Secrets of the Heart Read online

  “A picnic?”

  “Yes, a picnic. Is that OK? I know it’s awfully short notice, but it would be wonderful for Evelyn ... and Mr. Robbins too.” Heather smiled

  “It’s no problem; I can do a picnic. I’m just surprised to hear Mr. Robbins will be joining the picnic. He’s rarely here for lunch. What did you have in mind, dear?”

  “Well, I was hoping you could help me with that. I don’t know what Miss Watson and Evelyn’s favorite foods are, but I wanted to include something special for them both.”

  “I know just the thing!” Miss Archer began spouting out recipes for them to take.

  Satisfied with the meal plans she had made with Miss Archer, Heather found herself wandering curiously down the east hall, eager to learn more about the Robbins estate. She passed a large singular door which led down a smaller walkway to the east. There was the musty smell of old leather and stale air the deeper she went. To Heather’s surprise, Michael’s collection of antique art grew rarer as she continued deep into the halls of the estate. Covered in sheets were beautiful paintings everywhere. Some massive some small. She made a mental note to ask Michael about them. But then a wave of mixed emotions flooded over her.

  He was stern and serious on the outside, but beneath that hardened exterior, she could sense his pain and confusion. She knew there was a tender emotional side to his heart, but he had built a wall of steel around it like Fort Knox, so nothing more could damage it. Heather wondered if even she with her gift of relating to people could break through his barriers.

  When she reached the end of the hall, there was a closed door. Heather hesitated, wondering if Michael cared that she was exploring the estate on her own. But her curiosity about his eclectic art collection drew her forward. She glanced both ways before pushing the door open. She stepped past the threshold into a large room with a domed ceiling.

  The draft of cold musty air brushed across her face, and she could smell the subtle scent of a woman’s perfume. Heather studied the walls painted in a soft pink color. Against the wall sat a 17th century French dressing table with various makeup and brushes neatly organized to the side.

  A cold chill ran down her spine as Heather instantly recognized where she had stumbled into. This had been Carla and Michael’s room. Heather experienced a nauseating feeling in her stomach. Out of the entire estate, this would have been the last place she would have wanted to visit without Michael’s invitation.

  What if he found out she had intruded into his private sanctuary? How would he handle it? Would he fire her?

  A part of her knew that whatever the outcome, it wouldn’t be good. She could picture him reprimanding her in anger, telling her she was nothing but an incompetent nurse who let her nosy curiosity get the best of her. The thought brought back painful memories of how her aunt had treated her. Her heart pounded wildly, and her body began to shake.

  “Great going, Heather. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get fired over this.”

  She quickly pivoted her body, hoping to scurry back out to the hallway before a staff member could spot her act of indiscretion. But as her legs carried her forward, her body slammed into a hard object.

  “What are you doing in here, Heather?” Michael’s voice was as cold as an Antarctic night as if he had caught her in the act of stealing.

  “Oh, Mr. Robbins,” she cried out nervously as she placed a hand over her mouth. “You scared me.” She tried to hide the trembling in her legs and voice. “I’m sorry; I was just wandering around admiring your beautiful home, and to be honest, I got caught up in the artwork in the hall, and now here I am.” She shrugged her shoulders as she threw her hands in the air.

  Michael narrowed his eyes at her. “No one, including the staff, is allowed to come into this wing. That’s been my rule for years. And you Miss Parks, are no exception. You need to get your priorities straight here if you value your job. I’m going to give you 10 seconds to leave before I say something I might regret.” His voice sounded louder and deeper than usual as he backed a step away from her.

  Heather immediately slipped past him and gave an apologetic smile as she headed for the door. “Again, I’m very sorry, Mr. Robbins. I meant no harm.”

