The Saturday morning sunrise cast a pink glow on the ivy-covered brickwork of Chalmers House. Rather than entering Finders Keepers through the door that connected her house to the shop, Elizabeth had chosen to walk the long way around through the yard. She always loved the early hour and the silent peace that accompanied it. This morning, more than any other, she felt the need for divine composure.
Leaning against the shop’s wall, she drank in the intricate, white fretwork that graced the mansion’s deep front porch. The arched windows with their stained-glass frames glittered like jewels. The iron fretwork of the widow’s walk formed a delicate black embroidery on the roofline. The old house was a gem, a masterpiece of Victorian architecture. Elizabeth tried to imagine it gone.
Construction machinery. The pink bricks crumbled to dust. The massive oak staircase smashed and splintered. The sparkling glass windows shattered. The wooden gingerbread tangled on the ground like a heap of fallen lace. Grace’s beloved lilacs and forsythias uprooted. The spicy pink dianthus ground under the iron tread of a bulldozer.
And then what? A new building would rise with sharp, modern angles and mirrored windows. The blacktopped parking lot in front of it would be marked with even yellow lines. Boxwoods and yews would be planted along the foundation—easy maintenance and no flowers to litter the tidy lot. A sign would be erected near the street, something bold, graphic, easy to read from a distance.
Elizabeth rubbed her hands over her arms, chilled in the early morning breeze. How could she allow this to happen? How could such destruction be the will of God? And why— in the name of all that was right and sensible—couldn’t she get Zachary Chalmers out of her mind?
Closing her eyes to block out the mansion, Elizabeth lifted up a prayer for understanding and peace. Zachary’s insight into her life had been uncomfortably close to the truth. She
was
lonely. She
did
long for a family of her own, a normal family with two parents and bunches of children. And she was uncomfortable with change. In fact, she had structured her whole world around the ultimate goal of stability.
But Zachary had come barging in with his new ideas, his charming grin, and his persistent pursuit. The man was competent, wealthy, and handsome enough to attract any woman he chose. So why had he chosen Elizabeth?
If only he would prove to be a bloodsucking bleach! Instead, he knelt to chat with Nick as though the child’s conversation genuinely interested him. He stopped by Boompah’s house to check on the sick old man, and then he took over running the Corner Market during his vacation. He apologized, drank tea, wore blue jeans to work, toted groceries to Mrs. McCann’s house, and generally proved himself totally wonderful in every way.
And those kisses. Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand.
Oh, God, please help me to remember Grace and her beautiful mansion this morning when Zachary comes to pick up his cupboard. Please don’t let me think about his green eyes or his thick hair or—
“There you are!” The man himself rounded the corner of the store. “I’ve been waiting out front for you. I was afraid you’d forgotten me.”
Not a chance.
Elizabeth’s heart constricted as Zachary sauntered toward her, mesmerizing in a blue denim shirt and jeans, his dark hair damp from his morning shower, his eyes locked on her face. No man had the right to look that good.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked. “I don’t mean to disturb you.”
You do disturb me!
she wanted to shout.
You’ve interrupted my whole life. You’ve knocked everything topsy-turvy and left me reeling with confusion and uncertainty and feelings I never knew I had! Go away and leave me alone. Let me have my old existence back.
“You’re looking well this morning, Elizabeth.” He leaned one shoulder against the brick wall and hooked his hands in his pockets. “I hope I didn’t get you out of bed too early.”
“No,” she managed. “I’m usually up. Nick loves cartoons.”
He gave a laugh that curled into her chest and wrapped around her heart. “Me, too. I used to think Saturday mornings were right next to heaven. Popeye, Mighty Mouse, Donald Duck—they were my pals.”
“Nick carries around a collection of books with cartoon animals on them. He props them up near him so they can be a part of whatever he’s doing. I think it’s his way of having secret friends.”
“Bobo.” With a slightly embarrassed grin, he raked a hand through his hair. “Bobo was this little yellow chicken some lady gave me when I was about five years old. He was real soft, and when you tilted him, he kind of made this
eep eep
sound. I took him everywhere.”
“Do you still have him?”
His face sobered. “Nah. Kid’s stuff, you know.”
“What happened to Bobo, Zachary? Did you lose him?”
