Always in Her Heart (8 page)

Link pulled into the parking lot in front of a block of apartments. He parked, then turned to her.

“Look, Annie, we knew Frank and Julia would cause problems. I have to admit, I didn't foresee that they'd set up a nursery to impress the social worker.”

“But they did. Enid Bradshaw may think they've been longing to have a child.”

“She's a smart cookie. She'll realize that ‘Marcy's room' has been put together in the past week, and by a decorator, not by Julia. As for those toys, they probably went online and ordered everything that was recommended for a twenty-month-old.”

“However they did it, they did a good job. I hope you're right about Mrs. Bradshaw, because I found it pretty impressive.”

Link shook his head, then reached for the door handle. “Let's finish this conversation inside, okay?”

She followed him to the apartment door, then inside, stepping over a pile of mail that had been shoved through the mail slot. Link pushed envelopes and magazines out of the way, shut the door and turned to face her.

“Okay, what's this really about?”

“That should be obvious.” She folded her arms across her chest. His apartment felt chilled and deserted. “The Lesters are—”

“The Lesters are two people interested in nothing more than Marcy's inheritance. I still say you're overreacting.” He frowned, looking at her searchingly.

“That's what we keep saying, isn't it.” She rubbed her arms, turning away from Link's intense gaze. “But what if we're wrong?”

“What are you talking about?” Link caught her elbows and swung her around to face him. “Wrong about what?”

The insidious doubt that crept through her in the dark moments of the night suddenly blossomed. “What if I'm wrong? What if I'm not the best person for Marcy? I want to be, but—”

Link gave her a light shake. “Annie, wake up. You're letting fear get the better of you.” He sounded angry. “This is Marcy we're talking about. You love
that baby more than anyone else in the world. No one could be better for that child than you.”

His emotion pierced the misery that had surrounded her since she'd seen that picture-perfect nursery. She took a breath, forcing tight muscles to relax. She shook her head, smiling a little.

“You're right.”

His grip eased, but he still watched her warily. “I'm glad you realize that.”

“I don't know what got into me. I just lost my confidence all of a sudden.”

“Well, don't. You're what's best for Marcy, and we're going to prove it. Right?”

She nodded. “Right.”

“Okay, then.” He released her. “If you don't mind waiting a second, I'll get some things I need from the bedroom.”

He crossed the room with quick strides and disappeared through a doorway. She glanced around.

Becca had been right. The place did look like a motel. The beige carpeting and beige walls were typical of a rental unit, but most people would make the place their own with furnishings, pictures, knickknacks.

It didn't look as if Link had done a thing. The faux-Danish-modern living room set had to have come with the apartment. Link surely wouldn't have gone out and bought it deliberately. The only personal item in sight was a photo of Link and Davis, wearing hard
hats, standing in front of an excavation and grinning proudly.

Link had said he didn't know how to be a father. Based on the evidence, he also didn't know how to make a home. The neglected child who'd been hauled from one furnished apartment to another probably hadn't had a chance to learn that.

He came back into the room carrying a cardboard box, then picked up the photograph and added it to the contents. He glanced around, as if to see whether there was anything else worth taking.

“Not much of a home, is it?” he said.

His words echoed her thoughts so accurately that she couldn't deny them. “I guess you didn't spend a lot of time here.”

“No.” Perhaps he saw the apartment through her eyes. “Becca offered to help me fix it up, but there always seemed to be more important things to do.” He shrugged, dismissing it. “Let's go.”

He scooped his mail into the box and they went out, snapping the door shut on the empty rooms. She waited while he stowed the box in the trunk, shivering a little as the wind whipped fallen leaves across the parking lot. She'd been cold since she left the house that morning, and it wasn't just a question of the temperature.

The Lesters' place, elegant though it had been, hadn't felt like a home to her. The chill in the atmosphere hadn't been physical, but she'd felt it. They
lived in an expensively decorated vacuum that didn't betray a thing about who they were or what they valued.

Link's apartment, cold and barren, spoke volumes about who he was. He was a man on the way up, too busy to be bothered with mundane things like home and family.

She was living in her sister's house, trying to pretend she was making a home there with Link. None of them had a real home. It was all pretend.

“I
have to speak to the men for a minute. You can stay here, if you want, so you won't get your shoes muddy. I'll be finished in plenty of time to pick up Marcy.”

Annie nodded, then watched as Link strode quickly toward the bare frames of houses at the lakeside project. This was where Link's heart was—not in relationships or family. In his work. Specifically, in this project he and Davis had started.

She tried to visualize what Link saw in the clutter of raw framing, stacks of materials and piles of earth. He was building the houses into the hillside, facing the lake. The workers hadn't cut the surrounding trees, and the leaves that had begun to drift to the ground softened the raw appearance of the site.

The view was the best part, as far as she was concerned. Clear blue water stretched across the valley,
its surface rippling in the light breeze and glinting in the sunshine. On the far side, the hills were hazy against the sky, with a hint of gold and orange showing in the green of the trees. The lake, a shimmering mirror, reflected the outline of hills and clouds. She pictured sitting on a deck with a mug of morning coffee, feeding her soul with such a glimpse of God's creation.

