Gift from the Heart

Nicole sat on the other side of Adam, so she couldn’t see the young girl very well. But she caught enough glimpses to know that Nicole was dressed in tight black hip-hugger jeans. Her top seemed to be a bit more discreet than the one she’d worn yesterday, but it was not attire Clare would have deemed appropriate for church.

Adam, on the other hand, was well dressed. His broad shoulders filled out his dark suit, and a gold tie lay against his starched white shirt. He’d looked great yesterday in jeans, and was equally handsome in today’s more impressive formal attire, which gave him a distinguished air.

Clare did her best to sing the hymns and listen to the sermon, but the elderly minister was a bit dry, and she found her attention—and her gaze—frequently wandering over to the doctor and his daughter…until she found Adam staring back. For a moment they’d both seemed startled, then Clare quickly looked away as hot color stole on to her cheeks. Served her right, she thought in chagrin. She was in the house of God. That’s where her thoughts should be, too. For the rest of the service she made a concerted effort to be more focused.

As the last hymn ended, however, her thoughts returned to Adam and Nicole. She was so preoccupied formulating a greeting in her head that it took her a moment to realize the woman next to her had spoken.

“I’m sorry. Were you speaking to me?”

The older woman smiled at her. “I’m the one who should apologize. You must have been deep in prayer. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Prayer had been the furthest thing from her mind, Clare thought with a pang of guilt. “No reason to apologize. I must admit that I was thinking about something I need to do after the service. But I should have been praying.”

The woman chuckled. She had short, stylish gray hair that established her senior status, but her blue eyes twinkled with the enthusiasm of a youngster. “That’s something we’re all guilty of on occasion, I suspect.” She held out her hand. “I’m Adele Malone.”

Clare returned the woman’s firm handshake. “Clare Randall.”

“You’re new in town.”

“A visitor, actually. I’m here on…business.”

“Well, I’m glad you joined us this morning. Why, Nicole…”

Clare turned. Adam and Nicole had moved out of their pew, and stood only a few steps away.

“Your hair looks lovely today!” Adele said.

For the first time Clare noticed that Nicole’s hair was done in a neat French braid.

“Thank you. It was Clare’s idea.”

“We had to find a salon that would take Nicole yesterday afternoon without an appointment. But it was worth the effort. The style suits her.” Adam’s remark was directed at Clare, and she could read the gratitude in his eyes.

Adele looked with interest at Clare, then at Adam. “You two know each other?”

“We just met yesterday. On a business matter,” Adam replied.

“How nice. Well, I was just going to invite our visitor to stay and have coffee in the church hall. I hope you can join us, too.”

“Not today, I’m afraid. Nicole has quite a bit of homework, and I have to return a couple of pages that I received during the service.”

Was there regret in his voice? Or was it just her imagination, Clare wondered.

“Another time, then. I do hope you’ll stay, my dear,” Adele said, turning back to Clare.

Clare almost refused. But she really didn’t have anything else to do today. And if Adele knew Adam, perhaps the woman could offer a few more insights about the good doctor that would help Clare persuade him. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

“Good to see you, Adele,” Adam said. Then he turned to Clare. “I’ll be in touch.”

She nodded, and both she and Adele watched as Adam and Nicole made their way out.

“Such a nice man. And a wonderful doctor,” Adele said. “Hope Creek was lucky to get him when Doc Evans retired last year. And he certainly tries hard with Nicole. But it’s such a challenge raising children these days. Especially alone.” She glanced down at the ring on Clare’s left hand. “Do you have children, my dear?”

Clare’s throat tightened. Maybe someday that question would be easier to answer. But not yet. It still hurt as much as it had two years before. “No. I’m a widow.”

The older woman reached over and spoke softly as she touched Clare’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t suppose that’s something one ever gets over. I know I’d be completely lost without my Ralph. He’s home today with a cold, and it just didn’t feel quite right sitting in church without him. But you have your faith to sustain you. That’s such a great blessing in times of trial.” She tucked her arm through Clare’s. “Now come along and let’s get some coffee and a doughnut. Adam’s forever after me to lose twenty pounds, but honestly, I don’t think one doughnut on Sunday is going to hurt, do you?”

