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“I know you’re right, but I’m sick and tired of setbacks and struggles. I tried so hard not to die from that wreck. I finally get my life back together and find you, and nowthis. I’ve been fighting to survive all my life, and I’m fed up with the war.”
Sean immediately pulled over onto the side of the road and reached for her hand.
“Look at me.”
She sighed, and then turned to face him.
“Amalie, sweetheart…you’re not alone in this anymore. I’m not a passing fancy. I’m not just the little kid who had a crush. I know the value of who you are and treasure your acceptance of me. Whatever is happening to you is happening to me. And whatever happens to me affects no less than a couple of hundred people you have yet to meet who already have my back. You aren’t alone anymore. You will never be alone again.”
Amalie wanted to hide. To crawl into a closet somewhere like she used to when she was a kid, and wait until all the fighting was over, but that couldn’t happen. And she wasn’t going to cry and then walk into Shirley Pope’s house in a defeated frame of mind, but words were only words. There was a difference between a pep talk and action, and she needed confirmation like she needed air to breathe.
“So, Sean Pope, is this a promise or a proposal?”
He grinned. “Can’t it be both?”
“Only if you seal it with a kiss,” she said, then leaned forward and closed her eyes.
The last glimpse he had of her face before the kiss was the flutter of her lashes. Her lips were soft and warm, yielding to his arrival, weathering the shock of energy between them, and then it was done.
“Are we good now?” he whispered.
“So good,” Amalie said.
He put the car in gear and continued up the road, still unaware they were being followed.
Chapter 13
It was a little after 10:00 a.m. when they drove up to the house and got out. The shift in temperature was notable, but it was always colder at this elevation.
“Let’s do this,” Sean said. Then they went up the steps together.
Shirley met them at the door. “Come in, come in!” she said, and shut the door as they shed their coats. “I’m in the kitchen, of course. Come sit with me a bit while I get this cake in the oven. I want to hear all about how the open house went after we left.”
They followed, then Amalie sat, her hands folded in her lap to keep them from trembling, and watched what Shirley was doing.
“What kind of cake?” Amalie asked.
“It’s a Mexican sheet cake. Basically, it’s a chocolate sheet cake with a good dose of cinnamon in the batter. It’s one of those cakes that’s even better the second day,” Shirley said.
“It’s killer good, regardless,” Sean said. “Mom’s been making this for years, but we rarely have any left the next day.”
“With six mouths to feed, that was the case with everything I made,” Shirley said.
“So, what are you going to do with all this cake?” Sean asked.
“Marcus is coming to supper tonight,” Shirley said.
Sean heard the too-casual note in his mother’s voice, but didn’t acknowledge it, and explained the relationship to Amalie instead.
“Marcus Glass and Mom grew up together. He married one of your cousins, right, Mom?”
Shirley nodded, as she began pouring the batter into the sheet pan. “Yes, Gloria Pope. Gloria passed away from cancer some years back. His granddaughter, Lili, was one of the children injured from the chopper crash.”
“Such a horrifying experience for all of them,” Amalie said.
“It was,” Shirley said, adding, “Sean, open the oven door for me, please.” When he did, she slid the pan into the oven, shut the door, and set the timer, then put the batter bowl in the sink to soak. “Now we can talk. The open house! Did you continue to have visitors throughout the day?”
“Yes, a fairly steady stream of them,” Amalie said. “I also gained my first clients. I have appointments with them throughout the coming week.”
