Heartwishes (6 page)

“
If
you leave,” Colin corrected as he pulled into the driveway of a very pretty house.

To hide her smile at his tone, Gemma leaned forward to get a look at the house. It did indeed look a bit like a Frank Lloyd Wright design, with its deep overhanging roof and built-in flower boxes. The trim around the windows and door was of rich wood that glowed with warmth.

Colin pushed a remote attached to his sun visor, and the garage door opened. There was nothing inside, not so much as a garden hose. As the big door rolled shut behind them, he reached to the back and got the food. “Want to see the house?”

“Love to,” she said as she got out and followed him.

There was a covered breezeway leading from the garage to the side door. It was made of wood of three colors, all of it sealed to preserve the natural shades.

Gemma ran her hand along the rail. “You say your cousin Luke did this? Or did he hire someone to do it?”

“He’s the woodworker.” Colin used his key to open the back door and they entered the kitchen. It was beautiful, with new cabinets painted pale yellow, and granite countertops of a deep gold. All the appliances were stainless steel.

The kitchen opened into a dining room that had more of the beautifully finished windows that looked out to the front.

“Wow!” Gemma said, and Colin smiled at her.

The living room was to the right, partially walled off from the kitchen-dining area. One whole side was a stone fireplace flanked by shelves for books and a big TV. There was a large Oriental rug on the floor, but it was the only thing in the room. In fact, there was no furniture anywhere.

“Mind sitting on the floor?” Colin asked.

“My favorite place.”

“But only if you have a dozen books open around you and a notebook in your hand. And how many colors of pens do you use?”

“Seven—which is one fewer than Kirk says he uses. I’ll have to ask him what number eight is.”

They spread the food out on the paper wrappers on the carpet and began to eat.

“This is delicious,” Gemma said.

“If Ellie makes it, you can bet it is.”

Gemma looked around the beautiful room. There were glass doors along the back and they opened into a courtyard that had a garden beyond.

She looked back at him and again thought how much she loved the look of him. In the last couple of years she’d spent so much time with athletes that she’d become attracted to larger men. Besides the boys that she’d tutored there’d been the coaches. One of the assistants
and she had dated for months. But she’d broken it off when his lack of interest about anything but sports got to her.

She could feel that indescribable “something” that made her think that Colin was also attracted to her. However, she was very aware that he’d maneuvered the conversation so Gemma had admitted she didn’t have a boyfriend, but Colin had said nothing about his own love life. If it hadn’t been for her adviser telling her all three sons were unmarried, she wouldn’t even know that. “How does your girlfriend like this house?”

“I told you that no one has seen it.”

Which was a perfect nonanswer, Gemma thought, and she was damned if she was going to work to find out more about his personal life. “I like the house very much,” she said at last. “You should be very happy here.”

Colin moved to lean back against the wall, and took his time before speaking, as though he were contemplating what to say. “In the last year and a half three of my friends . . . well, actually four, got married, and it’s made me think about my own future.” He looked at her and smiled warmly. “I’m sure that’s more than you wanted to know about me.”

She wanted to say that she’d like to hear a lot more, but it was too soon for that.

They were quiet for a while, then Gemma asked him about his brothers.

“Real pests,” he said, but there was so much love in his voice that it was almost embarrassing. He talked while they ate, telling her about his family, and she saw how close they were to one another.

He told her of his brothers Lanny and Pere, who worked in the family car business. He talked of how the development of Shamus’s artistic abilities was of major concern to their family as they wanted the best possible art schooling for him. “Our mother interviews universities
as though she’s a general planning a battle. So far, none of them are good enough for her precious baby.”

Lastly, he spoke of his sister, Ariel, who would soon be returning to Edilean to work as a doctor. Colin’s chest seemed to swell in pride.

“I envy you,” she said when he finished.

“What about your family?”

“I have a mother and a sister and they’re exactly alike. They laugh over the same things, call each other every day. They’re a pair.”

“How do you fit in with them?”