  Michael watched Heather quickly scurry across the wooden floor as if her life depended on it. As she neared the entrance, a part of him couldn’t help the guilt that washed over him for being so harsh with her. After all, wasn’t it his fault for not informing her to avoid the east wing of the house? Her surprise visit had stirred up unpleasant feelings from the past, feelings of hurt and anger that he had buried for so many years after Carla’s tragedy. How could the poor innocent woman have known? It was part of her womanly nature to be curious, and Carla had been no different. His late wife’s curiosity with life, new adventures, and tastes were what brought excitement into his stale life, and he couldn’t ignore the feeling Heather had some of her same attractive qualities. A sigh of regret escaped his lips as he called out to her.

  “Miss Park . . . Heather, wait ...” He held up his hand. “Wait, don’t go. I’m sorry for being so rude to you.”

  He watched as Heather’s body froze momentarily by the threshold. “I was shocked to see the back door open.” He ran his fingers through his hair as a smile returned to his face. “Please, let me walk you back downstairs.” He moved past her, held the door open, and they walked in awkward silence together down the corridor. He paused at a small painting that had gone unnoticed by Heather during her self-guided tour.

  “Wow, I haven’t seen this ugly thing in a long time.” He smirked as he leaned closer to the canvas.

  Heather studied the painting, noting the simple mix of greens and blues with yellow highlights. “The artist did a great job using thick brush strokes.” She pointed to the right side “This is a perfect example of the impasto technique.” As she moved closer to the dusty painting, her nose began to tingle. Seconds later, she let out a forceful sneeze.

  “I’m sorry.” Heather pressed a finger above her upper lip. “I’m very sensitive to dust.” She gave him a sheepish smile.

  Michael looked at the woman with disheveled hair. Even in her worst moment, she still seemed sexy to him. He looked away, trying to clear his thoughts.

  “Let’s get out of these dusty halls, Miss Parks; I don’t want you suffering from another sneeze attack.” Michael escorted her back into the main hall and stopped for a moment to show off some recent art he had acquired from Italy.

  Heather soaked in every word as if she were going to be tested on his presentation. Even as an art major, she never had the opportunity to see such rare art in person.

  Michael couldn’t help feeling flattered by her undivided attention. He hated to admit it, but he loved the way her face lit up as she leaned in to admire each work. Seeing how passionate she was about his art, he knew there was a last painting he needed to show her. It was something so special, so unique that he knew it would leave her speechless.

  “Would you care to see my Monet?” Michael arched his brows as he watched her pivot around quickly and respond with a simple, “Please.”

  He ushered her down the main hall and stopped outside the double door to his office.

  “You’ll have to forgive the mess behind these doors. I’m very particular about keeping things just as they are. I won’t even allow Reagan in there most of the time because I’m afraid he might disturb something.”

  “I understand. Miss Watson told me this was your special room and that nobody was allowed inside. I’m flattered that you’re allowing me inside.” As he swung the door open, she caught her breath as she gazed at the sitting area where a large granite fireplace with mahogany mantle ran up to the ceiling. Her jaw relaxed as her eyes drifted around the room.

  “You are special, Heather,” he whispered as she walked past him, her eyes glued to the room as if he had hypnotized her.

  He led her into a small chamber to the right where there was a magnificent poster bed the size of a small gazebo that
reminded her of something the French royalty would sleep in. The pillars were colored in gold, and the wooden frame was edged with leaf gold. Heather blushed at the sight of his bed.

  For the first time in her life, she felt embarrassed in front of a man. Not because of the rumpled bed sheet and comforter, but because she knew he slept there. Her automatic shyness kicked in, knowing this was where he spent his nights alone when he was home. Her eyes traveled upward, and that’s when she saw it. "Vivre sans aimer n’est pas proprement vivre."

  “To live without loving is to not really live,” she whispered to herself. She turned to Michael. “Wow, the French really knew how to live. Your bed is so breathtaking and has such rich detail.” Her gaze traveled from the top of the bed to the floor as she admired every intricate detail. Just thinking about how much Michael paid for it made her head spin. Heather slid a hand down one of the pillars before resting it on top of the pillow-like mattress.

