Evelyn followed her into her office and worked at the spit up stain with a wet nap while Padma unloaded the boxes from the stroller. Magnus kicked his chubby little legs and squealed with happiness every time she leaned over him. Just like a man.
“I think Herb has a bit of a crush on you,” Padma said, stacking the last of the boxes on her desk. “We saw you come in and his eyes lit up.”
Evelyn groaned. Dating Herb would be the perfect opportunity to get back on the horse, but after one business dinner that had strayed dangerously close into personal territory, she knew she couldn’t do it. Maybe when Magnus was in high school or something. Or she would just die alone. Padma was looking at her expectantly, eager for some good gossip, but Evelyn abruptly changed the subject.
“How’s that hot drummer of yours?” she asked, casting around for his name. She’d gone from having pregnancy brain to new mom brain and she couldn’t for the life of her remember it.
Padma made a face. “Ed’s fine. He’s in London,” she said rather forcefully, scrunching up her face even more. To Evelyn’s dismay, Padma burst into tears. “He’s a bit of a selfish jerk, actually. I’m hosting the museum society luncheon this weekend and he promised to be here for it.”
“And he’s not coming?”
She sniffled. “No. I guess he thinks it’s more important to open for the Pork Rinds, or whatever they’re called.”
“Wait, do you mean the Porcupines?” Evelyn asked, impressed. Ed’s band must have been getting more popular. “They’re really huge right now. That probably is more important. For his band, I mean.”
“I don’t know. I guess. I don’t even really listen to Ed’s music.” She shrugged. “I’m more into chamber music.”
Evelyn tried not to make any noises that could be construed as unsupportive. “Maybe it’s not meant to be with you two,” she said. “It’s important to have the same interests.” Her throat closed up after the words were out and to her horror, she started to cry along with Padma.
Thankfully, Padma didn’t try to hug her or offer any advice, not that she could have, being in the same sad boat. They stood there grimly weeping until Padma wiped her tears away, her makeup as perfect as ever and not even the least bit smudged.
“Aren’t we a pair,” she sighed.
Evelyn nodded, scrubbing at her face with another wet nap, sure that any previous semblance of cuteness was now completely gone. She wheeled the stroller around and Padma walked her out of the office.
A glimpse of dark red plaid in the middle of the gallery made her catch her breath, thinking for a heart stopping moment that Lachlan had returned. But it was just Archebald Bancroft, the leader of a group of hardcore historical re-enactors who restored a ruined crofter’s cottage and camped out in the woods, living life as if it were the eighteenth century. He looked every bit the Scottish Highlander in his kilt, leather sporran and sword strapped to his side. The tourists ate it up and a few gathered around him to have their pictures taken.
“Ugh,” Padma said under her breath. “Can he never wear normal clothes?”
“I wouldn’t mind getting a glimpse under his kilt,” Evelyn said, grinning at Padma’s scandalized look.
“He’s just going to torture me,” she said. “He comes in all the time, wanting to borrow something or show me broken pieces of whatever they’ve dug up out there in the forest.” She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Bugger it, I forgot he’s speaking at the luncheon this weekend. I was supposed to give him a list of the people who’ll be there.” She smoothed down her already completely smooth sweater and tossed her glossy hair over her shoulder. “He’s actually quite good at getting donations,” she said, walking up to Archie with her smile at full wattage.
Evelyn maneuvered the stroller back through the gallery and headed toward Maison Craig, where she knew Sam would be waiting for her. She found herself dragging her feet and stopped to stare aimlessly into the window of the apothecary, about to go in and stock up on shampoo and vitamins, anything to delay seeing Sam.
Magnus made a disgruntled sound and she peered over the top to make sure he was all right. He looked up at her with his wise old man face, his green eyes nearly identical in shade to Sam’s.
“You’re right. Mummy’s being an idiot,” she said, leaning over to straighten his blanket.
She made the rash decision in her mind to accept Piper’s many offers of a salary and get her own place to live.
