“I’ll help you.”
“What?” She drew away to wipe her eyes and look at him.
“I’ll stay in Janes Creek and help you.”
“You can’t do that. I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh. Sorry. It’s Russell Pendergast. I’m twenty-eight years old and my father is Randall Maxwell.”
“Isn’t he . . . ?”
“Right. A mega big shot in the world. But I think he may have—” Russell thought that the story of whether or not his father had sent him there to meet Clarissa was for another time. “My mother works for him. Or for my brother at the moment, but he’s about to move to Edilean, and my mother wants to live there too. Where’s your son?”
“In Sunday school. One of the women I work with takes him so I can spend a couple of hours here.” She glanced at the old place. “I think I need more than a couple of hours a week, don’t you?”
“This place needs months, lots of machinery and materials, and at least a dozen workmen.”
“Or women,” she said, and he smiled.
“Right. Where do you work?”
“Guess.”
“For a doctor? In a hospital? Something to do with medicine.”
“It looks like you’re not just a pretty face,” she said, then turned red. “I didn’t mean . . .”
Russell was smiling at her. “Is there someplace I can get a shirt? I don’t want to go back to the hotel. And breakfast. I’m afraid I left without eating and I’m famished.”
“I . . .” She hesitated. “In my attic I have a box of my father’s clothes. He was about as big as you. I could throw one in the washer while I make you a pile of bacon and eggs.”
“When does your son get home?”
“About eleven.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Russell said softly.
“And I’d like for him to meet you.”
For a moment they looked at each other and there seemed to be an understanding that this could be the beginning of something real, something permanent.
Russell was the first to break the silence. “Would you and Jamie like to go to a picnic with me today at one? I’m sure there’ll be lots of food, and I think I can arrange to have some entertainment for Jamie there.” His eyes told how much he wanted her to go with him.
“I think we’d both love that.”
“Great!” Russell said as he stood up. But that crinkled his back and he winced in pain.
Again, Clarissa put her arm around his waist to help him.
“I may stay injured forever,” he said as he put his arm around her shoulders. “So what does Jamie like? Balloons? Animals? Acrobats?”
“Fire engines,” she said. “The bigger, the redder, the better.”
“Fire engines it is,” Russell said.
“I’m going to go get my car and bring it around,” Clarissa said. “Stand here and don’t move your back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Russell said and watched her hurry away.