Straightening away from the wall, he shrugged. “Hey, I need to open up the market in a few minutes.”
Elizabeth frowned. As he turned to go, she touched his shoulder. “Zachary?”
When he swung around, she was struck by the sadness in his eyes. “It was just a dumb stuffed animal.”
“Where is Bobo?” Suddenly it seemed the most important question in the world.
He looked away, his focus on the mansion. “When I was thirteen, things got … they got a little rough around my house. Financially and in other ways. I moved out. The toy didn’t make the transition.”
“You moved out of your house when you were thirteen years old?”
“Foster care. The state took over my upbringing. Hey, it happens.”
“Oh, Zachary.” She ached to throw her arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”
“No big deal. You learn to go with the flow. I carved my own path through those years. In a way, it was good for me. I made plans, decided who I wanted to be, what my goals were, and then I set out to make them happen.”
“But your parents. Didn’t they—”
“No, they didn’t. Whatever you were going to ask, the answer is no. They didn’t need me, didn’t miss me, didn’t anything. I was the oldest kid, and I was the one most able to fend for himself. It’s OK, Elizabeth. I’ve put all that behind me.”
He turned again and headed for the front of the shop. Elizabeth followed, her thoughts reeling. Zachary’s words certainly explained a lot of things about him. His drive to succeed. His affinity for Nick. His lack of tenderness toward things that might evoke the past. Of course he didn’t care about his Aunt Grace. Maybe if she’d stepped in with some money when he was a child, he wouldn’t have been forced out of his family. Now, her estate probably seemed like too little too late.
“Hey, don’t dwell on what I told you,” he said, touching her arm and drawing her from her reverie. “A lot of people go through rough times. It was just a toy chicken, anyhow.”
She fished her key out of her pocket and opened the door. “Bobo wasn’t just a toy,” she said softly. “He was your childhood.”
Leaving him, she began the familiar ritual of turning on the lamps. As she approached the white cabinet, she realized Zachary was standing beside it, staring at her. She turned the hand-carved wooden latch that opened the matched pair of glass doors. Taking a chamois, she carefully dusted the shelves and gave the cabinet’s work surface a polish. She knew Zachary was renting an apartment on the outskirts of town, and she wondered where he planned to display the piece.
“There you go,” she said. “Plenty of room for your teacup.”
He took her hand and turned her to face him. “Elizabeth, how can I make peace with you about the mansion?”
Her heart began to hammer, and she tried to concentrate on his words. She couldn’t think about him as a man. She couldn’t think about that kiss. He was her adversary, and he was offering to negotiate a truce. God had presented an answer to her prayers, and now she had to focus on giving the right response.
“It’s like a barrier between us,” he went on, “and I’d like to resolve it. The fact is, I’d like to see more of you, Elizabeth. Maybe take you to dinner sometime. Go to a movie.”
“I don’t really have time for socializing—”
“Dating.”
“No, I can’t. I’m a mother. Nick needs me.”
“Maybe I need you.”
“You don’t need me. You’ve got your whole life out there, remember? All your plans and goals. Besides, I’m really set in my ways. The proverbial old maid, you know.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. I think if I asked you out to dinner, you’d say yes.”
“Well, I …” She looked down at her feet.
Dear God, please help me out here! I’m drowning in this man’s green eyes.
“So about the house next door,” he said. “Are you going to be able to let me build my office there?” Suddenly uncomfortable holding Zachary’s hand, Elizabeth pulled free.
“Let me buy the mansion from you, Zachary,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to expand. I’d like to put in a small tea shop and carry some new gift items and specialty books. I could expand my inventory and advertise in St. Louis and Kansas City. I inherited some money from my grandmother when she passed away. It’s not much, but I can probably manage the down payment. You could use what you make off the mansion to buy a lot and build your dream office.”
“But I want the lot next door.”
“Why?”
“Location. It’s on the town square. It’s flat land. It’s prime real estate.” He let out a breath. “OK, the truth? No one ever gave me anything before, Elizabeth. Other than that toy chicken. My clothes and toys were thrift-shop specials or hand-me-downs. The government paid my foster parents to feed and board me. I worked my way through college. I took out bank loans to start my business. Everything I’ve ever had as an adult, I’ve had to work for. But when my aunt died, that little square of land became mine—not because I’d earned it. Because of who I am. It’s my little patch of the world, and I’m going to build my dreams on it.”
