“How are you feeling? Or does your voice tell the story?”
Yes, she thought to herself, it does. The numbing lethargy still had a grip on her body, and her aches hadn’t dissipated much, if at all. “I’ll live,” she assured him, striving for a flippant tone. “It’s just a flu bug or something. And in this business there are no sick days. The guests just keep coming.” She reached for a tissue and tried to discreetly blow her nose.
Jake realized that he’d never really thought about that. The few times he’d been under the weather in the navy he’d simply gone on sick call. But Maggie didn’t have that luxury. In fact, as far as he could see, she didn’t have many luxuries, period. And that bothered him. “I guess you’re right,” he admitted. “But the girls can help, too, can’t they?”
There was no way to avoid such a direct question. “They could if they were here. But they’ve been gone all week and won’t be back until late this afternoon. So I’m the official greeter today.”
“But your cleaning woman is coming today, isn’t she?”
“Monday is one of her regular days to come,” Maggie hedged.
“Well, try to take it easy, okay?” he replied.
“I’ll try,” she said, knowing that she could try all she wanted to—the house still had to be cleaned. It was a daunting task when she was well; “impossible” was a more appropriate descriptor today, considering how she felt. But she’d manage somehow. She always did.
“I’ll check back with you later, Maggie.”
“Okay. Thanks for calling, Jake.”
Slowly she replaced the receiver. Then, summoning all her reserves of energy, she forced herself to stand up. At least she was already dressed, she thought wryly as she made her way unsteadily down the stairs to the utility closet. You can do it, she encouraged herself. The girls will be back to help later today. Just make it through the next few hours, take it one room at a time, and you’ll be fine.
And with that she reached for the mop.
By the time Maggie started on the third room, however, she was on autopilot. She went through the motions mindlessly, every movement more of an effort than the last. In fact, she was so out of it that it took several rings before she realized someone was at her front door. Her gaze flew to the steps in panic. Please, Lord, not a guest, she prayed as she made her way stiffly down the stairs. Not yet. Not this early.
This time her prayers were answered. When she swung the door open, she found Jake, not a guest.
In one swift, assessing glance he came to the obvious conclusion. She was sick as a dog and, judging by the faint scent of disinfectant cleaner drifting his way and the mop in her hand, she was not resting. Without a word he took her arm and ushered her inside, forcing her to sit in the closest chair before he knelt beside her. He put his hand on her forehead, and this time it was not only hot but clammy. A muscle in his jaw clenched and he frowned.
“What are you doing with that mop?” he demanded.
“Cleaning.”
“What happened to Eileen?”
“She has the bug, too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
“What good would that have done?”
He ignored that comment for the moment. “Have you called the doctor?”
“It’s just a bug, Jake. Something’s been going around. I was just lucky till now. I guess it was my turn.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue the point. Instead, he stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. You’re going back to bed.”
She shook her head. “Jake, you don’t understand. I have ten guests arriving this afternoon beginning at two o’clock. I’ve only cleaned two of the four rooms and I still have the cottage to do. I’ll barely make it as it is. I can’t lay down now.”
“Maggie, you’re sick. You should never have gotten up today in the first place.”
She sighed, blinking away the tears of weariness that sprang to her eyes. “Jake, try to understand. Eileen and the girls are my only backup. There isn’t anyone else I can call.”
“Yes, there is.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Who?”
“Me. I learned to wield a pretty mean mop in the navy. They don’t tolerate slobs, you know,” he said, flashing her a brief grin.
She stared at him. Jake West cleaning a house? It was incomprehensible. As she recalled, he had always put housekeeping duties on a par with going to the dentist.
“Don’t look so shocked,” he admonished her gently, with that disconcerting habit he had of reading her mind. “Times change. People change. You can trust me to do a good job. I promise your guests won’t complain.”
“It’s not that...” She was still having a hard time comprehending his generous offer. And even if he was sincere, it was too much to ask. “Jake, I can’t let you do my work. It’s not right. And don’t give me that good deed business. This goes way above and beyond that.”
He crouched down beside her once again, his warm, brown eyes level with hers, and took her cold hand in his. “Maggie, I want to do this, okay? You’re sick. You’ll only get sicker if you push yourself.” He paused a moment, then took a deep breath. “Look, I know that you’re still trying to grapple with this whole situation between us. To be honest, so am I. But fate, or whatever you care to call it, brought us back together. I don’t know why. But at the bare minimum I’d like to be your friend—whatever that takes, and despite the fact that I don’t deserve it. And friends take care of each other. Let me take care of you today, Maggie. As a friend.”
