by Sarah Morgan
“That makes no sense.”
“To a writer, it would make perfect sense. Not all writing involves tapping keys on a laptop. I call this thinking time. I walk and pretend it’s work. In this case, I came looking for you. And I hate to ask the obvious question, but why are you talking to a chicken?”
“This isn’t any chicken. It’s Martha.” She scrambled to her feet, self-conscious. Being this intimate with someone was new to her. She didn’t know what their relationship was, or how she felt. She didn’t know how he felt. Was she a way of passing the time until he left? Or was there something more going on? She was so unsophisticated it was embarrassing. Maybe she should talk to Hannah and get some advice on how to handle casual relationships. “I’ve been thinking through what I’m going to do about that thing we talked about.”
“You mean my trip to Denali?”
“Yes. I thought if I talked it through out loud, it might help me make a decision. Martha is an excellent audience because she doesn’t interrupt, nor does she assume she already knows everything there is to know about me. Also, it’s useful to rehearse what I’m going to say to my mother later.”
He probably thought she was crazy. He was sleeping with someone who talked to chickens.
“Why do you need to rehearse?”
“The fact that you have to ask me that tells me you don’t know my family well. Several times over the past few weeks I’ve tried to drop hints to people that I may be interested in a life beyond this valley, but no one listens. They assume they already know what I want, so yes, I need to rehearse. I need to be firm, so that people don’t dismiss what I’m saying. I need people to see me as I really am, not the way they think I am. Although I think I’m guilty of doing that, too...” She frowned as she thought about Hannah. “When you know someone well, it’s hard to see them differently.”
Luke dug his hands into his pockets. “Did Martha have any advice for you? Or did she think the situation was a question of chicken and egg?”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No. I’m laughing at you in a kind and gentle fashion.”
“Yeah? Because it sounded a lot like mocking.”
His smile faded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”
She felt her heart thud. “You’re part of the problem.”
“How so?”
“Until I met you, I’d only ever vaguely thought about leaving. I wasn’t serious about it. It was a niggle that I was easily able to ignore. And then you appeared and...and...you gave me a reason to leave. You dangled this glittering diamond in front of me—”
His eyes narrowed. “Diamond?”
She flushed. Stupid, Posy. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Not the sort of diamond you wear. The sort you dream about. The sort you covet. I’m talking about the trip. Denali...”
“You don’t covet a real diamond?”
Was he teasing her? She didn’t even know. “Can we change the subject before I make a total idiot of myself?”
“You’re not making an idiot of yourself. Why would you think that?”
“Because I’m no good at this!” She raised her voice and Martha gave a startled squawk. “When it comes to relationships, I’m pretty much a beginner.”
He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Really? I wouldn’t have said that.”
She met his gaze. “That’s physical. I’m good at physical stuff—I’m naturally athletic—”
“I’d noticed.”
“I’m talking about the other stuff. The emotional side of things. I haven’t got what you might call a ton of experience. Sex is the easy part. That’s not complicated. It’s like climbing an ice wall. You do what you do, but the rest of it—” she breathed “—that’s complicated. I don’t know where this is going, or how you feel about leaving, or how I feel about you leaving, or how I feel about me leaving or what this means, or—” She broke off with a gasp as he tugged her against him and kissed her.
He kissed her until her nerve endings sizzled, her heart was pumping and her thoughts were more tangled than they’d been at the beginning.
When he finally released her, she looked at him dizzily. “I don’t know why you did that, and I’m not sure it helped.”
“I did it because I knew it would feel good.”
“I suppose you think you’re cute.”
“I’m a man. That kiss reduced my abilities to think about anything that didn’t involve being naked with you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You seem to have a lot going on in your head. Instead of talking to Martha, you really should talk to me.”
She wasn’t sure she was ready to do that.
“I’ll think about it.” Posy bent and stroked Martha’s thick feathers. “Thanks for listening, my little feathered friend.”
She checked the other chickens and walked to the door, her feet rustling though the thick layer of straw.
Luke closed his hands over her shoulders. “Posy—”
“What?” She found his gaze unsettling and she was already unsettled enough for one lifetime.
“Nothing. Never mind.” He released her. “There are a million things I want to say, but a henhouse isn’t the place to say them and I’m worried about the impact on Martha.”
Posy secured the door and followed Luke out to the path that ran between the barn and the lodge.
