The Legacy (3 page)

Jessica turns, a wide smile lighting her face. “Hello, my
dear. Come and sit with us.” She places a casserole, several side
dishes, and a basket of rolls on the table, continuing to smile as
the woman approaches.
“Hello,” Cisely says, taking a seat at the table, her eyes
never breaking contact with Ingo’s.
Ingo is motionless, unable to tear his gaze away from her.
She is absolutely the most beautiful thing he has ever seen and
his hands suddenly itch to hold his camera and capture her on
film. He is gawking like an idiot and he knows it, but he can't
help it. Continuing to stare, he takes in her every feature.
During his years as a photographer, he has taken his share of
photos of beautiful women. But none of them hold a candle to
the one before him now, even with the slight sadness in her
eyes. None have ever come close. And the silky tone of her
greeting only adds to her allure.
It is obvious to Ingo that she's been taken off guard by
his presence, but he also sees recognition in her eyes. Maybe
she has seen one of Jessica's photos of him. Watching her study
him, he wonders what she is thinking and takes a mental
account of his features. His hair is a wavy, light brown with
blond highlights, and his eyes are a steel gray. Women find him
handsome, but this is the first time a woman's thoughts really
mattered. He watches her pull her eyes away and quickly glance
at Jessica.
Jessica clears her throat. “Cisely, I would like you to meet
my
nephew,
Ingo.
Ingo,
this
is
my
dear
friend,
Cisely
Matthews.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, standing and
extending his hand, smiling as she shakes it timidly. She is tall,
he notices, maybe five-foot-nine or ten. At six-foot-four, he
still towers over her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”
Sighing inwardly, allowing the tone of her silky voice to
wash over him, he reluctantly releases her hand and sits back
down across from her.
After Jessica pronounces a blessing on the food, and
when they have begun to eat, Ingo asks his aunt, “How do you
two know each other?”
“I met Cisely when I visited North Carolina in January.”
The two women exchange smiles. “We hit it off immediately
and spent some time together while I was there. I invited her to
come and stay for a while in the hope that she will come to
love it here so much, she'll want to stay. She has only been here
for a couple of weeks and we've had a splendid time. I feel like
I’ve known her forever.”
Ingo turns his gaze back to Cisely. “And how
do
you like
Salt Lake so far?”
“I love it,” she answers, again meeting his eyes. “Utah is
very beautiful, and Jessica has been wonderful, almost like a
mother to me. I feel very welcome and fortunate to be here.”
“It is I who am fortunate,” Jessica says. “I only hope you
will choose to make this your home.”
Ingo watches the change in Cisely's expression and can
almost sense her discomfort at being the center of attention.
He wonders if she has always been this way or if it is just his
presence. She looks like she is ready to escape, and she has
hardly eaten. This is not good. Not good at all. She stands and
picks up her plate, her food barely touched.
“Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone to visit.”
“Oh, please don’t go,” Ingo says standing quickly, trying
not to sound eager but failing miserably. “Stay and talk with us
for a while.” There is indecision in her eyes. He doesn't try at
all to hide the hopeful look in his, and he senses her warming
slightly.
“I don't want to intrude on your visit together.”
“You're not intruding,” Jessica says.
Ingo again notices the twinkle in his aunt's blue eyes, and
for the first time ever, he sees her in matchmaker mode. He
almost laughs because it is so unlike her.
When Cisely sits back down, Ingo begins asking her
questions about herself. Her answers are brief and he gains no
insight into her life at all. Glancing at his aunt, it is obvious she
has picked up on Cisely’s evasiveness as well. He wishes she
would open up more and hopes in time she will.
Ingo tells her about his job as a freelance photographer
and talks with them about his two older brothers and the sheep
station they own and run together. And once again he has
Jessica in stitches as he talks about his parents', as well as his
aunt and uncles' matchmaking escapades.
Ingo loves the way Cisely listens to him intently and
hopes his own carefree nature won't overwhelm her. He has
always been one to embrace life with both hands and she seems
more reserved than any woman he's ever met before. But when
she smiles, it lights up his whole world and fills him with
warmth.
Cisely finally muffles a yawn and he accepts that their
evening is drawing to a close.
“I think I’ll turn in now,” she says, standing. She takes her
plate over to the sink.
He takes his over as well. “It has been a pleasure visiting
with you.”
“It's been fun,” she tells him. “I’ll see you both in the
morning.” She turns to leave.
“Hey, Cisely.” He stops her with a light touch on her
arm. “Are you busy tomorrow? I mean . . . if you aren’t, I
would really like to take you out. That is, if you don’t have any
plans.”
She stares at him blankly. He has caught her off guard
again in a major way. “Uh, I have to work. I’m–”
“That won’t be a problem,” Jessica cuts in quickly. “I was
thinking about going into the shop tomorrow for a while
anyway. So why don’t you two go out and have some fun?”
Ingo watches Cisely's eyes widen and almost feels guilty
for putting her on the spot. Almost.
“But . . .” she sputters.
“No buts,” Jessica says. “You should get out for a bit. It
will be good for both of you.”
Cisely finally turns to Ingo and pauses before saying,
“Sure. I would be happy to go out with you.”
“Great,” he says with an easy smile, attempting to keep
his excitement level down. Inside he is almost flying apart.
“Then I will see you in the morning.”
“Okay.” She smiles slightly. “Goodnight, Ingo.”
“Goodnight, Cisely.”
She stares at him a moment longer before finally turning
away. “Goodnight, Jessica.”
“Goodnight, dear. Sleep well.”