  “I love it myself.” The smile on Michael’s face was a dead giveaway of how much he treasured the frame. He had a custom furniture maker in France fashion it after a picture he had seen in a museum. While the sight of the masterpiece gave him a greater appreciation for the luxuries of the French, it did nothing for his insomnia. Michael couldn’t begin to count the number of hours he had spent staring at the carvings on his bed. They were enough that he could almost draw every detail from memory.

  Little did the woman across from him know that he had experienced every imaginable emotion in that bed. It was his safe haven from the outside, a place where he could cry and release the pain he carried inside. There were many times when he yearned to love again, to fill the empty void inside his heart. But he quickly dismissed the thought, telling himself that his heart couldn’t survive another devastating loss or rejection. But something told him there was something irresistibly different about Heather. The woman intrigued him, but he felt threatened by her at the same time.

  Heather’s gaze landed on a large painting on the wall to her left. It consisted of a large tree with golden leaves, and in the distance, you could see a bustling town.

  “That picture is of Arles, France. It was a constant reminder that I needed to stop and enjoy the little things in life.” His eyes focused on Heather. He could see the color rush to her cheeks.

  “What does it remind you of now?” She couldn’t help asking.

  “I really don’t know, Heather. It’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to stop and appreciate the picture.”

  Heather couldn’t help noticing how softly he had spoken her name. The sound of his rounded and rich voice made her feel weak-kneed. She glanced awkwardly at her watch and realized it was almost time for Evelyn’s medication. Miss Watson would also be waiting for Heather to relieve her so she could go help Miss Archer with dinner.

  “I suppose I should be getting back, Michael. It’s almost time for Evelyn’s medication.” She turned to leave. “Thank you so much for taking the time to share this with me. It’s beautiful, and you’re a lucky man to be able to enjoy it.” She gave him a parting smile.

  “I’d be happy to share more of the other artwork with you Heather, if you’d like. Perhaps when you have some time off and you’re not too busy. I’d love to hear your thoughts on some of the other pieces.” His hand gestured toward another wall full of artifacts and paintings. He held the door for her as she passed in front of him.

  Heather gave him one final glance as she walked away. “I would like that very much.”

  Heather made her way back up the grand staircase and paused at the top. Her heart fluttered wildly, but it wasn’t because she was out of shape. It was because of him. She couldn’t understand the uncontrollable feelings of attraction that were beginning to possess her as if he had some magical power to control her mind. Was Michael flirting with her? Or was he simply sharing his passion for art? If he was flirting, she needed to take more drastic measures to chase him away.

  Heather felt confused. For the first time in her life, she felt an irresistible urge to be close with a man, and all he had done was simply give her a tour of his beautiful collection of art. Could it be she was confusing their common passion for the arts for something more? She knew he was still mourning the loss of his wife and dealing with his daughter’s cancer. No, she couldn’t put herself into a situation that could lead to emotional pain and disappointment. She had already experienced enough of it in her lifetime.

  As Heather continued down the hallway, she determined to put some distance between herself and Michael before things got out of hand. If the man couldn’t see that she was the wrong person for him, she needed to take control of the situation before something happened that they would both regret. A plan began to form in Heather’s head as she headed toward Evelyn’s room.

  Chapter 12

  She found Evelyn watching TV when she walked into the room.

  Evelyn’s eyes lit up as her lips turned up into a smile. “Heather, you’re back.” Then her smile faded into a frown. “I know; it’s time to take those awful pills and do therapy.” Her chest sank lower as a sigh escaped her lips.

  “I know it’s not much fun Evelyn, but it will help you to get stronger. I promise.” Heather poured some water into a cup and handed it to Evelyn before propping the pillows on her bed. She repositioned Evelyn back onto the bed for her leg therapy which was done shortly after taking her medication.

