Faithfully Yours. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ brought you a glass of water, Mrs. Rempel. Are you sure you’re all right?” The puffy lines in the woman’s face had been there before, Gillian decided, checking her patient once more.

      “Of course, dear. I’m perfectly fine.” Faith’s green eyes stared into hers. “Do I know you?” she asked curiously.

      She grinned. “I’m Hope’s niece, Gillian. I’m here teaching school.”

      “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Rempel smiled brightly. “You’re Jeremy’s new girlfriend. You two make the sweetest couple.” She stood suddenly and moved briskly to the back door. “I’ll have to clean this mess up before he gets here. Jeremy hates a mess.”

      “I’ll help you,” Gillian offered, remembering that this woman, according to her aunt, had slight lapses in memory. That would account for her erroneous linking of their names. How strange that such a lovely woman should be old sourpuss’s aunt.

      “Does he come every day?” she asked curiously. It seemed odd to think of her boss checking up on his aunt. More likely he came for a free meal so he wouldn’t have to dirty his own kitchen, she decided, still fuming at his biting remarks.

      “Almost every evening. We have dinner together. I was hoping to surprise him with a new dessert Piffle,” she grunted, glaring at the charred remains of the cherries. “Should have turned the heat down sooner.”

      Gillian grinned. So Jeremy Nivens came for a free dinner every night. Somehow she had known human kindness wasn’t the reason for Jerry’s visits. She wondered what he’d think of his aunt’s messy kitchen right now.

      “You know,” she told Faith, smiling as she wiped down the counters and stove. “In our family we had a standing joke whenever Mom burned something. We always said she thought we must be little gods because she was serving us burnt offerings.”

      Faith giggled appreciatively.

      “Underneath all this smoke, something sure smells good,” Gillian told her seriously. She opened the oven door and sniffed appreciatively. “What is that?”

      The older woman blushed, her salt-and-pepper head bending forward shyly.

      “Oh, just a little rouladin. Jeremy loves beef, you know. I imagine you’ll be cooking it often after you’re married, dear.” She scurried about, putting the last of the now-dry dishes away. “I just need to get a salad together and check the potatoes.”

      “Uh, Mrs. Rempel, Jeremy and I aren’t getting…”

      “Oh, silly me. Of course you aren’t announcing it right away. I can understand that. You both being so new to the community and all,” Faith twittered happily as she rinsed the lettuce and set it carefully in a colander to dry. She grasped Gillian’s hand in her own and glanced at her finger. “Oh, you haven’t found a ring yet?”

      “No, we haven’t,” Gillian searched for the right words, but she needn’t have bothered. Jeremy Nivens’s aunt was lost in a world of her own, green eyes sparkling with happiness as she stared at her own rings.

      “It seems just last week when Donald and I became engaged. He insisted that I choose my own ring, said it was going to have to last a good long time and he didn’t want me wearing something I didn’t like. It has lasted, too.” She didn’t say it, but Gillian could almost hear her thinking that the rings had outlasted the husband.

      “He gave me that cabinet over there,” Faith pointed to the corner china cabinet in the next room. “For our anniversary it was.” Her green eyes grew cloudy. “I forget which one, but I remember Donald saying it was my special place for my little china dolls. He sent them to me from overseas during the war.”

      “Auntie Fay? Are you all right?”

      The anxious tones of her authoritative boss jerked Gillian from her happy daydream of the past. It was strange to hear that note of concern in his voice, but moments later she decided she must have imagined it as he glared across the room at them.

      “What are you doing here?” he demanded, staring at Gillian. “Oh, never mind right now. Auntie Fay, the neighbors phoned me to say that there was smoke coming from the house. Are you all right?”

      “Oh, I’m just fine, thank you, dear. A wee bit early for dinner, aren’t you?” Faith blinked up at him innocently as her hands tore the lettuce apart and placed it in a crystal bowl. “I’m afraid I haven’t got the table set yet.”

      “There’s no rush,” he told her softly, his gray eyes gentle. “As you say, I am early. I’ll talk to her while I wait.” His head nodded at Gillian, who felt an immediate prickling of anger.

      “Yes, I suppose you two lovebirds do have some catching up to do. Go ahead out on the balcony and relax. I remember young love. Why, your fiancée and I were just talking about it.” Her benign smile left Gillian smiling back, until Jeremy’s rough voice roused her.

      “Yes,” he agreed, frowning severely as he grasped Gillian’s arm in his firm fingers and tugged her from the room. “I think Miss Langford and I definitely need to have a discussion.”

      Obediently Gillian preceded him out the back door and sank onto one of the wicker chairs Faith had placed under the awning. She slipped off her new, black patent shoes and wiggled her feet in the fresh air as she summoned enough nerve up to glance at his forbidding face.

      “Would you mind very much telling what in the dickens is going on in this nuthouse now? I mean since you are my fiancee and everything!”

      His scathing tone rasped over her nerves, but there was no way he was intimidating her, Gillian decided. Once today was enough. She glared back at him, daring him to holler at her again.

      “Well? Exactly when did we become engaged, Miss Langford?”

      Gillian couldn’t help it, the grin popped to her mouth, splitting it wide with mirth. “Since I’m your fiancee and everything,” she murmured slyly, “don’t you think it’s about time you started calling me Gillian?” Laughter burst out of her at the stupefied stare on his face. “Well? Jeremy?” It was the first time she’d seen him dumbfounded, and it was very refreshing. “Honey?” She shook his arm teasingly.

      A second later the grin was gone from her mouth as he tugged her into his arms and kissed her on the mouth. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, or even a very practiced one. In fact, Gillian suspected it had more to do with anger than anything.

      Still and all, it shook her. She liked the feel of his firm lips against hers, she decided dazedly. And his arms were strong, but gentle, around her.

      “Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered at last, staring up into his glittery blue eyes. They had a wariness about them that added to the unreality of the situation.

      “Kissing my fiancée. Surely that’s allowed?”

      Gillian stared at the transformation taking place in front of her. For once, the stern, haughty face had been replaced with a handsome, smiling countenance that drew her like a magnet. It was disconcerting to find that he affected her so. Clearly he wasn’t nearly so bothered by that kiss. His entire demeanor was calm, cool and collected. Carefully she extricated herself from his embrace and stepped back.

      “Not this early in the relationship,” she murmured, peering up СКАЧАТЬ