Wanted A Real Family(3)

As they walked toward the main house, Sara looked out over the vineyard. It was an absolutely beautiful setting. Jase had once told her it encompassed over two hundred acres. Clover covered some fields. Lush green was everywhere, from the trees and shrubs, to the trellises of grapevines. There were deep, rich scents here, from the earthy damp ground to the roses. It was crazy, but she almost felt like a different person here. Maybe she and Amy had made a mistake by staying in the house that Conrad had bought them to the detriment of them all. When she’d married Conrad, she’d loved him in a naive, too-trusting way. Over the course of her marriage, she’d explicitly learned how one-sided trust could destroy everything.

Although she was close by Sara’s side, Amy nevertheless seemed eager to follow Jase. She was used to other kids being around her in day care, but as for adults, mostly women were in and out of her life. In the past year, Sara hadn’t thought about it much, but male role models were important to little girls, too.

Stone steps led to the polished walnut back door of the main house. Jase opened it and they stepped inside a cavernous kitchen. This room held none of the warmth of the cottage, though it did have a brick fireplace with a rounded arch and fire screen. The appliances were shiny stainless steel and they looked as if they, too, had been replaced recently. The granite counters gleamed and the copper pots hanging from the ceiling above the sink looked as if they’d never been used. There weren’t any colorful place mats on the oak pedestal table, or flowered curtains at the windows. The blinds were tilted closed, not letting in much light.

Jase pointed to the counter and the glass-domed dish. The sweet rolls were a confectioner’s delight and Amy’s eyes grew wide along with her smile.

“Can I, Mommy?”

“Sure, you can. But I think we’ll need plenty of napkins to go along with the sweet roll.”

Jase pulled dishes from a cupboard and a few napkins from another. They all sat at the table. Amy was happily biting into jelly, sweet icing and pastry when Jase said, “In your interview, I heard you lost your husband a year ago. I’m sorry.”

Sara tore off a piece of a roll but suddenly had no appetite for it. Thanks to real-time research, the journalist who’d interviewed her had already known much of her background. “Yes, it was a year ago.”

“Was it sudden?” Jase prompted.

“A heart attack.”

Jase’s expression turned questioning, so she added, “He was fifteen years older than I was. Forty-four. The doctor said whatever triggered it might have been a congenital abnormality.”

And physically, she knew that was certainly true. But the stress in his life definitely hadn’t helped. She tried to keep herself from feeling guilty, but she was to blame, too—for being so blind. She hadn’t known he’d taken on a supersized mortgage. She hadn’t known about his credit card debt. As a new wife, first pregnant and then busy with an infant as well as work, she’d let Conrad handle their finances. She hadn’t asked enough questions. She’d trusted too much.

Jase’s eyes were kind as he looked at her, and her heart started thumping faster as she thought she saw more than kindness there.

Unexpectedly, Amy laid very sticky fingers on Jase’s shirtsleeve and asked, “Can I have some milk?”

“Oh, Amy.” Grape jelly streaked the white fabric of Jase’s shirt. Over the years, Sara had found men didn’t like the messiness of kids. Conrad had never wanted to feed Amy himself when she was a baby, so it was automatic for Sara to jump up, grab a napkin and try to fix the mess. Had she resented that he didn’t seem to love their daughter as much as she did?

She dabbed at Jase’s sleeve, smearing the jelly more. Her fingers slipped from the material to his arm. His skin was hot, his hair rough, and when she met his gaze—

The inordinate silence when their awareness of each other took hold was enough to rattle her bones.

“Mommy, I’m sorry,” Amy wailed.

Sara knew she was making a mess of this whole thing. She wrapped her arm around her daughter. “It’s okay. We’ll wash Mr. Cramer’s shirt. We’ll fix this.”

Jase clasped her shoulder. “It’s okay. Relax. It’s just a shirt.”

He addressed Amy. “Sticky fingers and sweet rolls go together. Let me get that milk.” He rolled both of his sleeves up further to cover the jelly and grinned at Amy. “See? All fixed.”

He motioned for Sara to sit again. “You’re too jumpy. You need to take a walk through the vineyard and relax.” Then he must have realized he’d chided her and shook his head. “Sorry. I have no right to give you advice. I can’t imagine what losing your home was like.”