Designed for Love (18 page)

Jillian returned just as her face was starting to ache from the faux gesture. The room had emptied out except for one woman, who lingered in the kitchen talking to Rose.

“Are you okay?” Jillian asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. You just look—uh, nothing. Never mind.”

“You brought back Mary’s furniture,” Wil said, still hoping she could escape quickly after a bit of polite conversation. But even that was difficult, with Jillian acting as if they were nothing more than casual acquaintances. Wil deliberately hardened herself. What was it they said? The best defense is a good offense.

Jillian glanced around the room, satisfied with the result. She had already contacted an auction house in Knoxville about disposing of the pieces, but decided that until then they could be put to good use this weekend. “It’s amazing how a little bit of staging can make a house look like a home.”

“Ever the real-estate agent, huh?”

“What?”

Wil looked disappointed and Jillian wondered why that bothered her. “I should have figured you were just concerned about your sale.”

“Well, now I’m confused, Wil.” Jillian put her hands on her hips, irritated by Wil’s tone. “During this entire project you’ve accused me of spending without thinking of profit. And now you’re saying just the opposite. So which is it? Do you find me foolish or opportunistic?”

Wil’s expression hardened. “Maybe a little of both,” she said sharply.

“Why are you here, anyway?” Wil’s words stung, but it was the detachment in her eyes that drew blood. Jillian hadn’t expected to see Wil again, nor had she expected that it would rattle her if she did.

“Just fulfilling a business obligation.”

“Well, then consider it fulfilled,” Jillian bit out before turning her back on Wil. She stalked into the kitchen, ignoring a curious look from Rose as she showed the last of the visitors out through the front. When she dared to glance back toward the living room, it was empty. Wil had apparently left as well.

Good riddance. A business obligation? What the hell did that mean? Was Jillian nothing more than business to her? She’d done the job and had her fun in the process and now was ready to wash her hands of Jillian. And why should that bother Jillian so much? After all, she’d never put it in such cold terms, but she had agreed it was temporary and physical.

Chapter Fourteen

“Damn it!” Jillian flung the bedroom door shut behind her because she needed to slam something. But the loud bang did nothing to ease her irritation. Overall, the open house had been a success. One young family seemed very interested in the house, and Jillian had exchanged numbers with their agent. She should be concentrating on that instead of letting Wil get under her skin. She paced the length of the room, trying not to think about what emotions hid beneath Wil’s cool exterior.

Her gaze landed on the bureau and, remembering the photo album she’d tucked in one of the drawers weeks ago, she crossed the room. She pulled open the handle a bit too hard and, distracted, she didn’t catch the drawer as it flew out.

“Ow, shit,” she cried. She grabbed her foot and hopped to the bed. A red line ran across the top of her foot and a knot was already forming. She stood and gingerly bore weight, and when the throbbing didn’t increase she decided nothing was broken.

The drawer lay upside down and something was taped to the bottom of it. Jillian limped over and lowered herself to the floor. She slid her finger beneath the yellowed envelope and the aged adhesive came free easily. It was a letter, addressed to Aunt Mary. Jillian carefully slipped the piece of paper from the envelope and unfolded it.

Dearest Mary,

Words cannot express what you mean to me. These past years have been the happiest of my life. I love you with all my heart, and while I don’t understand your choice, I respect your decision. I wish I could say that we would always be friends, but I fear I’m not strong enough to watch you make a life with him when I want you for my own. I hope you find happiness.

Yours always,

Rose

Jillian stared at the flowing script and tried to reconcile the woman she’d come to know with the heartbroken soul who wrote this letter. She knew Rose had never married and now she knew why. Had Rose met anyone else in the years since Mary? Recalling the touches of sadness she’d seen in Rose, she guessed that, if she had, none had measured up to the true love of her life.

*

“Jillian, what a lovely surprise. Come in.” Rose stepped back and waited for Jillian to enter. “I was just making some tea. Would you like some?”

“No, thank you.”

Jillian followed her to the kitchen and waited while she poured steaming water into a delicate china cup. She carried it to the table and sat down.

“Have a seat. Did you get any serious inquiries yesterday?”

“Maybe. One couple with young children showed interest. They wanted to think about it. But I’m confident they’ll make an offer.”

“That’s good news.”

Uncertain how to broach the subject except to be direct, Jillian pulled the worn envelope from her purse. Torn between curiosity and respect for Rose’s privacy, Jillian had tucked the letter in a drawer until she could return it this morning. “I found this among Mary’s things and thought you might want to have it.”

Rose’s eyes were riveted on the letter Jillian held out, but she didn’t take it.

Jillian laid it on the table. “Well, I don’t think I should be the one to throw it away. I’m sorry. I read it before I realized who it was from.”

Rose finally picked it up and slowly, almost reverently, ran a finger over Mary’s name on the outside of the envelope.

“You and Mary were more than just friends.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“I think it does. You obviously cared for her very much.”

Rose sighed. “It was ages ago. I was a naïve girl. When you’re in your twenties you think anything is possible. But reality is a bit colder.”

“Just yesterday you were trying to convince me anything was possible.”

“Those were different times. We weren’t supposed to be open. This town wouldn’t have accepted us, and Mary couldn’t live like that. I made my own attempts at conformity, but the only happiness that ever brought me was my daughter. Mary was apparently more successful than I.”