The woman chatted amiably as they made their way to the church hall, where she took pains to introduce Clare to several members of the congregation. It became clear that Adele was quite prominent in the town, obviously active in both church and civic pursuits. When they finally found themselves alone for a moment, Clare glanced at her watch and set down her cup of tea.

“I think I’ve taken up far too much of your time,” she apologized.

“Not at all. I enjoy meeting new people. Will you be in town long?”

“At least for a few days.”

“Do you have any friends or family nearby?”

“No.”

“So what are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

Clare hadn’t really thought much about the holiday, even though it was only four days away. A.J. had just arrived in St. Louis, so she wasn’t in a position to leave the bookstore. And the last she’d heard, Morgan intended to work most of the holiday weekend. So Clare had planned to just grab a bite somewhere by herself. Which was a far cry from how she preferred to celebrate holidays, she thought wistfully. Special days should be festive occasions filled with fun and family. But both of those things were now absent from her life. Treating Thanksgiving like any other day seemed the best way to cope without falling apart.

“I really don’t have any plans,” she told the older woman.

“Then you must join us for dinner.”

Clare stared at her, surprised by the impromptu invitation. “But…I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family celebration.”

Adele waved her concern aside. “You won’t be. My husband and I don’t have children, or any close family. So we’ve always invited others to join us for Thanksgiving. The associate pastor and his wife will be there. And Adam and Nicole are coming, too. Adam’s only brother lives in Charlotte, and they go to his wife’s house for Thanksgiving. So Adam and Nicole will be on their own for the holiday. There will be a few others, as well. You’d be more than welcome.”

Clare considered the invitation. It was certainly preferable to eating at the Bluebird, charming as it was. Besides, the café might not even be open on that day. And it would give her a chance to press her case with Adam. But more than anything, she was touched by the older woman’s generosity in opening her home to a stranger on a holiday. Her invitation was truly Christian charity in action.

“Thank you,” Clare said with a smile. “I’d love to come. May I bring something?”

“Just yourself.” Adele opened her handbag and withdrew a small notepad and pen. “I’ll jot down my address and phone number. We usually begin to gather about four.”

Clare took the slip of paper a moment later and tucked it in her purse. “Thank you, Mrs. Malone.”

“Adele, my dear. We aren’t that formal in Hope Creek. And it’s my pleasure. No one should spend the holiday alone. Or lonely.”

As Clare said her goodbyes, she reflected on Adele’s parting words. The woman was right, of course. And she’d apparently taken care of the “alone” part for a number of Hope Creek residents. But the loneliness was harder to deal with. Because it went deeper. And wasn’t always as visible.

Adam and Nicole came to mind. They lived in the same house. They shared meals. They went to church together. So they weren’t alone. Yet Clare knew they were lonely. And sometimes that kind of loneliness was worse than being physically alone. There was something especially tragic about two people living in close proximity who were unable to connect.

Her work would be cut out for her with Nicole, Clare reflected. The young girl desperately needed guidance. But in her mind, there was a whole lot more to this nanny job than simply helping Nicole get her act together.

Bottom line, Adam and Nicole needed to establish a bond. And they needed an intermediary, a catalyst—maybe even a referee—to help them do that.

It would be a challenging role, Clare knew. But she wanted to play it. Because in the short time they’d spent together, she’d felt their pain. And she wanted to help them salvage their relationship before it was too late.

For Nicole’s sake, of course.

But also for Nicole’s father.

Chapter Three

“Thanks for coming by on such short notice.”

Clare nodded. She hadn’t expected to hear back from Adam so soon, but when she’d returned to the Evergreen after church and a quick breakfast she’d found a message waiting, asking her to stop by his house at four o’clock that afternoon. She’d called back, confirming the appointment.

“Would you mind if we talked in the kitchen?” Adam asked. “I had to make an emergency run to the grocery store and I just got back. I need to put a few things away.”

“Of course.”

Clare followed him down a hallway toward the back of the house. At least the sunny kitchen had a little more personality than the living room. It was painted a pale blue, and a border of trailing morning glory vines had been stenciled along the top of the walls. A weathered oak table and four chairs stood beside a bay window that afforded a lovely view of the pine woods on the hillside behind the house.

