Chapter 29

 

The day dragged, without anything to keep Amy’s mind off the need to apologize to Michael when he returned. She sat in the living room with Aunt Bay, working on his sweater while keeping an eye out the window for his van. When he finally pulled into the driveway, she stuffed her knitting back into the bag.

Her hip protested when she stood. “Pray I can say this right and not make things worse?”

Michael’s aunt nodded. Amy hurried to the entrance. When she heard his footsteps on the concrete, she opened the door.

He stopped, as if assessing the threat level. “Hi.”

Amy stepped back to let him in. “I’m sorry, Michael. I shouldn’t have blown up like that. You were being kind, and I overreacted.” She tried to laugh. “Roses aren’t cheap.”

The pain didn’t leave his eyes. Was he still blaming himself for Saturday? He shrugged. “I put them in the gallery. Can we talk? Maybe walk down to the water?”

“Sure. Aunt Bay’s in the living room.”

Michael poked his head into the room to say hello and tell his aunt where they were going. Amy walked with him through the house.

He stopped in the kitchen and set his shopping bag on the table. “I stopped at the Christian bookstore. They don’t have any copies of the magazine with the Harry Silver interview yet, but what I went for was this.” He pulled a flat box from the bag. “I’m not trying to buy my way back into your good graces, but I wanted to give you something that shows I care. With no hidden meaning to tie you to something you don’t want. Will you take this?”

Amy reached for the box as he held it out. The label said it was a Bible. She opened the cover and found a pale green book.

“Green, for growth. That’s all the symbolism, I promise. I chose a translation I like, but I didn’t write an inscription in case you wanted to change it.” His grin was hesitant. “Aunt Bay will be mad. She wanted to buy you one.”

The leatherette cover felt soft against Amy’s fingertips. She took the slim volume from the box. “Thank you, Michael. I’ll treasure this.” Especially if she had to leave here.

His forehead smoothed. “You’re welcome. There’s a reading guide inside to take you through the entire book in a year, but Aunt Bay has some better ideas on how to introduce you to the highlights first.”

Amy set the Bible back in the box but left the cover open. She placed it on the table. “You really didn’t need to buy me a gift. But I do appreciate it. Would a hug be appropriate?”

He opened his arms. His embrace was light, brotherly. Brief. The jealous ghost of Gilles would approve.

Stop that. The man was being kind — again — and again Amy was letting it push her buttons. Now she was blaming her dead fiancé, too. Which one of them was coming unhinged? Amy rolled her eyes at herself and followed Michael to the back door.

They strolled down the grassy slope toward the water, under trees that would soon turn from green to oranges and yellows. Amy had already spotted a few early splashes of colour from her bedroom window. Ordinarily she loved the fall, but it was a time of death and decay. Of endings. Was God trying to tell her something? How could she know for sure? Del had told her to stay. Not that he outranked the Lord.

Michael cleared his throat. “I owe you an explanation. For Saturday.”

“You wanted me to stay here until whoever’s threatening me is arrested. Del said the same thing. It would be harder to keep us all safe if we’re scattered.” Amy stared straight ahead. “Ross was just making an offer.”

“Emilie thinks you’re… romantically interested in Ross. She said that’s what upset you on Saturday.”

“And you believed her?” Amy whirled. “Michael, she’s crazy about you. She’ll say whatever she can to keep me off your radar. I used to think she was my friend, but since you and I did the road trip to Toronto, she’s been playing mind games — with us both, it seems. What else has she told you?”

Michael looked away. “Once she met Neal, she said you’d planned from the start to stay here instead of letting him look after you — that you wanted to trap me in a relationship, as a surrogate for Gilles.” He snorted. “Before that, she was always playing up your grief, how there’d never be another man for you and you’d stay single to honour his memory.”

He met Amy’s eyes. “I believed her, for the longest time. Until she switched stories faster than she changes her hair colour.”

Amy moistened her lips. “Gilles will always be a part of me, but please don’t tie me to him. I’d like the chance at another relationship… with the right person.” Her cheeks heated.

“Ross.”

“Ross is a friend. That’s all.”

Some of the tension left Michael’s face, but his eyebrows pulled together. “There’s more to Ross than you see. I need you to promise to stay away from him.”

Amy shook her head. “He’s always been a perfect gentleman. And you can’t worry about him stealing me from Gilles — his dad’s going to arrange a marriage with a suitable Muslim girl. Which I am not.”

“Stealing you from Gilles?”