“But Grace didn’t leave you just a piece of land. She left you her home.”
“I don’t want a home. I don’t need a home. Please try to see that, Elizabeth.”
She closed the cabinet’s glass doors and turned the latch into place. “You
do
need a home,” she said. “You, more than anyone else, need a home. Maybe Grace heard what happened to you when you were a boy. Maybe that’s why she left you the mansion. Remember what she wrote in the note I found in her Bible?”
To her surprise, he dug his wallet from his pocket and slipped out the folded letter. “‘I think of my home,’” he read, “‘and the many years I have lived within these walls. It is only an earthly treasure, but I do hope it will live on to bless others as it has blessed me. I pray that Zachary …’” He lifted his head. “Why would she pray for me?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Nick says it’s because she loved you.”
“She didn’t even know me.”
“Are you sure? She was your father’s sister. Maybe he never bothered to speak her name, but clearly she knew about you. She cared about you, too. She wanted you to have her most precious treasure.”
“If she’d known anything about me, she’d have understood that I wouldn’t want a tumbledown old mansion on my hands. It’s a money drain. An eyesore. Even a danger zone. Elizabeth, I intend to establish my future on that lot next door. Does that goal have to come between you and me?”
The warmth in his eyes touched her to the core. What was it in this man that stirred her heart so? They had nothing in common. Nothing but lonely childhoods, the loss of their parents, the battle for survival, a stubbornness that refused to bend, an affection for a small town and its inhabitants, tenderness for a little green-eyed boy …
“Elizabeth, you smell like flowers,” he said, stepping closer and cupping her shoulder in his warm hand. “I try not to think about you, but that scent—”
“Gardenias and roses.”
“It stays with me …”
“Lily of the valley, vanilla …”
“And then I remember how it felt to kiss you.” His gaze searched hers. “I’ve never been a patient man.”
“But it wouldn’t be—”
“Yes, it would. It would be good between us, Elizabeth. You and me.”
She drank down a ragged breath. “Zachary, I never intended to let anyone into my life. I’ve been happy. I don’t want to … to change.”
He gathered her closer. “I think you do,” he murmured against her ear. “I think you want a lot of things. You’re just scared.”
“Shouldn’t I be?” She put her hands on his arms. “Zachary, please don’t push me. You’re right, OK? I’m lonely and a little tired of managing everything on my own. I wouldn’t mind going out to dinner with you. But where would that lead? I’m not willing to have a casually intimate relationship, and I don’t want commitment.”
“Relationship. Commitment. What about fun? Wouldn’t you like to have a little fun once in a while?”
“Kissing you is not fun.” She glanced aside. “It’s dangerous.”
She could feel the chuckle rise from deep in his chest. “You got that right.”
“I never do anything lightly, Zachary.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe.” She moved away from him. “That letter from your Aunt Grace was in her Bible. This Bible.” She picked up the heavy leather-bound book that had taken a permanent place on her glass-topped counter. “This is my guidebook. It’s pretty serious business, you might recall if you’ve ever read it.”
“I’ve read it. I’m a Christian, too, Elizabeth. I go to church once in a while. Hey, I even designed a church building in downtown Jefferson City.” He walked toward her. “It’s not like I’ve asked you to sin or anything. I said I’d like to take you to dinner. I’d like to kiss you again. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“What’s in your heart? Where’s your personal commitment? Who’s guiding your life? In the end, that’s a whole lot more important to me than having fun and eating out and kissing.”
“Fine. We won’t go out.” He searched the room. “You got a dolly so I can move this cabinet out of here?”
“Yoo-hoo!” Pearlene Fox pushed open the front door with a jingle of brass bells. “I thought I’d find you in here, Mr. Chalmers. I was out sweeping my sidewalk, and I spotted Ruby McCann at the Corner Market, banging on the door. You know how she is about her groceries. Likes ’em fresh. And I thought I’d seen you over here in front of Liz’s place this morning early. Phil’s been so busy getting ready for the city council meeting next week he’s hardly taken his nose out of his notes, but he said it was you, all right. I didn’t want to interrupt anything, but if Ruby doesn’t get her morning milk, she’s likely to have a hissy fit.”