She looked back at the construction. Ironic, in a way, that the boy who'd never had a real home, the man who didn't bother to establish a home of his own, loved to create for others what he'd never had for himself.

Obviously the Lesters thought of their cold elegance as home. She saw again the nursery they, or their decorator, had created for Marcy, and felt a shiver of panic. Link was certainly giving Mrs. Bradshaw a lot of credit, assuming she could see through their facade to what was in Frank and Julia's hearts.

No. She couldn't let herself obsess about what was happening at the Lester house right now. She had to have faith that God would work this out.

She'd take a closer look at the houses, mud or no mud. That would occupy her mind until the moment when she had Marcy back in her arms again.

She picked her way across the torn-up earth, approaching the nearest of the buildings. It seemed to be the farthest along, with its roof nearly complete.

A movement caught her eye, and she saw Link step out onto the roof as easily as she would step onto a
pavement. He walked lightly along the roof edge, emerging from shadow into sun.

The light hit him. It outlined his tall figure, glinted from his dark hair, dazzled the eye. She stopped, feeling her heart thump wildly.

Maybe being around him so much for the past week had dimmed her realization of the effect he had on her. She'd begun to take it for granted, just as the carpenters must take for granted working thirty feet from the ground.

That didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. That didn't mean falling wouldn't hurt.

The trouble was, she couldn't help it. She was falling in love with him again.

No.

The thought was so emphatic she had to look around to be sure she hadn't said it aloud. But if she had, there was no one close enough to hear.

She took a breath, trying to rein in the thoughts that galloped through her mind like runaway horses. She couldn't fall in love with Link. She couldn't. They both knew this marriage was make-believe—that it would end as soon as Marcy was safe.

She wouldn't embarrass both of them by feeling something for Link that he clearly didn't feel for her. Even if all the other good reasons why she shouldn't love him miraculously vanished, that was still plain.

What am I doing, Lord?
Her prayer felt desperate.
Is this just imagination, the result of being thrown so close together at such a traumatic time? Please, help
me understand what's happening. Show me what to do.

“What do you think?”

Link's question startled her so that for a moment she feared he'd seen into her thoughts. Then she realized he was talking about the building.

“It will probably be lovely when it's done.” She shaded her eyes to look up at him.

He laughed, balancing on the edge of the roof in a way that made her dizzy.

“It doesn't look like anything yet, but it will.” He gestured, swinging his arm wide, and her heart lurched. “There'll be a deck off the living room there, looking out over the lake.”

“Wonderful.” She tried to breathe. “Now, would you please come down if you're going to talk to me?”

His chuckle was warm and teasing. “Afraid of heights, Annie? I'll be down in a second.” He turned to call a few instructions to one of the workmen, then swung himself onto a ladder and scrambled down.

A few feet from the ground, he paused and looked down at her, his eyes betraying amusement. “Sure you wouldn't like to come up? There's a great view from the top.”

“No, thanks.” She hoped her tone was prim enough to disguise the fact that she was breathless. “But don't let me keep you from anything you need to do.”

He dropped to the ground next to her. “I'm fin
ished up there, but I need to find some papers in the trailer. Come along and see what the plans look like.”

He took her arm to lead her across the rough ground to a small metal trailer set in the shade of a huge hemlock. The simple gesture sent a shiver of awareness through her.

She tried to suppress the feeling. She had to get a handle on this, right now. Being so close to Link was like juggling dynamite—sooner or later it was bound to explode.

The green-and-white construction trailer sat a little distance from the houses, looking, oddly enough, more permanent than they did. Because it was a finished work, she supposed. The houses, when they were done, would fit into the wooded landscape in a way that the metal trailer couldn't.

“Watch your step.” Link clasped her elbow to help her up the cement block that served as a step into the trailer.

“I can manage.” She drew free as she stepped inside. She'd better manage. She'd better find a way to erase these irrational feelings.

Being in the close confines of the trailer certainly didn't help. Drawings lined the walls, and papers covered the long table. What appeared to be some sort of legal permit was pinned above the desk.

Link seemed to fill all the available space, so that no matter where she moved, she was within a foot of him. Clearly he wasn't as bothered by this proximity as she was. He looked totally preoccupied.

“That's what the project will look like when it's finished.” He nodded toward a detailed drawing that covered one wall of the trailer. “Davis did that for our presentation to the investors.”

He began sorting through a stack of files on the battered desk. As she moved closer to the drawing, she realized that her imagination hadn't been good enough to do justice to the project.

Ten houses blended into the surrounding trees, looking as if they had grown there. Each was individual, yet all of them harmonized. Link and Davis had taken advantage of the uniqueness of each site, employing a wraparound deck on one house, a soaring cathedral ceiling on another.

She touched the detail of a gracefully arched deck. “It really is a wonderful plan, Link. I can see why this means so much to you.”

He picked up a couple of files and joined her, his gaze fixed on the drawing. His eyes darkened, like those of a man seeing the woman he loved. He was looking at his dream.

Her throat tightened. A woman would have to be very special to compete with that.

