Jacinda didn’t say what that was.
The day before he was to leave Catherine hadn’t gotten the plants from Josh’s balcony, nor had she heard from him about the results from the mine. So instead of riding home with the women, she gathered her courage and went to Josh’s apartment. He wasn’t there, but the doorman remembered her and let her into the penthouse. The living room was full of boxes, the same boxes she’d helped him open only a short time ago.
She thought of the picture of his father and how he’d come to terms with his inheritance. It no longer seemed important to him if the mine paid off or not except for the others. For himself he’d found something more valuable—his father’s memory.
She sat in the dark on the floor of the balcony, her body trembling, waiting for him. She was trying to decide what to say. She held her hands up to her eyes to block out the peripheral light so she could locate Scorpio, the constellation that had gotten her into this situation in the first place.
She pictured herself on the farm where she’d grown up, but the outlines of the house and the fields were just as fuzzy as the outline of Scorpio. It had been almost two years since she’d left the land of her birth. Long enough to grieve over the lost land and her lost heritage. Josh had learned to put his loss behind him and move on. Wasn’t it time she did the same?
The front door opened. Josh stumbled on a box in the dark and swore. She jumped to her feet. The door swung closed behind him. She waited while his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, wiping her damp palms against her skirt.
“I didn’t know anyone was here,” he said after a pause.
“The doorman let me in. I didn’t want you to leave without ...” All of a sudden her nerve deserted her and she faltered.
He crossed the room and joined her on the balcony. “Without saying goodbye. Of course. I meant to come by the market, but they had a surprise party after work. Then it was too late. I thought you’d have left.”
His voice was cool and reserved. How could he talk to her that way if he really loved her?
She looked around at the bare walls, at the hallway to the bedroom, toward the kitchen. “I’ve missed you,” she said, the pain rising in her chest. “I’ve missed this place.”
He stared at her. “I thought you hated this place.”
“I thought I did, too. But I discovered I’d rather live in the city with you than anywhere else without you.”
“Even Boston?” he asked incredulously, afraid to believe his ears.
She felt her lips curve into a smile. She hadn’t smiled much since she’d left this place weeks ago. “Even Boston.”
He put his arms around her and held her tightly. “Is that a proposal?”
She slid her arms around his neck. “I know I’m supposed to wait until you ask my parents for my hand, but I’m an American, and American women sometimes take matters into their own hands.”
“Thank God,” he muttered against her ear.
“I’m not free for three months, though. Until then I belong to the Peace Corps.”
He pulled back to see happiness spilling from her dark eyes. If she didn’t have three ribs still mending, he would have crushed her to him and swung her around the living room.
“I’ll need three months to find a place for us to live, someplace with a field or an orchard that’s within commuting distance to the city,” he said.
She pressed her hands together, unable to resist the tidal wave of joy that threatened to engulf her. All this and green grass, too.
“Josh,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. I meant what I said. I’ll live anywhere with you. I came here to teach people how to farm. But I learned much more—how to let go of what’s gone, and how to love. You can’t take all the credit,” she said, taking his face in her hands. “Just most of it.” She brought his mouth down to hers and gave him the most profound kiss he’d ever had.
Moments later he broke away and looked down at her. “If you were completely well...” he said shakily.
“I’ve never felt better in my life,” she assured him.
He lifted her into his arms. “Are you trying to get me to take you back to that bed in there?” His eyes were smoky blue.
“Mmm,” she answered, lowering her