“Have a seat and I’ll be with you in just a minute,” Adam said.

She chose a chair that gave her a view of the restful scene out the window. But instead Clare turned her attention to Adam, watching as he rapidly took items out of the plastic grocery bags—eggs, canned soup, bread, lunch meat, crackers, milk, cereal, microwave dinners. She caught a glimpse of his nearly empty refrigerator when he opened the door to put the milk inside.

“Sorry about this,” he apologized. “I try not to shop on Sunday, but sometimes the week just gets away from me. Then it becomes an emergency. I thought I’d have everything put away before you got here, but it always takes me longer at the grocery store than I expect.”

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t have any plans today, anyway.”

He glanced at the counter. “I think that takes care of all the perishables. Can I offer you something to drink?”

When she declined, he filled a coffee cup and joined her at the table. “I know I said I’d call you tomorrow, but frankly, I didn’t see any reason to wait. Seth Mitchell has confirmed your story. You seem sincere. I trust Jo’s judgment, and I desperately need help with Nicole.” And you need Jo’s legacy. He didn’t voice that reason. But it had been a definite factor in his decision.

Coils of tension deep in the pit of Clare’s stomach began to unwind. “Then you’re willing to take me on as nanny?”

He took a sip of his coffee and looked at her steadily. “To be honest, I’m still not entirely comfortable with this. It doesn’t seem right for me to accept your services at no cost.”

“That was the stipulation in Aunt Jo’s will. So there’s no choice. And I’m fine with it.”

Adam put his mug on the table and wrapped his long, lean fingers around it. “I talked to Nicole about this. Well, I tried to, anyway,” he amended. “I didn’t get much more than a few grunts, but at least she didn’t throw a fit. So I took that as a good sign. I don’t think she’ll fight you the way she has every other sitter I hired. But I could be wrong. It could be miserable. For everyone. So what I’d like to propose is that we try this for a month. If everything works out, we can commit to the remaining five months. But this will give us both a chance to test the waters and back out if things don’t go well. How does that sound?”

Clare had no intention of backing out. She was determined to make this work. So she had no qualms agreeing to Adam’s terms. “It seems like a sensible plan.”

“Good. As for your duties, I’m open to suggestions since I’ve never had a nanny before. I thought you could just make sure Nicole gets ready for school on time so she doesn’t miss the bus, and be here when she gets home. During the school day your time would be your own. Nicole could also use some help with her schoolwork. Even though her standardized test scores are always high, her grades have been marginal at best since she came to live with me. With your teaching background, I’d appreciate any help you could provide. Most of your weekends should be free, other than Saturday mornings if I have patients in the hospital and need to do rounds. Ellen James, our housekeeper, comes on Thursdays. She has a key and doesn’t need any supervision. Mostly I just need you to keep an eye on Nicole. Does that sound reasonable?”

“Very. And I’ll be happy to do some tutoring.”

“That would be great. So when can you start?”

“As soon as I find a place to live and get settled in. I hope within a few days.”

Suddenly an idea began to take shape in Adam’s mind. Considering Clare’s current accommodations at the Evergreen Motel, her finances probably wouldn’t allow her to upgrade very much when it came to a more permanent place to live. And he had a small, furnished apartment above his garage. Maybe he couldn’t pay her, but there was nothing in Jo’s will that would prevent her from accepting housing.

“As a matter of fact, I may be able to help,” he said. “There’s a furnished apartment above my garage that I always planned to fix up and rent out, but I’ve never gotten around to it. You’re welcome to live there. It’s the least I can do, considering you’re providing your services free of charge.”

Clare looked at him in surprise. “Well, that would certainly be convenient.” And easy on her tight budget, she silently added.

“Would you like to take a look?”

“Sure.”

After retrieving the key from his office, Adam led the way out the back door and down a cobblestone path toward the garage. When they reached the door, his first couple of attempts to pull it open failed. Finally, after he exerted a bit more force, the door swung out.

“I’ve only been up here a couple of times since I bought the place,” he apologized. “The door probably needs to be sanded.”

He preceded her up a narrow set of stairs to a small landing where he inserted the key in another door. This one opened easily, and since there wasn’t room on the landing for both of them, he stepped inside first. He switched on the harsh overhead light—and immediately regretted his offer.

