January
Long hours with the hairstylist and makeup artist transformed her into Esther Kingsley, daughter of a Loyalist upcountry man.
Jeremiah had rented a large, old estate for the Kingsley home. Coming down the stairs for her first scene, she imagined the real Esther, whatever her station in life, might have dwelled in something similar.
She wore a blue dress with a cream-colored scarf tucked around the scoop neckline and black buckle shoes. The stylist fixed Chloe’s real hair—she had plenty of it—into an array of tightly coiled drop curls.
Heading into the dining room, running lines in her head for the first scene, Chloe bumped into Jesse dressed as Flanders in fringed buckskin and knee-high moccasins.
“Oh—” She lost a bit of her breath. “Hello.”
Since the night on the lanai, they’d become friends. Good friends. When he departed for his Christmas holiday, she missed him. And now that he stood in front of her, she trembled.
“I wondered when I’d see you,” he said, smiling, tempting her to kiss him. Just... kiss him!
How many times had she gazed toward the guesthouse hoping to see him?Surprise, I came back!She was such a sucker for the unexpected, for romantic gestures.
When he called on Christmas Eve, she lay on the floor under the family Christmas tree, her new slippers—Mom always gave the family slippers on Christmas Eve—dangling from her toes as Bing Crosby crooned in the background. They talked and talked and talked until the first hour of her California Christmas morning.
He’d framed the original Hamilton Lightfoot letter and given it to his parents that night. His mom cried and his dad choked up. They loved it. Best gift they’d ever received.
“You’re welcome,” Chloe had said. “I told you.”
“I owe you one.”
But the distance also gave her time to think, consider their relationship, and raise her guard. Which seemed to crumble at the sight of him.
But he’d made no indication he wanted anything more than friendship. After hearing Loxley’s story, she didn’t blame him.
After telling him her story about Haden, shestilldidn’t blame him. They both sat on the edge of caution.
“Wow,” he said. “You look like Esther. At least how I pictured her.” He touched the edge of her curls. “Is that your hair?”
“Yeah. Michele said she’d rather style my hair than a wig.”
Jesse drew her into a hug, setting his cheek against her hair-sprayed head. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
She inhaled the scent of his buckskin and the fragrance of the man beneath. “Me too.”
Oh, this was not good. She was falling... in love. Once again,her girlish romantic notions steered her toward trouble. Leaping. Sinking at the mere sight of him. Captured by a mere smile.
With a deep breath, Chloe pushed out of his arms.
“H-how was Boston?” Why did he have to look so... so good? Manly. He’d grown out his hair for the part and wore it loose about his neck, looking very much like an eighteenth-century backwoods man.
“Boston was good. Cold. Snowy.” His posture of leaning against the doorjamb with folded arms and squared shoulders brought to mind every hero she’d imagined as a girl.
“Did you see Loxley’s parents?”
“I tried. Wanted to take the scholarship money over, but they were out of town. Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Give them time.”
“It’s been eight years. I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me, and I don’t blame them.”
Since their lanai confessions, he had brought up the incident at least two more times, revealing a part of himself she’d not seen before. Chloe’s friendly affection for him grew with her admiration.
“All you can do is ask.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m working on forgiving myself. Letting go. You do the same. Come on, Jesse, we’re on the set ofyourmovie.” She threw her hands in the air. “Woo-hoo!”