“I don’t,” she said. “My father and I were best buddies, and after he died when I was twelve, I . . .” She shrugged. “Unhappy memories. The good news is that my sister married a rich man—he has his own plumbing company—and she sends me truly lovely gifts. All I have to do to repay her is babysit for whole weeks at a time.”

Colin laughed. “So what kind of gifts does she send you?”

“A Kindle, some sports equipment, top-of-the-line laptop, and my BlackBerry. She said if I got this job she’d send me an iPad.”

“It sounds like she cares about you,” Colin said.

“It’s mutual, but we aren’t chummy. She has two children and wants a third. She and Mom are worried that I’ll never get married.”

“Whatever you do, don’t let her talk to
my
mother. My poor sister got so tired of my mother’s constant talk of having babies that last year Ariel swore she’d have her tubes tied.”

“A drastic threat.”

“My sister is the epitome of a ‘drama queen.’”

“So who is your ‘favorite little man’ and isn’t Merlin’s Farm the place where those paintings were found last year?”

Colin’s quick laugh nearly made him choke on his sandwich. “You really
listen,
don’t you?”

“I read about the farm on the town Web site, and I like to find out things. Is it?”

“Yes,” he said. “As you seem to know already, Merlin’s Farm—”

“Built in 1674, wasn’t it?”

Colin shook his head at her in wonder. “I have a feeling you could tell me who the English king was then and what was going on in the world.”

She could, but she wasn’t interested in what she already knew. “The paintings caused a stir in the historical world, so of course I heard about them. They belong to the owner of Merlin’s Farm . . . I don’t remember her name.”

“Sara Shaw, my cousin. She married the detective who found the paintings. They were hidden away in a secret room in the old house. You’ll have to see it. The way the room was built behind the fireplace was really ingenious.”

Gemma’s eyes lit up, but she said nothing, just willing him to tell her more.

“Anyway,” Colin continued, “Mike and Sara still live in Fort Lauderdale. They’ll stay there until his retirement in a couple of years, then they’ll move back here permanently.”

“The paintings . . . ?” she prompted.

“Oh yeah. They were done in the 1700s by an ancestor of ours—”

“Charles Albert Yates,” Gemma said.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Colin said. “Joce—the woman who owns Edilean Manor—thinks they were painted by a woman. She—”

“Wow!” Gemma said, her eyes wide. “A
woman
went down the San Juan River in 1799 and made paintings of the flora and fauna? What an extraordinary find!”

Colin laughed, but he was impressed with her memory and her knowledge. “You and Joce and Sara
have
to get to know one another.”
He finished his sandwich while looking at her, and he could see that she was thinking about the paintings and how a woman may have made them. He wasn’t going to say so but he was
very
pleased that she’d not asked about the value of the paintings. The discovery of them had made international news and been reported by the BBC and in Paris. For a while the town had been inundated with tourists asking questions. With just a few exceptions, the
only
thing people had asked about was the money. How much were the paintings worth? Colin had grown so tired of the questions that he’d mumble, “Millions,” then leave and let his deputy, Roy, handle them.

But Gemma didn’t seem in the least interested in the financial side of the find—and he liked that very much.

She finished her sandwich. “And Sara is Ellie’s daughter? And your ‘favorite little man’ who helped her?”

“You’re going to be great at the research!” Colin said. “Yes, Sara is Ellie’s daughter, and Mr. Lang is the caretaker of Merlin’s Farm. He’s in his mid-eighties now and we look out for him. When Mike and Sara are here, he moves into a house they remodeled for him.” Colin wasn’t going to go into telling Gemma about Mr. Lang’s endless complaints about the tourists and having to live outside the old house, which he thought of as his.

Gemma wanted to ask what Ellie had meant about “club ladies” being after the old man, but she thought she’d asked enough questions.

She stood up. “Mind if I wander around the rest of the house and have a look?”

“Be my guest.” He was very pleased that she liked the place so much.

She went down the hall and peeked into the three bedrooms and two baths. The master suite opened into the garden. She unlocked the door and stepped outside. She didn’t know much about plants,
but she’d put money on it that the trees weren’t the usual ones you could purchase at the local shop. No, this place looked like a miniature botanical garden, like a place a person would pay to see.