He’d known the apartment wasn’t in great shape, but it was even worse than he remembered. The walls were painted a dingy, muddy beige. The green shag carpeting had seen better days. The garishly upholstered sofa sagged in the middle, and the shade on the lamp beside it was ripped. Even from the front door, he could see that the countertop in the tiny galley kitchen was badly chipped at the edges. A small wooden table and chairs in the tiny eating area were nicked and worn. And he didn’t even want to look at the bathroom or bedroom. As near as he could recall, the furnishings in the bedroom included a lumpy bed and a nondescript dresser with a cracked mirror. There was no way he could offer this space to anyone in its present condition. Especially to Clare, with her obvious elegance and breeding.

“Adam?”

He knew he was blocking the door, but he didn’t budge. “Listen, this wasn’t such a good idea after all. I forgot that this place was in such bad shape.”

“Can I at least look around?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure you want to. This apartment makes the Evergreen Motel look good.”

He heard her laugh—a musical sound that he found extraordinarily appealing.

“That bad, huh?”

At least she had a sense of humor. And she was certainly going to need it, considering what she was walking into, literally and figuratively, with him and Nicole. “Let’s just say that I think a four-legged creature would be more at home here than a two-legged one.”

“Okay, now I have to see it.”

“Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You won’t quit before you even start.”

She laughed again. “There’s no chance of that.”

Hands planted on his hips, Adam surveyed the room once more, then shook his head and moved aside. “Okay. But trust me, you won’t hurt my feelings if you take one look and run right back down the stairs.”

Clare stepped into the apartment, walked slowly to the middle of the room, then pivoted, making every effort to keep her face impassive. Okay, so it was bad. But it was free. And she was pretty handy with a hammer and a paint brush. She completed her perusal of the living room and kitchen area, then peeked into the bathroom. At least it was serviceable. The bedroom, however, didn’t fare as well. She would definitely take the lumpy mattress at the Evergreen over this one, which seemed to have a crater in the middle. She returned to the kitchen, opened a few cabinets, checked out the small refrigerator, silent all the while.

Adam watched Clare as she went from room to room, admiring her natural grace even as he berated himself for showing her the apartment. In her slim, black wool skirt and elegant blue silk blouse she looked completely out of place in the run-down apartment. He couldn’t possibly let her live here.

“Look, this was a bad idea and I’m sorry for even suggesting it,” he apologized as the silence lengthened.

“Actually, this isn’t so bad,” she said gamely.

He looked at her incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No. I’m serious. Mostly what it needs is a cosmetic makeover. I assume the appliances and heat work?”

“Last time I checked.”

She shrugged. “Why don’t you let me tackle it? I think I can make this livable.”

He raked his fingers through his hair as he skeptically eyed the room again. “I’m not sure it’s even salvageable, let alone livable.”

“At least let me try.”

When he looked into her eyes, he saw determination—and spirit. He suspected she was prepared to argue the case if he withdrew his offer. She must really be strapped for cash if she was willing to take this on, he realized. He thought about just offering to pay for housing somewhere rather than let her deal with this mess, but he knew she’d refuse to take his money. It seemed he’d been backed into a corner. “All right. And I’ll send Ellen over to help with the cleaning. But if things don’t come together, we’ll work something else out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll order a new mattress, too. The one in the bedroom seems pretty pathetic.”

She looked relieved. “That would be great. Thanks.”

“Well, do whatever you need to do. Just save the bills and I’ll take care of them. I assume you’ll be judicious.” He tacked on that last admonition out of habit. He’d always used it with his wife, though it had never worked. That was one of the reasons he hadn’t been able to save much money during their marriage. But he was immediately sorry he’d said it to Clare. Luckily, she didn’t seem to take offense.

“Of course. I’ll get started first thing tomorrow. If all goes well, I should be able to take on my duties as Nicole’s nanny in a week. If that’s okay.”

“Absolutely. I’ll have the mattress delivered and the door sanded. Let me know if I can do anything else to help in the meantime.”

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten used to handling things on my own.”