“I should go.” She felt awkward suddenly. “I have a million things to do in the house, and I want to check on Mom. I want to make sure she’s eating properly. She wants you to join us for dinner tomorrow, by the way. It will be the first family dinner we’ve had since everyone came home, because Mom was in bed to start with and then didn’t want to infect anyone, so she mostly stayed in her room. Will you come?”
“If it’s a family dinner, are you sure I’ll be welcome?”
“She specifically asked me to invite you. She likes you.” She saw his hesitation and wondered if she’d put him in an awkward position. “You can relax. It’s not ‘meet the parents’ or anything.”
“I’ve already met your parents.”
“I know, but I saw you hesitate. You definitely hesitated.”
“The reason I hesitated has nothing to do with you and me.” He paused again. “Is your mother better?”
That was why he’d hesitated? Because he was concerned for her mother? “She’s better, thanks. And she won’t have to do anything. My sisters and I will cook, although I haven’t broken that news to them yet.”
“In that case I’ll be there. Thank you.” He glanced back at the barn. “Much as I’d rather procrastinate, I need to finish my draft. I’ll see you later.”
He walked away, leaving her none the wiser about her feelings or his.
In a few months his book would be finished and he’d leave. She could watch him go, or she could leave with him.
She thought about it as she walked back to the lodge and carried on thinking about it as she heated soup and took it up to her mother.
As she walked past the bathroom, she could hear the shower running and sounds of someone being sick. Hannah’s bedroom door was open, so presumably she was the one using the bathroom.
Posy felt a flash of anxiety and paused outside the door. She wanted to offer support but wasn’t sure if her sister would want it. She remembered Hannah holding Beth’s hair back after her first experience of alcohol, but that wasn’t the same thing, was it?
Balancing the tray of food on one hand, she tapped on the door with the other, but there was no answer.
Singing Christmas carols to cover the sound of Hannah being sick, she elbowed her way into her parents’ bedroom. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, thank you, although if you’re going to carry on singing, that might not last long.” Suzanne was sitting up, her knitting on her lap. “Is someone being sick?”
“No. It’s the shower.
” Posy nudged the door closed with her hip. If Hannah wanted to tell Suzanne, then that was up to her, but she wasn’t going to hear it from Posy. “You’re not as pale. That’s good.”
“You, on the other hand, look exhausted. Have you been running around after your sisters?”
“No. They’re helping out.”
“Even Hannah?”
“Especially Hannah, and here’s the proof.” Posy settled the tray on her mother’s lap. “Roasted tomato and red pepper soup. Hannah made it for you.”
“I didn’t know she could cook.”
“It came as a shock to her, too.” Posy wondered what her mother was going to say when she found out Hannah was pregnant. To the best of her knowledge, she was the only one who knew, which increased her feeling of responsibility. She wasn’t sure she was being much help. “Can I borrow your water jug? While Hannah’s in the shower, I’m going to nip into her room and water Eric. Back in a minute.”
She pulled the bedroom door closed behind her and pressed her ear to the bathroom door again.
The shower was still running.
“Hannah?” She tapped gently on the door. “Are you all right?”
There was no answer, and short of breaking the door down, there didn’t seem much she could do, so she carried the water jug into Hannah’s room.
The first thing that struck her was how tidy the place was. Posy’s loft occasionally looked as if it had been raided, but everything in Hannah’s room was neat and in its place. There were no clothes strewn on chairs, no shoes scattered on the floor. Even the books on the nightstand were stacked with their edges aligned.
A laptop was open on the desk, showing a spreadsheet so complicated it made Posy’s eyes cross to look at it. She stared at it for a moment, remembering what Hannah had said about their parents valuing only athletic ability.
Then she turned her attention to the Christmas tree. “Hello, Eric.” She checked the moisture in the soil with the backs of her fingers and then slowly added water. “Who’s a thirsty boy, then?”
She was clearing up a few fallen needles when Hannah’s phone rang.
Posy almost dropped the jug. It was rare to get a signal in this part of the house. Typical that the call should come in when Hannah was in the bathroom.
Should she ignore it? No, Hannah was always saying how important her work was. Posy might not be able to rub her sister’s back while she threw up in the toilet, but at least she could take a message.
Deciding that she was quite enjoying this new role of supportive sibling, she grabbed the phone and answered it. “Hello?”
“Hi there, is that dancing pizza girl?”
Posy opened her mouth to say wrong number, but the man kept talking, and because he had a velvet smooth, deep voice that made you feel as if you were being stroked with a fur glove, she kept listening.