Jessica watches Ingo watching Cisely leave the kitchen,
warmed by the way things are going between the two. If ever
two people produced fireworks, it was those two.
She listens to Ingo sigh as he walks back to the table. “I
don’t know how it happened, Aunt Jessica, but I’m pretty sure
she just took my heart upstairs with her.”
“I think I knew that,” she agrees, unable to mask the
sadness in her voice.
“What is it, Aunt Jessica?”
“I have grown very fond of Cisely, and I’ve been so
happy having her here, but she seems to be surrounded by a
wall I can’t break through no matter how hard I try.”
“What do you mean?”
Jessica sighs deeply. “She is such a wonderful person, but
I think she’s carrying around a lot of unnecessary guilt.” She
pauses, rubbing her eyes. “From what Cisely has told me, and
you as well, she had a pretty hard life being raised by an
alcoholic mother and all, but I think there is more to it than she
will say. I don’t know the full extent of what she has gone
through, but I do know this: for some reason she can’t seem to
let go of her past. She seems to handle her childhood okay, but
I think it’s the choices she made later in life that she is having
problems with.
“She feels unworthy of anything good happening to her,
even though that part of her life no longer matters. I think she
feels that she will never be good enough.” Jessica wipes her
eyes again as more tears fill them. “She has never said it, but I
can sense her feeling of worthlessness, and at times I can see it
in her eyes. That is part of the reason I offered her the job at
the boutique while she’s here. I told her it was because I knew
she wanted to pay her own way, which was true, but I also did
it to help her somehow feel better about herself.”
Ingo's eyes drift to the kitchen entrance, his thoughts
following Cisely upstairs. “How could someone so beautiful
and incredible . . . how can she feel that way about herself?”
“I don’t know. But I do know she couldn’t be more
wrong. I've witnessed first hand how marvelous she is. She just
needs to learn to see the good in herself and not dwell on the
past.”
Ingo
silently
contemplates
his
decision
to
stay
with
Jessica. At first, he couldn’t understand why he had felt such a
strong need to be there. He'd even thought about staying with
his best friend, Adagio, in Italy, but it just didn’t feel right.
Adagio had been disappointed when he decided not to come to
Italy but said he understood. He told Ingo he needed to do
what he felt was best. At that time, Ingo didn’t know what was
best.
For the next couple of weeks, he still couldn’t dismiss the
urgent need to stay with Jessica.
Now he understands why.
Pondering this a moment, a slow smile spreads across his
face. “I don’t know when or how, Aunt Jessica, but I know I
am supposed to be here for Cisely. It might sound crazy, but I
feel we are meant to be together . . . that I am meant to be here
for her.”
“I feel it too,” Jessica replies, her voice soft. “I feel it
too.”

Unable to sleep, I stare up into the darkness, still unable
to believe I agreed to go out with Ingo. Of course, Jessica
hadn't give me much of a choice. I had to accept, and as much
as I try to deny it, deep down I wanted to. I haven’t dated
anyone since leaving the party life, and even before then, it
wasn’t what you could really call dating because it never went
beyond a night. I shudder as the terrible memories come back,
and I wonder if I can to go through with this.

Ingo is so good–everything I am not–and the last thing I
need is to fall in love with him and risk being hurt, or hurting
him
. If I'm not careful, that’s exactly what will happen, and the
falling part won't be very hard. Already, he has found a place in
my heart I didn't want found.

Closing my eyes, I picture his handsome face, hear his
thick Australian accent singing in my ears, and see his kind
eyes. Taking in the wonder of our visit for a moment, I sigh,
shaking my head.

He’s too good for me anyway,
I decide.
Or rather, I’m not good
enough for him. He needs someone good and wholesome, and clean. He
needs someone pure.

Someone that is all the things I’m not.
Still, even with all the negative thoughts running through
my head, deep within the secret reaches of my heart, love is the
one thing I want more than anything. To be loved by someone
so deeply and completely that none of the things in my past will
matter. I just don’t know if it is even possible for me to open
up and trust someone enough to give him my heart.
Giving in to the urge to do something I haven't done
since I was a child, I get up, slip to my knees by the bed, and
silently pour my heart out to God, because I desperately need
comfort.
Ending my prayer, I stay on my knees a moment longer
before climbing back into bed. I continue to stare up into the
darkness, longing for some peace in my heart concerning the
past. Sighing, I make a final request before closing my eyes.
Please help me to get through tomorrow.