She listened to Jake’s heartfelt speech in silence, unable to doubt the sincerity in his eyes—or ignore the tenderness. He cared for her, that was clear. And, God help her, she was beginning to care for him again. She didn’t want to. She told herself it was unwise. That it was risky, that she could get hurt again. But she couldn’t help it. Because the Jake that had walked back into her life not only had all the good qualities she remembered, he had become even better. Under other circumstances, he was the kind of man she could easily fall in love with. There was nothing in his present behavior to make her cautious.
It was his past behavior that worried her. His track record wasn’t good. And that made her very cautious. Her wariness wasn’t something that could be overcome in a week, or a month, or maybe even
a year. She’d been burned once before by this man and left with scars—plus a very real fear of fire.
Jake scrutinized her face, but for once he couldn’t read her thoughts. He didn’t want to push himself on her, but he’d already decided he wasn’t going to walk away and let her face the housecleaning task alone. If necessary, he would insist—and deal with the consequences later. But he hoped she would just accept her limitations and be sensible.
“Maggie?” he prodded gently, exerting slight pressure on her hand when she didn’t respond.
Jake’s voice brought her back to the present. She was deeply touched by his offer, whatever his motivation. And like it or not, she needed help today. The Lord had obviously seen that need and provided for it. Maybe the help wasn’t in the form she would have chosen, but who was she to question His motives?
“All right, Jake. Thank you. To be honest, I—I’m not sure I could have made it anyway.”
Considering how she prided herself on her self-reliance, Jake knew she must be a whole lot sicker than she was letting on, to admit that she wasn’t able to handle the task in front of her. Once more he stood and gently reached for her hands, drawing her to her feet. He put his arm around her shoulders, and as they walked slowly up the stairs she leaned on him heavily—another indication of her weakened physical state. No way would she lean on him—literally or figuratively—unless she was in bad shape.
He paused at the landing, giving her a chance to catch her breath.
“Where’s your room?”
She nodded toward the back stairway at the end of the hall. “Third floor.”
By the time they made it up the much narrower stairway to her bedroom, he could feel her quivering. They passed an open door that revealed a spacious, gaily decorated dormer room with two twin beds. Obviously the twins’ domain, he thought with a smile, noting the posters of the girls’ latest movie heartthrobs.
Maggie’s room was much smaller, squeezed under the eaves near the front of the house. It was very simply furnished and decorated, as if she’d poured all of her attention into the rest of the house and simply not bothered with her own little piece of it. As he gently eased her down onto the narrow twin bed, his throat contracted with tenderness and admiration for this woman who had struggled against all odds to overcome traumas and challenges that would have overwhelmed most people. Jake didn’t know where she had found the strength to face each day, especially in those early years. But as he knelt to remove her shoes, his eyes fell on the Bible on her nightstand, and he suspected that was probably its source. She’d always had a strong faith, and it clearly had sustained her spiritually through the difficult years.
But how had she managed emotionally? he wondered. Maggie had so much love to give. Had it all been directed to the girls? He suspected so. As he tucked the covers around her shoulders, he felt that the single bed in the small attic room spoke more eloquently than words of her solitary state. He started to speak, then realized that she had already fallen asleep. Gently he reached down to brush a wisp of hair off her forehead, his fingers dropping to linger on her cheek. As he gazed at her pale face, a fierce surge of protectiveness washed over him.
Ever since their paths had crossed, Jake had felt increasingly drawn to the woman who had once, long ago, claimed his heart. At first he’d looked upon their reunion as a chance to at last find a way to ease the guilt that had plagued him for so long. Only a few minutes ago, he’d told Maggie that he hoped they could be friends. But now, as he stood beside her, he knew that his interest wasn’t motivated by guilt, and that his feelings went far beyond friendship.
He loved her. It was as simple—and as complicated—as that.
As he gazed tenderly down at her, he thought of the Maggie he’d once loved. All the essential qualities he’d cherished were still there. But she’d changed, too. And he found that he loved the new Maggie, with her self-reliance and confidence and decisive manner, even more than he had loved the dependent young woman who had once deferred to his every decision. He liked her grit and her spunk and her strength—and her soft heart, which hadn’t changed one iota.
Jake walked slowly to the door, pausing at the threshold to glance back once more at Maggie’s sleeping form. She was quite a woman, he thought. She deserved to find a man who would love her and stand by her no matter what, who believed in honoring commitments and wasn’t afraid of responsibility, who could be counted on to stand with her through good times and bad.
Jake had failed her once on that score, but he vowed silently that he never would again. The question was, how could he convince her of that?
