Her grumbly train of thought was interrupted by a question from the living room. “Is that Amanda Gardner I hear?”
The fact that Marianne recognized her voice after all these years gave Amanda a warm, fuzzy feeling. She took the cue to step into the doorway and wave. “Hi, Marianne.”
She groaned. “Oh, don’t stand out there in the kitchen. It’s such a mess.”
The sink was stacked with soaking pans and dishes, and a jumble of boots and shoes were piled near the door. Some schoolbooks and a newspaper were strewn across the table, but it really wasn’t all that bad, and she said so.
Marianne’s laughter plainly said she disagreed. “You’re so sweet. Come on in.”
John moved aside and let Amanda go in first. A quick glance at him showed her no emotion on his face at all. She couldn’t tell if he was upset about her calling Ginger out or couldn’t possibly care less. The way things had been going for her lately, it was probably the second choice.
When Marianne saw her, she recoiled with the same shocked reaction John had. Quickly, the expression shifted to the kind a Southern lady plastered on when she disapproved of something but would never dream of saying so.
“Well, just look at you,” Marianne gushed in a motherly tone. “You’re so stylish, you could be on the cover of one of those Hollywood magazines.”
She wasn’t criticizing exactly, but she wasn’t pleased, either. Trying not to take it personally, Amanda changed the focus from herself to Marianne. “That’s nothing compared to what you’ve been up to. A new husband wasn’t enough? You had to go for the jackpot with twins?”
“I know, it’s crazy.” Marianne nodded toward the man sitting in a wing chair beside the bed. “This is my husband, Ridge Collins.”
Standing, he offered his hand. “It’s great to meet you.”
His clothes were covered in dust, and she asked, “Did Ginger interrupt your plowing?”
“Something like that. I don’t think she’s the right one for us,” he added, giving John a very male grin.
“She’s the fifth one we’ve interviewed, and none of them could find their way around a kitchen, much less keep up with the kids. The guys will only get busier over the summer, and I’ve got no idea what we’re going to do,” Marianne confided. “Things are getting out of hand around here, and we really need some help.”
“I could do it.” When they all stared at her, Amanda backtracked. “At least until you find somebody permanent.”
Understandably, Marianne looked confused. “I thought you were in advertising and PR.”
“The company I worked for went out of business, and the market out there is terrible, so I’m moving back here.” Because she didn’t want to get into the humiliating details, she decided to skip over the worst of her recent experience. “I’m not finding a lot of advertising or PR jobs here, either. This could be the solution to both our problems.”
The Collinses traded a long, dubious look, and Amanda held her breath. She could almost hear the wheels spinning in John’s head, but he didn’t say a word. Maybe he’d already guessed why she’d returned to Harland, or maybe he didn’t care. Whatever the reason, she knew her respite wouldn’t last.
If she was around the farm every day, eventually he’d ask her why she’d come limping home in a car that was one step from the crusher. But right now, she kept her attention on her prospective new boss, who was studying her pensively.
“Amanda,” Marianne finally said. “Why on earth would someone with an MBA and a promising career in PR want to be a housekeeper?”
Several answers flashed into her head, all of them very grown-up and responsible sounding. But what came out was, “I’m ready for a fresh start, and Harland seems like the right place to do that. I’ve always loved this farm, and it would be great to work here.”
John grunted. “Funny. After we graduated, you couldn’t wait to get away from it.”
Turning to him, she explained. Again. “I was eighteen and had never been farther than Charlotte. When UCLA offered me that scholarship, I decided it was time to get out into the world and see what I could do.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
His accusing tone sliced through the air with a sharpness that stunned her. It was resentment, she realized with a sinking heart. Resentment she’d caused because in her driving compulsion to leave her roots behind, she’d hurt the sweetest, most solid guy she’d ever known.
“Not very well.” Swallowing a bit of her pride, she included the others in her view. “I’m not exactly Mary Poppins, but I’m a quick learner. If you tell me what you want, I’ll make sure things get done your way. I’ll even work free for a week,” she added to sweeten the deal. She’d picked up that skill during her stint in online PR, and she hoped it would help her now.
Marianne and Ridge exchanged another look, and she could only imagine what they were thinking: Why is she really here?
They didn’t say it out loud, which Amanda really appreciated. As she’d told them, she just wanted a chance to start over. Once she had a steady paycheck, she’d answer all their questions. Even John’s. His wariness toward her wouldn’t make it easy to be around him all the time, but she’d have to cope as best she could. With her nicely toasted car still smoking out on the shoulder, she’d literally reached the end of her road.
The fact that her twisting path had led her back to the Sawyers didn’t escape her. When she was younger, John’s large, loving family had treated Amanda like an extra sibling. Now, Amanda needed Marianne as much as Marianne needed her. If not more.
“We can’t pay much, so we were offering live-in arrangements,” Marianne ventured. “Would you be staying here?”
“Ordinarily I’d say no, but since my car—”
“Broke down out front,” John interjected smoothly. “She’ll have to stay here awhile.”
Amanda snuck a quick glance at him, but couldn’t tell if he liked the idea of her being so close by or not. She didn’t remember his being this difficult to read. Had he changed, or had she lost her touch? Either way, it was a complication she didn’t need, and she resolved to get her own place as quickly as possible.
Cocking an elegant brow, the lady of the house flat-out asked, “John, would Amanda’s working here be a problem for you?”
After enduring so much phoniness in California, Amanda found it refreshing to be around people who came right out and said what was on their minds.
To her relief, he shrugged. “I work all day, then go down to my place, so it wouldn’t matter to me.”
“I won’t be doing much of anything for the next three months,” she reminded him. “That means Amanda would be running the house, including the kitchen. If you want to eat, you’d have to see her at some point.”
“No problem here.” He looked at Amanda. “You?”
“Not for me.” Sensing she was on the verge of getting a “yes,” she pressed. “I could start now, if you want. I’d be happy to do some laundry and cleaning before the kids get home from school.”
“We haven’t discussed your weekly salary.” Ridge named an amount she’d have laughed at six months ago. “Does that work for you?”
“Definitely.” It wasn’t much, but it was significantly more than the $82 currently in her wallet. Besides, Harland was pretty far off the beaten path. Money would stretch a lot farther here than it had in L.A.
After another wordless conference with his wife, Ridge nodded his approval.
“We’ll