“We wanted this project from the moment we heard the land was available. We had to sink everything we had into the property and materials, but it would be worth it. This project would put Conrad and Morgan on the map.”

“Would?” Something about his tone made it sound as if the dream had receded.

He shrugged. He was so close she felt the movement of his shoulders.

“This was doable with Davis's help.” He traced one of the houses with his fingertip, then planted his palm flat against the drawing. “We worked well together. We complemented each other in a lot of ways. Without him, it's not so easy.”

“But you've made a strong start. And Chet said that the board was behind the project.”

“Behind the project, yes.” He stared intently at the drawing, his dark eyes hooded, hiding his feelings. “Behind me? I'm not so sure.”

“They must know that you're the logical person to bring this project to a conclusion. Who else would do it?”

His mouth twisted a little. “Frank would like to be the boss, even though he knows little or nothing about construction work and even less about design.”

“There's your answer, then.” She wanted to wipe away the tension that was evident in every line of his body. “The other investors are surely smart enough to know that about Frank.”

“I hope so.” He straightened, running his hand through his hair and then clasping the back of his neck. “I'd be happy just to see a little less of him. I keep finding him wandering around the site. And Vera says he's been turning up at the office when I'm not there.”

“You can't keep him away?” She made it a question. At this point, anything Frank did that might have
a connection with Marcy's custody was of concern to her.

He shrugged. “His seat on the board gives him access to the office and the site. What he thinks he's going to find escapes me, but it's annoying, all the same.”

She rubbed her arms, thinking of Frank's smile. He made her more uneasy than annoyed.

“Are you cold?” Link put his arm around her shoulder in a quick hug.

It warmed her. Down to her toes.

“No, I'm fine.” She stepped casually out of the circle of his arm, because it was too tempting just to stay there. “Just thinking about what you said.”

“Look, don't start worrying.” He frowned. “My part of this deal is to take care of the business, and I will. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“You didn't. I want to understand.” She should have made more of an effort from the beginning. “After all, this is Marcy's project, too, thanks to her father.”

He nodded, his face lightening a little at the mention of the baby. “Too bad she's not as good at keeping the books as her daddy was. That's a talent that was left out of my makeup all together.”

“Don't you have a bookkeeper?” She should have interested herself enough in the business to know that, at least.

“Vera does some of it, but Davis actually kept most of the records on his computer. I've been strug
gling to keep up with it, but half the time I can't even find the right files.” One corner of his mouth quirked. “Give me a blueprint and I know what to do. A computer's something else again. As for a spreadsheet—forget it.”

The need might as well have been written in large letters over his head. Link needed—the company needed—something that she could very easily do. The bookkeeping he was talking about would be child's play to her. It might actually be fun.

If she offered to help, that would be one more thing bringing her close to Link. One more reason to be in his company, to be telling herself he didn't mean anything to her anymore, to know she was kidding herself.

The more she was around Link, the harder it would be to protect her heart.

Still, she couldn't escape the fact that she'd asked God to guide her in this situation. She'd always believed that if the Lord dropped a responsibility right in your lap, it was pretty safe to assume that burden was for you, whether you wanted it or not. She couldn't ignore this one.

“Why don't you let me take over the record-keeping Davis was doing?”

She couldn't mistake the relief that washed over his face. Then, almost immediately, he shook his head.

“No, that's not fair. You have all the responsibility of Marcy. I can't ask you to do this, too.”

“You didn't ask, I offered.” She hoped she sounded confident. “I'd be glad to keep my hand in with something I know how to do. I can work on it in the evening after Marcy goes to bed.”

“Are you sure?” He turned so that he was looking full in her face, the movement bringing him very close.

I'm sure I should be looking for ways to stay away from you, not get closer.
“Yes. I mean it.”

He let out his breath in a whoosh of relief. “I can't tell you how great that would be, Annie. I can work with you in the evenings on it. Maybe you can even show me how to open the spreadsheets.”

“I think I can manage that.” The question was, could she manage to do this and not get even more involved emotionally with Link?

That was a good question. Unfortunately, she thought she already knew the answer.

 

Link felt like a husband and father coming home to the family he loved. Alarms went off in his mind, and he braked so abruptly that the truck shimmied as it came to a stop in the driveway.

Unfortunately, being together every evening in the week since Annie had offered to help him with the company books had put too many thoughts in his mind that didn't belong there.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and he made no effort to get out of the truck. He'd better get
this straight in his mind. This wasn't real. The warm, cozy, welcoming home wasn't his—not for keeps.

Ironic, that he of all people should be put in the position of having what amounted to a counterfeit family. Maybe God was trying to tell him something.

Whatever the lesson might be, he could only assume he wasn't learning it very well. But one thing he'd better get right, and quickly. He couldn't let Annie and Marcy grow to depend on him, any more than he could depend on them. This situation was dangerous enough without that.

He slid out of the truck and walked quickly to the house, knowing how much he wanted to see them even while he was telling himself to be careful.

They were both in the family room, looking just like the cozy picture he'd been imagining. Marcy ran to him, carrying a block in each hand, and threw herself into his arms. The feel of her soft cheek against his nearly undid all his careful resolutions.