After they’d finally settled on how to remodel his cousin’s house, they were faced with being finished. There were no more reasons to work together. No reason to stay in the same room, side by side.
It took Alix all of thirty seconds to decide to run upstairs and get her fat portfolio of school drawings. When she’d first realized that she was going to meet Jared Montgomery, actually be living near him, she’d fantasized about all the wonderful things he’d tell her about her work—just as her teachers did.
But Jared had gone through them quickly and said, “Do you have anything original?”
For a moment Alix felt like a little girl. She’d wanted to run away and hide so she could cry. And she wanted to call her best friend and tell her what a jerk Montgomery really was.
But in the next moment she became a professional and began to defend her work. When she saw a tiny bit of a smile from him she knew that’s what he was pushing her to do.
One by one, they went over her drawings and tore them apart. Only if she could give a good argument for a design feature did he begrudgingly admit it was possible. What was really annoying was that Alix saw that he was nearly always right. His eye for proportion and his intuition for design were perfect. As her father often said, “You can’t teach talent,” and talent was what Jared Montgomery Kingsley had in abundance.
Under his guidance, she changed nearly everything she’d drawn—and they were all improved.
It was on the last day—to Alix’s astonishment—that he brought out the plans for a house he had designed for a client in New Hampshire.
By that time they had become quite familiar with each other through work and shared meals and even falling asleep in the same room. Even so, she was hesitant to say anything critical about his designs, but then the truth was that it was extraordinary. That he—and for all his name changes, he was the Jared Montgomery—would ask her opinion gave her a moment of speechlessness.
“You have nothing to
say?”
“It’s perfect,” she whispered, and the exterior was. But then she saw the floor plan. She took a breath and plunged ahead. “The living room is in the wrong place,” she said, and they went on from there.
Now that they were truly done with the plans, she wondered if he would retreat to the guesthouse and work on his own. Several times he’d mentioned the house in California that he had to do and Alix’d had to work not to say something about her own design. But there was something so personal about the chapel she’d drawn that she didn’t want it critiqued.
On impulse, she pulled her suitcase out from under the bed, unzipped it, and removed the little model. She was still so pleased with it that she couldn’t bear having someone tell her the roof angle was wrong or the steeple was too tall or too short. She liked it just the way it was.
Standing up, the model on the palm of her hand, she held it up to the portrait of Captain Caleb. “What do you think?” she asked. “You like it or not?”
Of course there was silence and Alix smiled at the thought of receiving an answer. She turned to put the model back into the suitcase, but looked back at the portrait. “If you like it just as it is, make something move.”
Instantly, the framed photo of the two women yet again fell off the table and hit the thick rug.
For a moment Alix felt a little dizzy at what had happened. She told herself that the picture falling just when she’d asked the question was a coincidence, but she didn’t believe it.
She sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the model. “I guess you do like it,” she said. She was glad when there was no response to her words. “And it looks like I’m living in a haunted house.”
She didn’t want to think about that too much. After a few deep breaths she stood up, put the model back in its hiding spot, and went to the door.
A white envelope like the one that had been with the daffodil had been pushed under the door. “Why didn’t you tell me this was here?” she said aloud, then caught herself. “And don’t you dare answer that. One ghostly answer a day is all I can take.”
She opened the envelope and saw the distinctive lettering.
Would you like to go with me to liberate an old truck?
Alix couldn’t help laughing and doing a little dance around the room. “Oh, yes, I would love to go,” she said aloud as she danced over to Captain Caleb’s portrait. “Are you happy about this?” she asked, looking up at him, then said, “Do not make anything fall down.”
She was pleased when everything in the room held steady. After taking a moment to compose herself, she headed downstairs. As before, Jared was in the living room reading a newspaper. All their papers and the big prints were gone from the floor and neatly stacked on the shelves.
“Hungry?” he asked without looking up.
“Starved. Did we get any cereal?”
“No,” he said as he put down the paper and looked at her.
She thought she saw a spark in his eyes, but it was quickly gone.
“If you can scramble eggs, I can make toast. Toby sent over some jam she made.”