Wanted A Real Family(6)

When Sara glanced toward Amy, Jase assured her, “She’s fine. She knows exactly where you are.” He motioned to his assistant, Marissa, who was dropping another pack of markers beside Amy. “Will you keep an eye on her?” he called.

Marissa smiled and nodded.

“Marissa’s the one who knew all about The Mommy Club and gave me Kaitlyn’s number. Apparently the organization helped her when she was pregnant.”

Then, glancing inside the cottage, he changed the subject back to the situation at hand. “You need to tell us which wall would be the best backing for the sofa.”

Sara hadn’t seen Jase since the day she’d visited Raintree to decide about the cottage. She’d spoken to him on the phone a few times to make arrangements for today, and each time, the sound of his voice had lingered long after the call.

She glanced up at the hummingbird feeder he’d hung on the porch and had to smile. When he stood aside to let her enter, she was aware of his aftershave and trying not to be.

The sofa sat crosswise in the living room. Her attention was focused more on Jase than on the furniture. Still, she eyed the space instead of his gray eyes.

“Let’s not put it against a wall,” she said. “Let’s move it in front of the fireplace. Amy and I can curl up there on cool nights. We can put that wing chair by the window and Amy can watch TV from there.”

“Don’t you watch TV?”

“Not so much. If I do settle down on the sofa at night after Amy goes to bed, I usually conk out.” Or she sat in the silence and worried about how she was going to pay the bills. But Jase didn’t need to know that. If she confided in him about Conrad and about the debts, she’d be opening the door to confidences she didn’t know she was ready to share...didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for again.

Steering the subject away from her personal life, Sara commented, “I wonder where all this furniture came from. If it was used, it’s been repainted and repaired like new.”

“I did a little digging and found out there are a lot of guardian angels in The Mommy Club, from someone depositing funds in a never-ending account, to all the volunteers who lend a helping hand.”

Kaitlyn Foster slipped into the small cottage. She was a striking woman, with blond hair and green eyes, who could make any woman envious of her. But her personality as a compassionate pediatrician was as striking as her good looks. That compassion seemed to extend to all areas of her life. She’d been so kind to Sara after the fire and so good with Amy.

Now she was carrying a small bedside lamp in pink and white, perfect for a little girl’s room. “I just have to plug this in and Amy’s room is ready. The sheets are on the bed if you want to make it.”

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay The Mommy Club. Is there anything I can do to help kids or a family who needs it?”

Kaitlyn said, “We have a food drive coming up, as well as a summer program for kids and parents. We provide lunches and food baskets for families who are down on their luck and kids who are hungry. All of it makes a difference. Even if lunch is just a sandwich with an apple, the kids act like it’s a gourmet meal. We can always use help. After you get settled in, we can talk about it more.”

Jase suddenly said, “I’d like to help, too.”

Both women stared at him.

“What? A man can’t help The Mommy Club? I can donate funds and a little time. Sure, I’m as busy as the next guy, but helping kids—that used to be my life’s goal.”

Again some of the pictures Jase had taken and stories he’d written ran through Sara’s mind. She knew precisely what had happened to change his life’s goal. What exactly was his goal now? Did he miss his old life?

After Kaitlyn said again she’d be in touch about the food drive and headed toward Amy’s room, Jase moved away from Sara, took one end of the sofa and pushed it where she wanted it in front of the fireplace. “How’s that?”

“Perfect. If you ever tire of making wine, you can move furniture,” she joked.

He gazed straight out the window to the winery. When his gaze met hers again, she thought she saw a bit of longing in his eyes. Just what did Jase Cramer long for?

He studied her and then came closer, his voice low and a bit husky. He said, “The only reason I can push that sofa around is the physical therapy you gave me.”

“Jase—”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t so.”

“Any therapist who took you on as a patient could have strengthened your arm and shoulder and put you on an exercise regimen to make you healthy again.”