As Gemma thought of all she’d seen of the town, of this man, his family and now of his house, she couldn’t help a feeling of longing. Since her father had died, she hadn’t felt she was truly at home anywhere. To belong somewhere and to someone was Gemma’s deepest desire.

What would it be like to grow up in a town where people knew your name? she wondered. More than that, knew you as a person? In the grocery those people had known Colin well enough to drop a baby into his arms. Even the children knew that if Colin was handed a broken toy he would fix it. She heard his footsteps in the hallway.

“Are you okay?” he asked from behind her. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

He had noticed the sad look in her eyes, and she quickly changed it. “No. Just the opposite. I was admiring the view. Your garden looks larger than the usual backyard.”

“It’s a couple of acres.”

“Your cousin Luke couldn’t have done the garden too?”

“Yes he did. And he’s also Luke Adams.”

Gemma’s face looked blank.

“Luke Adams? Writes novels?” Colin asked.

“Sorry. I never read fiction. No time.”

He grinned. “That makes for a change. Usually when Luke’s pen name is mentioned, people nearly swoon.”

“Swoon, do they?” she asked, smiling. “I think you’ve been reading the documents your mother bought.”

“Actually, I did try to look at some of them. But then my phone would ring and I’d have to leave. Or sometimes I fell asleep. It’s difficult for me to imagine someone wanting a job like the one you
want. On the days I have to stay in the office, I get antsy.” He pulled his buzzing cell phone out of his pocket and looked at it. “It’s a text from Mom and she says Jean is there. I think we better go.”

“Certainly!” Gemma said. “I can’t afford to offend your mother again.”

“I don’t think you ever have.”

“I wish I were as sure.” When she got to the kitchen door, she turned to look at him. “I’ve had a lovely time today. I enjoyed meeting the people and especially seeing your house. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Want to drive back?”

“About as much as I want to jump onto the top of a speeding train.”

“Come on, then,” he said, “let’s go and see if Kirk has made off with my mother’s jewelry.”

“Or if Isla has eloped with your brother.”

“Shamus would never allow that.”

Laughing, they left the house together.

3

G
EMMA STRETCHED OUT
on the bed in Colin’s childhood room and looked around her. It was still the habitat of a teenage boy, but instead of posters of football players or other athletes, he’d hung pictures of men Gemma didn’t recognize. But she had an idea they were law enforcement agents, real ones, not actors who played them on TV. Considering what she was seeing, she wondered why he hadn’t become an FBI agent or joined the CIA. But then, she’d already seen the answer. He loved the little town of Edilean and the people in it.

After they’d left his newly purchased house, he’d driven them straight back to his family’s home. Hours earlier, when Gemma arrived, Mrs. Frazier had greeted her at the front door and immediately led her back to the guesthouse and shown her the documents. Gemma hadn’t been given time to get her suitcase out of the car, so she had no idea where she was staying in the big Frazier house.

Colin told her that he’d asked his mother to put her in his old room. “There’s an outside staircase, so you can come and go as you please,” he said. “And it’s on the third floor, so you’ll have privacy.”

“Your own private stairs? You sound like you were a very busy young man,” she said, teasing.

He didn’t seem to see her words as a joke. “I was called out so often in the middle of the night that when I was in the tenth grade, my father had the stairs put up so I wouldn’t wake the family.”

She didn’t understand what he meant. “You weren’t acting as sheriff when you were in high school, were you?”

“No, but I tend to volunteer for things. And, besides, I’ve always been . . .” He hesitated.

“As big as a bulldozer?”

“More or less,” he said, grinning. “When I was fourteen, I used to go out with the firefighters and hold the hose.”

“Isn’t that illegal for someone that young?”

“Yeah, but after I slipped out a window six times and ran into a burning building three times, everyone gave up trying to make me stay home. I think they gave me the hose to hold just to anchor me in place.”

“I guess that makes sense. So your family put you on the top floor and built a staircase just for you?”