Read, be friends, take care of Mags. It wasn’t possible. There was no way they could ever be normal. Even if she reconciled herself to dying alone, eventually Sam would want to date again, and it would kill her. Kill her dead. If he actually married someone, would she continue to hide away in a spare bedroom with Mags? She nearly had to lean over and grip her knees at that thought, it shook her so badly. She didn’t care if she was being ridiculous, she would rather take a fork in the eye than see Sam with another woman. The only answer was to get her own life. Feeling like a dark cloud floated over her, she forced herself the rest of the way to the restaurant, which was still closed before the dinner shift.
Sam and Leo were deep in conversation when she pushed the door open, and her resolution started to dissolve when Sam smiled so sweetly at them. Okay, new plan. Forgive everything and live happily ever after. Yeah, right. Get a grip, Merkholtz.
He took Magnus out of the the stroller, careful to support his head, and showed him off to Leo, who was one of his many godfathers.
“Ah, there’s the handsome wee bastard,” Leo boomed, probably deafening him.
She gritted her teeth in what she hoped passed for a smile. Leo was a nice man, but he was brash and loud and that particular joke of his had gone stale.
“Don’t make me blacken your eye,” Sam said in a gentle singsong voice as he handed over the baby.
Evelyn held her breath, but Leo was remarkably capable, and held Magnus not only properly, but confidently.
“Ah, I see you’re astonished,” he said. “I happen to quite like babies.”
She waited for him to comment on how tender they were in a stew or something else unfunny, but he just propped up Magnus against his shoulder and patted his back, murmuring Gaelic to him.
“Aye, it was just a short time ago she let me out of her sight with him,” Sam teased, taking her arm and leading her a few steps away from the table. She kept her eyes trained on Mags until he squeezed her upper arm and she looked at him. His face had an unreadable expression and his eyes were bright and expectant. “I’m going to leave the shop early today. You’ll be home for dinner?” he asked. “I’ll make lasagna.”
It was like a punch, his kindness. She felt her face smile without her permission, but then remembered she had to sign all those papers and go over some estate nonsense that evening.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “But I’ll be staying late at Piper’s. Herb’s going to be there and we have to go over some things.” His face went flat at her words. “I could skip dinner, and we could eat late,” she offered, foolishly wanting him to smile at her again.
“No, that’s fine,” he said.
Why did he sound so cold all of a sudden? Couldn’t he just put the lasagna in a bit later? She glanced at her watch. Piper wouldn’t care what time she got there. “Do you want to grab some lunch right now?” she asked.
He shrugged, his eyes no longer bright. “I just ate,” he said in a clipped tone. “I’ll see you whenever you get back to the house.”
He turned and went back to the table, reaching out for Magnus. She wanted to go and kiss the baby goodbye but she felt like Sam had dropped a malevolent force field around him and she couldn’t get close. And she definitely didn’t miss that he said ‘the house’ instead of home. She turned and left just as the damn tears started up again.
Chapter 5
Sam managed to talk himself out of his mad jealousy while stocking the shelves with the latest shipment of touristy gewgaws that helped keep his little book shop in busin
ess. He’d kept up a low monotone to Magnus, and his son had mostly stared at him like he was a stupid prat until he realized he probably was one.
It was completely mental to worry about Evelyn and Herb. She had been in charge of a massive estate for eight months. He himself had seen what she’d gone through to keep everyone thinking Piper was still alive. The travel, the meetings, she’d been on the phone twenty hours of the day most days, and all that while pregnant and eaten alive with worry for her best friend. He should be grateful to Herb for helping her during that time, not wanting to knock the man’s teeth out.
“You’re absolutely right, Mags,” he said, leaning back to inspect the display of tiny marble busts of William Wallace and Bonny Prince Charlie he’d set up next to a shelf of wooden quaichs. God but he wished people would just buy books. “I’m still going to talk to your mum. Just as soon as she gets home from work tonight.”