Holding her ground, Amy searched his eyes. “Isn’t that what you’re really afraid of? That I’ll find someone else? Be unfaithful to Gilles’ memory?”

“Um… Gilles would want you to heal, and to love again.” Michael’s mouth turned down. “He would not want you spending time with Ross.”

“They didn’t know each other.”

“He knew enough. Please. Promise me.”

Amy walked along the edge of the grass and perched on a flat rock facing the water. “Emilie says you’re trying to keep me bound to Gilles, like a living exhibit. She’s lied to us both, but every time I try to rejoin the human race, you find a reason to hold me back. Now you’re not even telling me about new threats, in case I might try to leave. What am I supposed to think?”

A gentle wind stirred the trees and lifted strands of Amy’s hair. She brushed them away from her face. “It’s time to open the sanctuary gates. Unless you mean to turn them into a cage.”

Finally Michael spoke. “I’ve overprotected you, but I couldn’t bear to see you hurt again.” He climbed down the short set of stairs where the land fell away to a stony shore and stood looking up at her, hands spread wide. “I was wrong.”

“So you won’t mind if I go out tonight. With Troy.” The words tumbled over one another.

Michael’s hands dropped to his sides. He seemed to shrink. “Troy.”

“He asked me this morning. I like his dedication to truth. And he’s kind of hot.”

Michael walked to the water’s edge and scooped up a handful of stones. One by one, he hurled them into the bay. Then he stood, feet braced wide. Staring at… what?

Amy smoothed her hair and let it fall behind her back. If he’d been bluffing, she’d called him on it. If he was mentally ill, what had she done? “Michael?” Amy pushed to her feet and made her way carefully down the stairs and across the stones.

She stopped a pace behind him. “Michael. Talk to me.” After a minute, she touched his shoulder. “I’m still here.”

He turned and looked down into her face. “Healing from Gilles doesn’t mean you need to rush into a new relationship. Being single is okay.”

“I know that. Aunt Bay is a prime example of a fulfilled single life. But what if I want to fall in love again… and have a family?” Heat rose in Amy’s cheeks. He couldn’t miss the longing in her voice.

The wind lifted her hair again. Michael caught a lock that grazed his cheek. He let the hair slide through his grasp, and twined the ends around his fingers. “What about me?”

Amy was a statue. Watching him play with a ribbon of her hair. Trying to read his face. “What about you?”

“Would you… be willing… to try dating me?” He spoke to the strands of her hair.

Amy’s heart banged in her ears. She moistened her lips. “I—” Was this what Troy intended? Or did they have to go through the charade of a date? Amy ached to melt into Michael’s arms. Accept his hesitant invitation and scrap Troy’s plan.

Cold swept her. Why had Michael asked? He’d expressed his lack of feelings for her pretty clearly on Saturday night. Why this reversal? Amy’s stomach dropped and she gasped. “It’s not you — it’s still about Gilles. You want to take his place so no one else can have me.”

She spun, but her tethered hair yanked her back. “Let me go!”

“I’m trying! Hold still. But, Amy, that’s not what I meant. I—”

Her hair came free and she bolted for the house, heart pounding. At her fastest, on level ground, Michael could have caught her without losing his breath. Amy scrambled up the stairs and across the grass. When she looked back, panting, from the doorway, he knelt huddled by the water, only the top of his back visible.

Amy threw herself into a deck chair. She couldn’t face Aunt Bay this way. Once her breathing slowed, she pulled out her cell and shot Troy a text. Yes. Tonight. Not that he’d be able to help.

