“I’m sorry that work has gotten even worse lately,” he said, crossing one arm over his chest and pressing it into his body with the opposite hand, loosening his tight shoulder and triceps. “I think I’ll have a workout. Care to join me?”
“I exercised earlier,” I replied. Alone.
“I’ve been thinking about hiring someone to come out to help with some light chores around the house and being a sort of… companion for you until this damn merger is finished.”
My gaze jumped to his face. I was completely taken by surprise.
“What? A companion? You’re thinking of hiring someone to be my friend?”
“Of course not,” he said, dropping his hands to the desk. He leaned toward me, his expression serious. Earnest. “I feel bad because work is taking up so much of my time.”
“You say you feel bad about me hiking in the woods on my own, but not bad enough to come and join me.”
I immediately regretted my sharpness when I saw his expression flatten.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have said it like that. Or maybe I should have,” I said, meeting his stare. “I don’t need a watchdog, Evan. And you don’t need to feel guilty. I’m fine.”
“I wasn’t thinking of a watchdog. That’s ridiculous,” he replied curtly. “We could use someone to do housework while you paint. And there are other things you’d like to do, things that I haven’t been able to do with you because of this merger. Like see the local sights, or go kayaking or diving, for instance? You could be enjoying yourself a lot more if—”
“If I can’t do those things with you, than I’d rather wait until I can.”
He exhaled slowly. My guilt amplified at his slightly annoyed, weary expression. I felt like a grumpy child.
“Don’t be mad at me, Evan. I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m completely happy. We spend every evening and night together. It’s more than most couples do.”
He gave a short laugh. Relief swept through me when he reached for my hand and drew me around the desk. He wrapped me in his arms and pressed his face to the top of my head.
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You were, a little,” I mumbled against his chest.
I looked up at the sound of his gruff laughter. I couldn’t help but smile at the warmth in his usually cool gaze.
“Don’t look so smug,” he cautioned. “I’m not convinced that hiring someone wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“I’ll convince you,” I whispered. I went up my tiptoes and pulled his head lower, brushing my lips against his. He pulled back several inches, regarding me with a heavy-lidded stare. I held my breath, waiting…
“You are very convincing, Anna,” he said before his mouth closed on mine.
The memory of the old woman stayed with me. I couldn’t help but be concerned about her.
A few days after our first meeting, I again glimpsed her rambling between the beach boulders in the distance. I called to her from the overlook. She paused, placing her hand on the surface of a granite boulder and looked around. I shouted hello again, and waved. A brisk breeze kicked up from the lake, plastering her print skirt and mismatched sweatshirt against her body. I saw her rib cage. Her thinness and frailty were uncomfortably
obvious.
I thought of bringing her into the house and making her a hearty meal. Evan probably wouldn’t approve, but I suddenly didn’t care. I waved again, and then made a beckoning gesture to her. She was too far away for me to really say for certain, but I thought I saw her scowl as she squinted at me.
Then she turned, slipped in the sand, corrected herself gracelessly, and scurried out of sight.
Undaunted, I made a small basket of food before going up to the overlook the next morning. It took a few days before I saw her again, and could put the lunch basket to use. As I painted, I saw a flash of white out of the corner of my eye.
I glimpsed the woman near the boathouse, walking along the dock, the white smock she wore waving in the wind. I tossed down my brush and hurried to get the basket. I rushed down the slope, luckily not falling on my face in my haste.
She’d meandered toward the tree line on the south side of the property by the time I caught up to her.
“Hello!” I called between pants.
She turned and looked at me. Abruptly, she swung around and began heading again for the forest. I’d glimpsed her face. Her expression had been hunted, which made me feel guilty.