That had been earlier. His positive attitude lasted through bath time and story time, then started to fade soon after he had Magnus tucked up in his crib. And he’d still made the lasagna, using spinach and bloody low fat cheese the way she liked. The oven timer dinged at eight, and she still wasn’t home, so he covered the casserole with foil and poured himself a glass of wine and sat at the table, his mood going further south with every tick of the old wall clock. At nine o’clock he peeked under the foil to find the cheese good and congealed, so he put it in the fridge and switched to whiskey, his imagination running wild. That ruthless git Herb was probably … he honestly didn’t know what Herb might be up to with Piper being there as well, but he wouldn’t put anything past that wily bastard.
When she came quietly through the front door at half past ten, she had the nerve to look surprised to see him sitting sullenly in the kitchen, empty glass near to hand. And she had the nerve to smile at him as if she were glad he was still up.
“Hey,” she said, putting down her bags. She looked tired, completely worn out, and a part of him wanted to push her into the nearest chair and start massaging her shoulders. “Is everything all right?” She glanced nervously in the direction of the bedroom and made to go check on Magnus. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.”
“Everything’s fine,” he said, more gruffly than he meant. He could still rein it in. He could talk to her while he rubbed her shoulders. He took a deep breath.
She reached up and gathered all her beautiful red hair into a pile on top of her head and tried rolling the kinks out of her neck. “God, I couldn’t get away. Piper’s a mess and Herb wouldn’t stop carrying on about numbers. He just went on and on.”
She probably didn’t actually have a dreamy expression on her face when she said the last bit, but when he heard that man’s name cross her lips, the very lips he wanted to kiss right that second, he lost the last shred of his reason.
“I’m going out,” he said, brushing past her, ignoring the sudden look of confusion on her face.
When he was outside, safe from acting any more the fool, he set out on foot toward the town square. The brisk walk in the bracing night air sobered him up, but didn’t shake any sense back into him. He was as angry and disillusioned as ever. He was an educated, modern, sensitive man, damn it. That was his thing. But all he wanted to do was break something, specifically something attached to Herb.
He saw that the lights were still on in the back of Maison Craig and he pounded on the door until Leo let him in, a scowl on his face.
“What in the hell, mate?”
“I didn’t talk to her,” Sam said, noticing Padma was sitting in the far corner of the restaurant with a bottle of whiskey in front of her. “Nice,” he muttered, heading for the table. He sat down and poured himself a healthy portion.
Leo settled in and stared at them both. “Pathetic,” he said. “The three of us moping this way.”
“Are you moping as well?” Sam asked Padma, wondering what was wrong. She seemed to live the most charmed life of anyone he knew.
She nodded and downed a shot. “Ed and I had a fight over the phone. He won’t come up for the weekend. I may dump him. You?”
“Same as ever,” Sam said. “Mother of my child in love with another man.”
“Oh, she is not,” Leo interjected. “Don’t be overly dramatic. At least you two have people to be dramatic about. I’ve no one even to fight with.”
“Why is that?” Padma asked, wrinkling up her face. “You’re good enough looking and have a decent job. How is it you’re all alone?”
Sam snorted into his glass and dodged Leo’s poorly aimed swipe. “Even Knickers Marley won’t have him.”
“Ah, that’s really sad,” Padma said, frowning at Sam for continuing to laugh. “If you’ve struck out with Knickers, there isn’t much hope for you.”
Leo treated them to a string of rude epithets as he reached around the bar for a fresh bottle. “Bugger the both of you,” he said. “But that’s part of the problem. Going out with people we’ve known since they picked up names like Knickers in primary school. If you didn’t go to London every month you’d have never met Ed, and Sam’s just lucky he got his American pregnant so she’d come back to this forsaken corner of the earth.”
Sam would have taken umbrage over that comment, but at the moment it seemed true, though he didn’t feel especially lucky just then. He merely nodded and refilled his glass.