Jillian recognized the sorrow in Rose’s tone. “She broke your heart.”

“She was ashamed of us,” Rose said tersely.

The urge to defend Mary was overshadowed by the tears in Rose’s eyes. Jillian couldn’t imagine loving someone so much that the wound was still fresh fifty years later.
Will I still wonder what I could have had with Wil fifty years from now?

“It’s all history now. They were married for fifty-five years. I’m sure she had a happy life,” Rose said, as if Mary’s happiness was all that mattered.

“She kept the letter.”

“Do you suppose that brings me any comfort now?”

Would it? What difference did it really make to find out that Mary probably loved Rose to her dying day? They were still robbed of a life together. And at least if Mary was happy Rose could feel it was worth it, but if they were both miserable it was a waste.

“There’s nothing I can do to change it now.” Rose stood and crossed the kitchen. She tucked the letter in a drawer and Jillian wondered what the steel in her spine cost her. “The question is what are
you
going to do?”

Jillian considered the question. A week ago, she’d thought she knew what direction she was heading in. “One part of me wants to get in my car and drive away as fast as I can.”

“And the other part?”

Jillian sighed. “Maybe it’s as you said. It’s all history now.”

“Is it? Walking away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Would you do it again?”

“No.” Rose shook her head firmly. “I’ve learned a few things over the years. I thought I was being selfless, giving her what she asked for, when really I was just frightened.”

“Of what?”

“That I could never be enough. That if I fought for her, she would still choose him.”

“Well, this isn’t the same situation. There is no
him.
”

“No. But the thing I didn’t realize at the time was that she was just as scared as I was.”

“And you think Wil is scared?”

“Sweetheart, this is a small town, and I’ve known Wilhelmina since she was very young.” Rose reached across the table and covered Jillian’s hand with hers. “And I can tell you, without a doubt, that child is petrified.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

“Me?”

Rose studied Jillian with kind, moist eyes. “She’s afraid she won’t be able to keep you happy. That you’ll miss the city and want to leave.”

Suddenly Jillian understood. “Like her mother did.”

“Do you love her?”

Jillian nodded, swallowing against a sudden ache in her throat.

“Then hold on to that. There
is
a way to work everything else out.”

*

Jillian stood at the edge of the woods, where the clearing opened and stretched down to the lake. Directly in front of her sat the camo ATV devoid of its rider. Jillian searched the shoreline and found her sitting close to the water with her knees pulled up to her chest. Wil stared over the lake and Jillian could only see her profile. Regardless, she was too far away to study her expression. The sun was only an hour from touching the horizon, then Wil would be a silhouette.

After her talk with Rose, she’d taken a walk to clear her head. She kept replaying Rose’s promise that they could find a way to work everything out. But she still had her doubts. She’d never quite bought the whole love-conquers-all thing. This was real life, and there were worlds between her and Wil. Naturally, she would miss her. Their connection was stronger than any Jillian had felt before, like a physical cord strung between two hearts.

But as Wil said, she couldn’t leave Redmond. So then the question became, could Jillian leave the convenience of city life behind her? In Redmond, she couldn’t see the latest theater production or order Chinese takeout on a whim. Here there were no new condos to sell or high-rise development deals.

As Jillian had reached the town square, she’d paused and taken a deep breath of the freshest air she’d ever filled her lungs with. The front door of the pharmacy opened and a woman ushered two small boys onto the sidewalk. The elder couldn’t be more than five years old, and as his mother reached for his hand, he sneezed. She grabbed his wrist before he would wipe his fist under his nose, then bent and pulled a tissue out of her purse. The woman was probably on a first-name basis with the pharmacist. She could call the clinic doctor in the middle of the night for a child’s fever and he would probably make a house call.

Jillian had continued through the square and turned down the street toward home. By now she knew the exact spot where the sidewalk bowed and allowed a ridge of root from a large oak tree to peek through. She had pored through the contrasts between Redmond and Cincinnati until she realized she had really only one decision to make. She could compare the superficial aspects of both places, but that had nothing to do with the value she now sought. She’d never felt anything was missing from her life, until she’d come here.

Clarity came as she mounted the steps to Mary’s house. After making several phone calls, she’d grabbed her keys and set out again, this time in the car. She’d made her decision, and now she owed Wil this conversation before she considered things settled between them.

But first she wanted to look at her for a moment longer. It didn’t seem possible that in only six weeks, this woman had come to mean so much to her. Wil had cared for her and challenged her like no woman ever had. She had found in a contractor in Redmond, Tennessee, something she hadn’t even realized she’d been searching for.

When Wil stood and turned, Jillian stepped out of the shadows and walked toward her. She was close enough to see Wil’s face when she noticed Jillian’s presence, and her heart sank as a door slammed between them. She stopped a few feet from Wil.

“I didn’t take the offer.” Jillian paused but Wil’s expression remained stoic. “I’m opening my own firm instead.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’m starting out small, working from home to save expenses.”

“You walked all the way down here to tell me that?”

Jillian moved forward, pausing next to Wil’s ATV. She touched the hand grip nervously, wishing she could read something in Wil’s eyes. “I came to offer you a job.”

“A job?”

“Yeah, I need some help making the changes to Mary’s house—well, my house, actually—in order to create a suitable office and reception area. I was thinking about turning the dining room into an office. Then I could close the pocket doors while meeting with clients.”

“Rose said you expected to get an offer on the house.”