After flipping off the light, Adam followed Clare down the steps. Her head was bent as she navigated the narrow stairs, exposing the delicate nape of her neck below her upswept hair. It made her seem vulnerable. And fragile. And it awakened a protective instinct in him. He recalled experiencing a similar feeling about Elaine early in their marriage. But it had been long absent from his life. Nor did it make any sense now, especially in relation to a virtual stranger who, he suspected, would not appreciate being thought of as either delicate or fragile.

For so many years, the only woman in Adam’s life had been Nicole. Worrying about her and their rocky relationship had consumed his thoughts and energies when he was away from work. He’d rarely given any other female more than a passing glance, avoiding well-meant setups by friends and keeping all women at arm’s length.

Now Clare would literally be living in his backyard. But as she’d noted moments before, it was a business arrangement, nothing more. And he would do well to remember that. Because even if he was inclined to consider her in a more personal light, that would be a tragic mistake. It was a mistake he’d made once before, with Elaine. And it was one he didn’t intend to repeat. It wouldn’t be fair to any woman.

Because he just wasn’t husband material.

Adam glanced up at Clare’s apartment as he hit the electric garage-door opener. As usual, the lights were on. She’d surprised him by moving in right away, even though he’d considered the place unlivable. And no matter what time he looked toward the garage—early in the morning as he grabbed a cup of coffee before leaving for the hospital, or late at night before he went to bed—the lights were on. A pile of debris had begun to accumulate next to the driveway—including the shag carpeting. His work schedule before holidays was always crazy, so he hadn’t had a chance to stop in. But he wanted to check on her progress and thank her for assuming some of her duties early. When Clare had found out that Mrs. Scott was going away on vacation during the holiday, she’d offered to watch Nicole after school even though she hadn’t officially assumed her position yet.

Adam glanced at his watch. Since Thanksgiving was tomorrow, he’d closed the office early. It was the first time he’d been home before six o’clock in weeks. And there was plenty of time to pay his new nanny a visit before dinner.

The ground-level door to the apartment opened without a problem; the carpenter he’d called had obviously paid a visit. He stepped inside, noting that the stairwell had been cleaned up, as well. The bare light bulbs at the bottom and top of the stairs had been hidden under shades that softly diffused the light. The walls were brighter, too, he noted as he made his ascent. They’d been painted in a soft eggshell color. And the wooden steps had been thoroughly cleaned.

Raising his hand to knock on the door, Adam paused at an unfamiliar sound. His daughter’s laughter. His throat tightened with emotion, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward. He had known it would take a major miracle to get his daughter back on track. But if Clare could get her to laugh, she’d already worked a minor one. He hoped this was just the beginning.

His knock was answered almost immediately, and his words of greeting died on his lips as he stared at the woman looking back at him. Clare’s honey-gold hair was carelessly pulled back into a ponytail, and her paint-spattered jeans and sweatshirt were a far cry from her usual designer clothes. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup, either—unless you counted the specks of paint dotting her porcelain complexion. She looked far younger and less sophisticated than in any of their previous encounters. She also looked very, very appealing.

A faint flush rose on Clare’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze under Adam’s close scrutiny. Nervously she wiped her hands on her worn jeans.

“Sorry for the way I look. I wasn’t expecting company,” she apologized in a breathless voice.

“I didn’t mean to barge in. I just wanted to thank you for keeping an eye on Nicole this week. And to see if you needed any help with anything.”

She stepped aside and motioned him in. “Actually, everything’s going really well. Take a look.”

Adam walked into the room, then stopped, stunned by the transformation.

The walls had been painted a sunny yellow. The couch, which seemed to have new cushions, had been slipcovered in a floral print with throw pillows tucked in the corners. A rocking chair had been added, and the ripped lampshade had been replaced. The top of the scarred coffee table was hidden by a large lace doily, and an arrangement of dried flowers stood in the middle. Attractive valances had been draped over the two windows, and the pine floor gleamed under a coat of wax.

Slowly he made his way toward the kitchen area. The blemishes on the wood table and chairs had been masked by bright white paint, and cobalt blue accents on the rungs and table legs added a whimsical touch. Even the nicks in the countertops seemed to have disappeared.

The faint scent of lemon hung in the air, and everything was spotlessly clean.