 

~~~

 

Neal phoned while Amy was getting ready to meet Troy. Good thing she’d started early. It gave her time now to talk. His tone spoke concern. “You’re not worn out from yesterday, are you? You looked pale when I dropped you off.”

“It’s been a busy few days. But I’m so glad we’ve been able to spend some time together.” Amy turned her back to the mirror and used a hand mirror to check the back of her hair, carefully woven into a French braid. She’d taken more care with her appearance for this one night than she did in an average week.

A silk blouse of antique gold — a gift from Gilles — brought out the highlights in her hair. Slim-fitting chocolate pants kept her from feeling over-dressed. Amy checked her makeup in the tiny mirror. Subtle, but effective. “I left Michael to enjoy Emilie’s company last night and had a good soak in the tub. He’s been trying so hard to be kind to me today… you didn’t scare him when you left, did you?”

“Maybe. I gave him my best face-off glare, and told him he was responsible for not only your safety but your happiness as well. He turned a little white around the eyes.” Neal’s chuckle carried a satisfied ring. “Good to know I haven’t lost my touch. Seriously, I hate leaving you like this. Empty threats are bad enough, but these sound serious. I know you have a security system, but still… If you need to get away, you’ll let me know, right?”

“I will.” Amy slid a gold bangle onto her wrist and held it up to the light. “I have a date tonight. A friend thinks it might wake Michael up.”

Michael had confined himself to his studio, from what she heard music-wise, until Aunt Bay called him to supper a few minutes ago. Would he come out of the kitchen to say goodbye? Or to confront Troy? Amy put the bangle back into her jewellery box. If he didn’t surface, she’d wasted all this for nothing. Not that she had anything better to do.

“That’s my girl. Take the fight to him. Listen, my flight’s not until tomorrow afternoon. I know it’s a work day, but could we do brunch? Michael and his aunt too, if they’d like? We could meet halfway, and I’d drive to the airport from there.”

“Michael may not be speaking to me, and Aunt Bay usually has plans on Tuesdays, but I’ll ask them. I’ll come if I can. My knight in shining armour doesn’t want me going out alone since the threats started.”

“Worst case, I’ll pick you up. We’ll just have to eat earlier and closer to the gallery. Text me when you know. And good luck tonight. I need to go now. We have a closing dinner tonight and I’m about to be fashionably late.”

“Enjoy.” Amy ended the call and took another look at her earrings. She still liked the effect. Good. Troy would be here any minute. His responding text had asked her to keep him waiting. She hoped they weren’t taking this too far. And that it would work.

The doorbell pealed. Amy jumped. She made herself count fifty slow-ish breaths before collecting her purse and a light jacket and opening the door.

Troy’s light tones drifted up the stairs. Michael responded, stiff and low. Amy grinned. Good for Aunt Bay, leaving him to answer the bell. The older woman was visibly unhappy with the tense atmosphere, but so far she’d resisted speaking her mind — at least to Amy.

At the top of the stairs, Amy caught Troy’s next words. “It was only a matter of time before guys started asking her out. You’re not showing any interest. Why should I hold back?”

She stepped lighter. Slower, so they wouldn’t notice she was there. Michael muttered something indistinct and Amy scooted a couple of stairs lower to make him out. “You, of all people. You know how I—”

Troy spoke over his words. “Amy, you look great.”

So much for eavesdropping. Hiding her annoyance, Amy took the remaining stairs at a normal pace. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice, yourself.” She forced herself to focus on Troy and not glance at Michael. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Troy reached for the doorknob. “You’re worth the wait. After you.” He opened the door and made a sweeping gesture with his free arm.

Amy turned to Michael. “Don’t worry. I’ll be safe with Troy.”

“As long as nobody tries to run him off the road again.” His voice said angry, but the lines in his face cried hurt. Deep hurt.

Hurt because she’d stepped outside of his control? Against every instinct of her heart, Amy offered a light “Don’t wait up,” and walked out the door.

Troy pulled it shut behind them. His bandaged hand barely touching Amy’s back, he escorted her to his car. “Walk happy. He’s watching.”

Amy tipped her head to look up at Troy as if he’d said something amusing. “This is killing me.”

“Me, too. Hop in.”

He drove as far as the first parking lot and pulled in. Leaving the car idling, he leaned against the headrest and blew out a long sigh. “I feel like the worst kind of sleaze. But he needs a kick-start, or neither of you’ll be happy.”

Amy watched the passing traffic. “You don’t really have to take me to dinner. We can get fast food somewhere. I’ll pay for my own.”

“You know he’ll ask where we went.” Troy put the car in gear and started moving.

“He wanted me to cancel and go out with him instead.”

Troy shot her a look. “Why didn’t you? That’s what this is all about.”

“Troy, he keeps throwing Gilles in my face — Gilles wouldn’t like this, would want me to do that—” Amy took a deep breath. “What if everything he’s done, even asking me out to keep me from going with you, is to tie me to Gilles’ memory? Is he trying to be a surrogate? A stand-in for his dead friend?”

The words stuck in her throat, but she pushed them out. “How could I risk a relationship with him, never knowing if he was just playing some kind of sick role?”

Troy made a strange, gulping sound. “That’s not the case.”

Amy loosened the seatbelt strap against her shoulder. “He said there’s something he struggles with. Something you know about and pray for. Tell me the truth. Is Michael mentally ill?”

“No! He’s under a lot of stress right now, the same as you, with those threats. For the rest, you can trust what he says, but you’ll have to ask him yourself.”