Still Waters

“Did he live here? Or just see patients?”

“Oh, he lived here. He and his wife raised seven children….” Tiffany’s voice trailed off as she realized she was babbling on about something Jake probably had no interest in. “Sorry, I got off on a tangent.”

“I was enjoying your tangent.”

“Really?” Tiffany cringed at the hopeful sound in her voice. Being around Jake had turned her into a blathering idiot.

“Yeah, really.” There was a smile in Jake’s voice and Tiffany could feel her own smile forming.

“Well, most people don’t. My family and friends all thought I was crazy to buy this old place. And I can’t say I blame them. It was in pretty bad shape.”

“Not anymore. You’re doing a great job restoring it.”

“Thanks, but with my computer business, I just don’t have the time to do it all.” Tiffany’s gaze drifted to the half-stripped fireplace mantel. “I’ve got the kitchen, the hall and this room almost finished. And my bedroom upstairs. But there’s still a lot to do.”

“Is that why you hired Tom?”

“Yes, that was part of it.”

“And the other part was that you figured he needed a place to spend his time?”

Jake’s words made Tiffany’s shoulders tense. After Brian’s comments on her naïveté, she felt defensive about hiring Tom. But when she looked into Jake’s midnight eyes, there was no condemnation, just interest and curiosity. Relaxing, Tiffany shrugged her shoulders and tried to think of the best way to answer Jake’s question. “Wanting to give Tom a place to spend time helped me make my decision. But it was his remorse that made me certain he’d be a good employee.”

“Remorse?”

“Yes. I could tell from speaking with him that Tom regretted what he had done. If he had any idea the dog would be hurt, I think he would have fought the other kids to keep it from happening.”

“I’m not so sure of that. This isn’t the first time Tom’s made a poor decision, and there aren’t many people in this town who are willing to forget that.”

“There should be. We’ve been called to forgive as Christ forgave us. Besides, someone needs to help the Bishops. Things have been hard for them lately.”

“It doesn’t have to be you, Tiffany. Not when it might mean putting yourself in danger.”

“I don’t think there’s any danger in giving Tom a job.”

“I hope not. But be careful. I’ve seen things like this go bad before.”

Jake spoke quietly, a shadow darkening his eyes, and Tiffany wondered what had put it there. She resisted the urge to ask him, telling herself she didn’t know him well enough to pry. “I’ll be careful. But like I said, I think Tom will be fine. He just needs someone to believe in him.”

Jake was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he watched Tiffany. “You and your house make a good match.”

Puzzled by the turn in conversation, Tiffany brushed at a stray curl and commanded her sluggish brain to respond. “How’s that?”

“Both of you are interesting and unbelievably unique.”

Tiffany wasn’t sure Jake’s words were a compliment, but at least he hadn’t said they were both old and decrepit. “Thanks. I guess.”

Jake laughed quietly, the sound deep and mellow. “See, that’s what I mean. Most women wouldn’t thank a man for comparing them to a house.”

Tiffany smiled and leaned back against an oversize pillow. The long day, the comfort of Jake’s presence and the effects of the medication she’d taken made Tiffany feel drowsy and warm. Her eyes drifted closed and she forced them back open.

“You’re exhausted. I’d better go.” Jake stood and Tiffany followed suit, forcing her aching body up from the couch.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Are you sure you should be walking anywhere?”

“I’m much better. The headache is down to a dull throb.”

Jake nodded and led the way out the door and into the hall. “Nice collection of quilts.”

“Thank you. My mother and grandmother are both quilters. Some of these are theirs. Others I bought at flea markets and garage sales.”

“Do you quilt?”

“When I can find time. Which isn’t often enough. That quilt,” Tiffany gestured to a quilt done in shades of blue and yellow, “is one of mine.”

Jake stepped closer, examining the pattern. “This is my favorite. It looks like a bursting star.”

“You’re close. It’s a broken star pattern.”

“Looks pretty complicated.”

“It wasn’t one of the easiest quilts I’ve made but I enjoyed doing it.”

“Your love of the craft shows. The work is detailed and exact. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.”

Jake continued studying the quilt for a moment before he turned away. “I’d better leave you to your rest.”

“Thanks again.”

“No problem. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Jake pulled open the front door and stepped out into the night. “Tiffany?”

Something about the way Jake said her name sent Tiffany’s heart skittering in her chest. “Yes?”

“I’m pretty sure Tom is going to take the job you offered him. If he does and you have any trouble, give the station a ring. I’m on vacation for a week, but they know how to reach me. Tell the dispatcher I want to be called.”

“All right.”

Without another word, Jake walked down the porch steps, climbed into his truck and drove away.

Tiffany watched as the taillights of the Chevy disappeared. Then she closed the front door and leaned against its heavy wood. With Jake gone the house seemed silent and lonely, the cream-colored hallway with its bright quilts too empty. There should be children upstairs giggling and whispering secrets to one another, and toys scattered across the floors. Instead there was silence and a neatness that came from living alone.