Adam shook his head and turned to Clare. “This is amazing! How in the world did you manage to do all this in three days?” he asked incredulously.

She grinned, obviously pleased by his reaction. “Lots of elbow grease. I told you I’m stronger than I look. And Ellen was great. Thanks for sending her over. I also had some other help.” She nodded toward the bedroom.

He moved toward the doorway. Nicole was on a ladder, sponge painting a wall in peach tones and humming along to some song only she could hear through the earphones of her portable CD player. As she stretched toward the pan of paint, Adam instinctively took a step toward her.

“Be careful, Nicole.”

Her placid expression changed to a frown when she saw him. Reluctantly she removed her earphones. “What?”

“I just said to be careful. Ladders can be dangerous.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m eleven. I know how to use a ladder.”

“I did the top of the walls already. Nicole’s helping me with the rest,” Clare said from behind him. “She’s doing a terrific job, isn’t she?”

Adam turned and looked at Clare. Her eyes seemed to say, “Trust me. I wouldn’t let her do anything dangerous. And give her a compliment.”

Adam got the message. “This looks great, Nicole.” In truth, it did. He really couldn’t tell where Clare’s handiwork stopped and his daughter’s began.

When Nicole didn’t respond, Clare glanced at her watch. “Looks like it’s almost dinnertime, Nicole. Why don’t you clean up in the bathroom, then you can walk back to the house with your dad.”

“I’m not finished yet.”

“You’ve already done more than I expected. You were just going to do two walls, remember? You’re almost done with the third one. Thanks to you, I’ll actually be able to move into the bedroom tonight.”

Adam frowned. “Where have you been sleeping?”

“The couch was fine for a couple of nights,” she replied lightly. “But I’m anxious to try out the new mattress. It looks very comfortable. Thanks again for ordering it.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“What do you want me to do with the sponges?” Nicole had climbed off the ladder and now spoke to Clare.

“You can just leave them there. I’m going to do a little more work after you leave. Just show me where you left off.”

Adam glanced around the bedroom while Nicole and Clare conferred about the walls. A comforter, still in its plastic bag, stood in the middle of the bed, which had been pulled to the center of the room. The cracked mirror had been replaced with one in a white wicker frame, and a lace runner on the dresser effectively hid the scarred top. Lace curtains hung at the window, and a shade had been added for privacy. As Nicole headed for the bathroom to clean up, Adam turned to Clare.

“Where are you going to put the bed?”

“In the middle, over there,” she said, pointing to one of the finished walls. “That way, when I wake up in the morning, I can look out the window and see the fir trees on the hill.”

Shrugging out of his jacket, Adam handed it to her. “Hold this for me and I’ll move the bed for you.”

She took the soft leather garment, which emanated a faint but very masculine scent. “I can do that,” she protested.

“It’s too heavy for you. This will only take a minute.”

Clare thought about arguing, then decided against it. The bed was heavy. She’d had a tough time jockeying it to the center of the room so she could paint the walls. And it was even heavier now, with the new mattress on it.

Adam finished the job far faster than she would have. And considering the way his muscles bunched with strain under the fine cotton of his shirt, revealing impressive biceps, she was glad she’d let him handle it.

“Is this about right?” He stepped back to survey his handiwork.

“Perfect.”

He slid his arms back into his jacket, then planted his fists on his hips. “Look, Clare, I appreciate all your efforts here. But the nanny position doesn’t require heavy manual labor. You could get hurt trying to move something like that bed. Promise me you won’t tackle any more jobs like that.”

“I think I’m almost done, anyway.”

“Promise me.”

His deep-brown eyes were intent, and slowly she nodded. “If it’s that important to you, okay, I promise. But like I told you, I’m stronger than I look.”

Silently he reached for her hand, splaying the small, delicate fingers in his much-larger palm. She was so taken aback that she could only stare, first at her paint-splattered fingers against his strong, yet gentle hand, then into his intense, enigmatic eyes.

“This hand was not made for heavy labor. I’m sorry if you think that’s a sexist remark, but it’s the truth. You have a very delicate bone structure, and it wouldn’t take much to crush these fingers. That’s a medical fact, and I don’t want to be paying any house calls to my new neighbor. Okay?”