“I had a wife,” Duncan said carefully, “but she wasn’t one for family.”
“Then you need a new one, man, and soon. You’re not getting any younger.”
“I have a good life,” he said, “and work I care about”
“Ach,” said the bartender with a look of disgust. “Work cannot warm your bed at night.”
“A hot water bottle can warm my bed more efficiently,” Duncan said. “What need do I have for a wife?”
The man waggled a finger in Duncan’s direction. “You joke now, lad, but in twenty years you’ll be wishing you’d listened to Gordon. I thought like you once. Thirty years I lived without my Celia, and happily, but from that first day I knew there was no life without her.”
“Love at first sight? You must be reading women’s books, old man.”
Gordon ignored the remark. “She walked into the pub with her brother and ordered a cup of tea. ‘And would you like whiskey with that?’ I asked, and she gave me one of those looks that the lasses give and my heart was no longer mine.” His expression softened with the memory. “We were wed three months later.”
“A nice story,” Duncan said, “but it has nothing to do with me.”
“You have the look of one who’s seen the light.”
“I’ve the look of one who wants to eat his meal.”
“And I’ll leave you to it,” said Gordon, rising to his feet. “You may be right at that, laddie. Some men are best left on their own.”
Duncan ate the rest of his meal in silence. The pub was filled with people old and young, all of them happy and laughing and glad to be out and about on an evening in early summer.
They were all couples, he realized, looking about. Two by two like the animals on Noah’s ark. He was the only one who sat alone and he wondered if it would always be that way.
The stout turned to sludge in his mouth and he tossed down his money and left the pub.
Houston
THE REALTOR had told Sam that the two-story town house would be a great investment. “Four percent per year, guaranteed,” he’d coaxed before she decided to sign on the bottom line. “A little paint, some curtains, it’ll be just like home.”
That was three years ago. New paint and curtains had prettied up the place, but she was still waiting for it to feel like home.
She slipped on her bathrobe then padded downstairs to make a late supper. She’d stayed at the office until nearly nine o’clock, reworking facts and figures, delaying the moment when she entered the quiet apartment and closed the door behind her. Had it always been so deadly quiet in there or was she listening with new ears?
She switched on the tiny television set that was suspended beneath one of the kitchen cabinets. Seinfeld was on. She listened absently to their banter while she made herself a bowl of cereal for dinner.
She’d planned to bring home Chinese food but the thought of that explosion of flavor made her queasy and she’d opted for cornflakes instead. In point of fact, she seemed to be queasy a lot lately. All sorts of things turned her stomach inside out—the smell of fresh paint, bacon sizzling, fountain pen ink. Actually she hadn’t been right since she had the flu the week before leaving for Scotland.
She ate her cornflakes at the kitchen table while checking her To Do list. Martie’s surprise bridal shower was tomorrow, and Sam had easily sixty high priority items lined up and ready to go.
“I wish you’d bring someone with you, Sammy,” her sister had said to her when she finalized the guest list. “What about Judd Simon? He seems like a nice man.”
“Will you stop?” she’d pleaded with Martie. “If I wanted to bring someone to the wedding, I would, but I don’t. I’ll sit with Cousin Will during the reception.” Will was a groomsman and would be her partner during the recessional.
“Will’s bringing a date,” Martie said. “You’ll be the only one there without one.”
“Maybe it’ll start a new trend,” Sam said. “And, for your information, Estelle never brings a date anywhere.”
“She is this time,” Martie said smugly. “Deno Accardi from Accounting.”
It was well-known around Wilde & Daughters Ltd. that Estelle Ross was head-over-heels in love with Lucky. Estelle had worshipped the ground he walked on for as long as Sam could remember.
“I can’t believe she’d bring a date when she could just grab a ride with Daddy.” They’d be spending most of their time together, as always.
“I think she’s trying to make him jealous,” Martie said. “Maybe that will wake him up.”
Sam had said nothing. Romantic strategy had always baffled her. Given his marital track record, why on earth would anyone want Lucky to try again? The odds were certainly against a happy ending.
But then why would her sister be so willing to leap into marriage? Martie and Trask had been separated for ten long years, the years that took Martie from girl to woman. Trask came back into her life and bam! One month later and they’re walking down the aisle.
Martie and Trask were different people now, Sam thought. Adults with histories and needs and expectations. It was like marrying a stranger, and yet Martie glowed with a happiness and contentment that baffled Sam. Where did her sister get the optimism, the courage, to join her life with Trask’s when she barely knew him? Certainly she didn’t know the man he was now.
And yet it didn’t seem to matter. When the heart told you it was right, all the cool logic in the world didn’t stand a chance.
Her little sister understood that. Why couldn’t Sam?
Chapter 4
Scotland
Old Mag stormed into Duncan’s studio on the first morning of July.
He was standing by the window, nursing a tumbler of whiskey, when he heard the sound of her leather slippers against the tile floor.
“’Tis a crime the way you’re behavin’,” she railed in a tone of voice that dared him to argue. “Have you lost