Jake didn’t have the answer. But he knew one thing with absolute certainty. He would find a way. Because suddenly a future without Maggie was not something he was willing to consider.
Chapter Seven
“See, Allison, I told you it was him!”
Abby’s triumphant voice heralded the arrival of the twins at the kitchen door, and Jake glanced up from the pot he was stirring. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted them with an engaging grin.
They simultaneously dumped their knapsacks on the floor and joined him.
“What are you doing here?” Abby asked curiously. “And where’s Aunt Maggie?”
“She’s in bed with the flu. I’m making her some soup.”
“You’re cooking?” Allison was clearly impressed.
Jake grinned. “I don’t think heating up a can of soup exactly qualifies as cooking.”
“How sick is she?” Abby asked with a frown of concern.
“Pretty sick.”
“Where’s Eileen?”
“She’s got the same bug.”
“But...but what about the cleaning?” Allison asked in alarm. “What will we tell the guests when they arrive?”
“The guests have already arrived and they’re all settled in,” Jake informed them calmly as he transferred the soup to a bowl and put it on a tray. “Your aunt started the cleaning, and I finished up.”
“You mean...you mean you helped clean the rooms?” Abby asked incredulously.
Jake gave them a look of mock indignation. “Don’t you think I’m capable of wielding a mop and broom?”
“It’s not that,” Allison said quickly. “It’s just that...well, guys don’t usually offer to pitch in on stuff like that.”
“Well, let me tell you ladies a little secret,” Jake said conspiratorially. “Men know how to clean. They just pretend they don’t. So keep that in mind whenever you meet Mr. Right.”
“I bet you had trouble convincing Aunt Maggie to let you help,” Allison speculated.
“A little,” he admitted with a grin.
Suddenly Abby frowned. “Gosh, she must be really sick if she gave in and went to bed.”
“It’s just the flu,” Jake assured them as he added a cup of tea and some crackers to the tray. “But she’s probably not going to have a whole lot of energy for a few days. Do you think you two can pick up the slack?”
“Sure. No problem. This is our summer job, anyway. We’ll just put in a little overtime. Aunt Maggie’s done it often enough for us.”
They really were good kids, Jake reflected. Maggie had raised them well. “Great. Now, if you two can get the breakfast preparations under way, I’ll take this up to your aunt.”
The twins watched him disappear through the door, then Allison sank down on a convenient chair and sighed. “Wow! Talk about Sir Galahad!”
Abby joined her on an adjacent chair and propped her chin dreamily in her hand. “Yeah.”
There was silence for a moment while they both mulled over this latest turn of events, and then Allison turned to her sister. “Do you think maybe something might come of this after all? I mean, I know Aunt Maggie keeps saying that their relationship is in the past and all that, but how many guys would clean toilets for
a woman they don’t care about?”
“I think it has very interesting possibilities,” Abby replied with a thoughtful nod. “I think Aunt Maggie still cares, too. She just won’t admit it—to us or herself. But maybe we can find a way to give her a nudge.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Abby smiled smugly. “Well, as a matter of fact...I have a plan.”
* * *
Jake eased Maggie’s door open with one shoulder and cast a worried glance toward the bed. He’d checked on her a couple of times during the afternoon, and she’d been sleeping soundly. Now, however, she was sitting up, bent over, struggling to tie her shoes.
He pushed the door all the way open and strode inside. “What are you doing?” he demanded with a frown. He deposited the tray on the dresser and turned to face her, clamping his hands on his hips.
She looked up, startled. “Jake, it’s after five! I’m surprised none of the guests have arrived yet,” she said, her voice edged with panic.
“They have arrived. All of them.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, no! What did you tell them?”
“I told them hello. Then I welcomed them to Whispering Sails and asked if I could help with their luggage. I think that’s the spiel, isn’t it?”
Her frantic hands stilled on the laces and she stared him. “You mean...you checked everyone in?”
“Mmm-hmm. I looked them all up in the guest book on the desk in the foyer. It was a piece of cake.” He picked up the tray and came to sit beside her. “Dinner,” he explained, placing it on her lap.
She stared down at the soup, then back at him. “Jake, I...” Her voice choked, and she looked down in embarrassment. She was usually able to keep her emotions under control, but she couldn’t stop the tears that sprang to her eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had stepped in as he had to ease her burden. The twins were great, of course. And they certainly would have helped if they’d been here. But they were family. Family members did those kinds of things for each other. But Jake wasn’t family. He was... Well, she wasn’t sure exactly what he was. He said he wanted to be her friend. But a moment later, when he took her chin in gentle fingers and turned her head toward his, the look in his eyes said a whole lot more than friendship.