“We need more outsiders,” Padma said. “There’s more tourists now but nobody stays long enough to get to know.” She took another drink and focused blearily on Leo. “You need to give week long cooking retreats. Don’t you have some Michelin stars?”
“Just two,” Leo said modestly.
“And you,” she rounded on Sam. “Organize some more poetry festivals.” She leaned back in her chair and pouted. “I don’t know why I’m giving you ideas to have this place crawling with women. You two need to find a way to get some quality blokes up here. All we have now are those mad historical re-enactors.”
Sam sat back in his chair and nursed his drink while he watched his two oldest friends bandy about ideas for getting people to stay in the village long enough to ask out on a date. Some of the ideas were quite good. An uncomfortable thought began to writhe around in his brain as he listened to them.
How would Evelyn feel if she knew he was having drinks with Padma right now? From the beginning she’d had insecurities where Padma was concerned. In fact, she’d been downright jealous of her, insisting that Padma was in love with him. There might have been a time when she had a momentary, ill-advised crush on him, but that just went to show how limited their choices were here. He highly doubted he and Padma would have ever ended up together, even if Evelyn hadn’t dropped into his life, like the Texas angel that she was.
He shook his head, trying to sort his thoughts. Was he worried about Evelyn’s feelings getting hurt? So what if she knew who he was having drinks with? Hadn’t she spent the entire evening with Herb? He took a large swallow of his whiskey and the alcohol burned through his cobwebs and gave him back his clarity. It was nearly impossible to believe he’d even ended up here, getting drunk, when he’d meant to patch up his love life. Jesus, but he was an idiot.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” Padma said. “Haven’t you got any ideas?”
“No,” Sam said, downing the last of his drink and unsteadily finding his feet. “I’m happy to help get people for the town, but Evelyn’s the only one for me.” He waved off their pitying looks and shook his head at Leo’s offer of another whiskey. “I’m going home,” he said, rooted to the spot and finding it difficult to focus.
Leo chuckled and got up to push him in the direction of the door. “Don’t fall into the river on your way,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
Outside, Sam breathed in the still night air. It was cold and the stars were out in force. He loved nights like this. If he wasn’t falling down drunk, he’d build a fire and sit outside and enjoy it. After a few shambling steps in the direction he felt confident was his h
ome, he fumbled out his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Piper answered, her voice tight with alarm.
“Nothing,” he said, then looked at the phone, wondering why he’d called his ex girlfriend’s best friend.
“You do know what time it is, right Sam?” she asked, and now she sounded patronizing, as if she suspected he was drunk. God, women.
“Ah, yes, of course,” he said, happily remembering why he called her in the first place. “I’m sorry if I woke you, but Evelyn says you never sleep anymore.”
“Well, being possessed by one’s evil ancestor will do that to one,” she said, followed by silence, in which he felt guilty and then thought she might have hung up. “What do you need?” she finally asked on a long suffering sigh.
“Can you fire Herb?” he asked, ashamed at his pathetic tone. Too late to man up his request, though.
“Fire Herb?” she asked. “I kind of need him. And he knows all our secrets. The big ones,” she said with emphasis.
Of course he did. Of course he was too important to get rid of. People who got lost in time travel adventures for months on end probably thought it was pretty convenient to have a high powered solicitor on their side. He kicked at what he thought was a rock, which turned out to be a crouching grey cat. Thankfully he missed and the animal ran off, scaring the hell out of him. “But I think he’s making a move on Evelyn,” he said, too tired and drunk to tell her anything else. He pressed the phone to his ear and heard her sigh again.
“You know how much I want you two back together. In fact, right this very minute I’m online ordering a t-shirt that says Team Sam on it. But I can’t fire my lawyer.”
“That’s really unkind, Piper.”
A car pulled up next to him and Evelyn leaned over to shove open the passenger door. His darling son was asleep in his car seat in the back. He quickly ended the call and stood there gaping, wondering what was going on. Had he wished for them to show up?
Sam and Evie - A Lost Highlander Novella Page 3