The Marriage Wish by Dee Henderson

Author:Dee Henderson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 1998-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Scott quietly pushed the door of the guest room open. It was a little over an hour since he had shown Jennifer to the guest room. She was asleep, as he’d hoped. She had one hand tucked under the pillow, one hand curled under her chin. Her wedding ring was leaving a mark on her face. Scott carefully shifted her hand. He studied her for a few more moments before quietly slipping out of the room.

The grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway was chiming six-thirty as Scott again quietly pushed open the guest room door. She had not stirred in hours. Scott set a single rose down on the bedside table and tucked a note under the stem. Frowning slightly, he paused by her bedside. She was exhausted. But if she slept much longer she would not be able to sleep tonight.

“Jennifer.” He gently shook her shoulder. “Jen, it’s time to wake up.”

“Go away, Jerry,” she murmured, rolling over and taking the quilt with her.

He chuckled. “Jen, it’s Scott. Come on, honey, wake up.”

Her face appeared from beneath the quilt. She blinked at him a couple of times, then groaned. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About four hours,” Scott replied.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. “I’m sorry, Scott. I could have slept at my own place.”

He grinned. “No problem. I like having you here. I laid out fresh towels and a new toothbrush in the guest bathroom if you would like to freshen up. Dinner is in twenty minutes.” He turned toward the door.

“Scott.” He paused by the door and turned to look back. She ran her hand through her hair. “I need to go home. I can’t impose on you any longer.”

He just smiled. “Nonsense. Twenty minutes.” He disappeared out the door.

Jennifer pushed back the quilt and sat on the edge of the bed. There was a single peach rosebud on the end table. “Oh, Scott. It’s beautiful.” She picked up the rose, gently fingering the soft petals. The note lying under the rose was clearly meant for her. She picked it up. “Jen, stay for dinner. Please. Scott.”

The note folded in her hand. “Okay, Scott,” Jennifer whispered quietly. She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs tottered beneath her. “Come on, Jennifer, wake up,” she chided herself.

She found the towels and the toothbrush laid out on the bathroom counter just as Scott had described. Back in the guest bedroom five minutes later, her face washed and her unruly hair pulled back into place, Jennifer quickly straightened the covers on the bed.

Carrying her shoes, Jennifer went downstairs. She dropped the shoes on the rug by the front door. Scott was in the kitchen, humming a tune along with the radio as he tossed a large salad. “Something smells delicious,” Jennifer remarked, pausing in the doorway as she took in the scene.

Scott looked up. He smiled. “Lasagna.” Wiping his hands on a towel, he came over to join her. She looked so much better. Her eyes were clear, she had color back in her face.

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