  “Sometimes I think these pills are fake, just to make me think I’m getting well. Most of the time, I don’t feel any better, and my hair is still falling out.” Evelyn subconsciously touched the cloth on her head.

  Heather placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. “I know it’s not easy living with cancer. Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better. But trust me, God is there for you, and I’m here for you. Together, we can beat your cancer.” She tried to give Evelyn a reassuring smile.

  “You really think so?” Evelyn looked at her with hopeful eyes.

  “Of course I do. Now let’s take your medicine.”

  After giving the girl her medication, Heather began to work some exercises with Evelyn’s legs. She knew the importance of maintaining Evelyn’s health and how vital it was in helping her recover. When they had finished, Evelyn exhaled loudly as she plopped her legs down on the bed.

  “Whew, I’m pooped.”

  Heather patted her on the arm. “You did a fantastic job. Give it a few more weeks, and you’ll feel a lot stronger.” She glanced at her watch. “Now you can rest a little. Dinner will be in about thirty minutes.”

  A loud knock at the door caught her attention and she watched as Miss Watson stepped into the room.

  “Heather, you can go ahead and take a break before we meet downstairs. Evelyn and I are going to chit chat for a bit before we meet you down there.”

  “I’ll see you both shortly then.” Heather squeezed Evelyn’s hand one last time before making her way down the hall back to her own room. She sat in the chair by the fireplace and gazed at nothing outside her patio door. The Robbins assignment was uniquely different from all the others she had gone on. While her duties were similar, her relationship with the family was not. Evelyn had found a special place in her heart ... and yes, there was Michael and his common passion for the arts. All her previous patients had a special place in her heart, including the grouchy Mrs. Covington.

  But there was something special about the Robbins household. Something that made her feel welcome and safe. A place she could almost call home if it were possible for her to keep a working relationship with Michael. Heather could only wonder what God had in store for her future. Whatever it was, she knew God would take care of her, just like He did when she was younger. Heather bowed her head and said a silent prayer, asking God to reveal his future plans for her.

  Dinner that evening was simple yet elegant. Miss Archer had prepared a fillet of beef with baked potato wedges and a strawberry country cake. Mr. Robbins needed to stay in tow
n for the next few days so the three of them made idle chatter about how hot it would be the next day. Evelyn seemed to be in better spirits and almost finished her plate without coaxing from Heather. Even Miss Watson made a comment on how much better Evelyn’s appetite was. When dinner was finished, Evelyn had Heather come by her room and say goodnight before she went to bed.

  “Remember what you asked me before, Heather?” Evelyn dug her elbow into her pillow as she propped her head against her hand, waiting for Heather to tuck her into bed. She watched as Heather pulled a rocking chair next to her bed. “You asked me about my dreams.”

  “Yes I do. We talked about the dreams you were having during the night. I asked about what you wanted to do in life. Places you wanted to go and visit. Things that you haven’t been able to do, but want to.”

  Heather leaned forward in her chair and watched Evelyn concentrate as she processed her thoughts.

  “I know the answer now, Heather.” Evelyn looked over at her. “I want to have long blonde hair again; I want to be able to put bows in it like I used too. I want to be pretty.”

  Heather could see the longing in her eyes. “That’s a great wish. I’m sure that wish will be granted soon. Anything else?”

  “I want to go to ride a roller coaster, like at the big park where all the kids go. I had a friend in school named Lizzy, who went recently. She said they have huge roller coasters, and even her brother Eli wouldn’t ride on it. Eli is 12. I want to go and show Eli I’m not scared like him.” She giggled and went on, “I also want to ride horses. We have horses here, but I haven’t been able to ride one. Daddy bought me one before I got sick, but I haven’t been strong enough to ride him. And now he’s just sitting out there waiting on me to get better. Yeah, I think it would really make me happy if I could ride him.” Wetness began to form in Evelyn’s eyes.

  “The horse? Is that your biggest wish, Evelyn?” Heather placed the girl’s hand between hers.