Gift from the Heart

“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.