“Angie told me she’d spoken to you, and that before you were cut off, you screamed. So naturally, we’re all wondering what happened. Have you been kidnapped by Highland warriors? Carried away by a man wearing a kilt?”
“Er—”
“You’re not answering my emails and I’m worried. I love you, remember? How is Posy? Is she still sick? It must have been something serious to make you drop everything and sprint back to Scotland.”
Sick?
Posy sat down hard on the bed. “Who is this?” And who, she thought, is dancing pizza girl?
“Who is this?”
“Hannah doesn’t eat pizza. She doesn’t touch carbs.”
There was a long silence. “Which one of her sisters are you? Beth or Posy?”
“Posy.”
“Are you better? Hannah was worried about you. She jumped straight on a flight.”
Posy knew she couldn’t possibly have been the reason Hannah had jumped on a flight. “I’m feeling a lot better, thanks for asking.”
“That’s good.”
Posy leaned back on the bed, wondering what illness or accident she was supposed to have suffered. Should she try to sound croaky? Weak? “You seem to know more about me than I do about you.” Evidently Hannah’s pregnancy hadn’t been the result of a one-night stand, as she’d assumed. She eyed the bathroom door, trying to hear if the shower was still running. “You’ve been seeing each other for a while?”
“Six months. I’m Adam.”
Adam, who her sister had been dating for six months. Adam, who loved her sister.
She’d assumed Hannah’s relationships were all casual. She’d had no idea her sister was so deeply involved with a man.
Dancing pizza girl?
Posy wanted to meet that version of her sister. And she wanted to meet the man who brought out a side to Hannah that the rest of them didn’t see.
“Good to meet you, Adam.”
“How is she doing? She was pretty stressed before she left.”
Posy stared across the room to the closed bathroom door. Presumably he didn’t know Hannah was pregnant. “She’s still pretty stressed.”
“It’s frustrating not to be able to talk to her.”
“Yes, the phone signal at Glensay Lodge is more unpredictable than the weather, and that’s saying something. It would probably be easier to get on a flight and have the conversation in person. In fact, why don’t you do that? It’s a great big old family Christmas here, the more the merrier. But either way, you don’t need to worry about her. She seems okay, and she has Eric to keep her company—”
“Eric? Is he the outdoor type?”
Posy eyed the Christmas tree. “You could say that. He’s tall, reasonably broad and likes a drink.” She heard the bathroom door open. “She’s coming, so if you hold on, I’ll—Hello?” But the signal had gone.
Posy put the phone down and stood up as Hannah walked into the room.
With wet hair and no makeup, she looked younger than usual.
“Who were you talking to?”
“Your phone rang—I answered it.” How much should she say? She and her sister were getting along well for the first time in ages. Posy didn’t want to do anything to shatter their fragile truce.
Hannah was rubbing her hair with a towel. “My phone? But there’s no signal in this room.”
“Sometimes there is. Annoying, I know. The suspense kills.”
“Who was it?”
“It was Adam.” Posy noticed the change in her sister. There was a slight stiffening in her shoulders, and a blankness to her expression. It was as if she’d drawn the blinds, ensuring that no one could peep through the cracks and see her thoughts.
Hannah stopped drying her hair. “Did he leave a message?”
“No, but we were cut off before we finished talking.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Because I was in shock. “You were in the shower. I was about to hand you the phone when the signal died. He sounded nice.” She tiptoed carefully. “I assume he’s the father.”
Hannah looked alarmed. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Of course not. I’m your sister. I am a barrier between you and the world.”
Hannah relaxed. “That’s good.”
“You’re feeling sick?”
“All of a sudden. Probably psychological.”
And that, Posy thought, was all she was going to get.
Not wanting to push her luck, she changed the subject. “I’ve been planning Mom’s dinner tomorrow night. You know how desperately she wants Christmas to be perfect, and so far it hasn’t been because she’s been ill. I feel so bad for her.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Looking distracted, Hannah grabbed the hair dryer.
“I thought you, Beth and I should make a massive effort to make Christmas extra special for her, starting with the dinner tomorrow.”
“What would that involve? I’m not plucking a turkey, and I have no i
dea how to knit.”
“I was thinking more about us working hard to get along well. No bickering. We agree with each other. We’re kind to each other. We listen and pay attention. Be perfect sisters.” It sounded hard even to her and she was the one suggesting it. It didn’t surprise her that Hannah looked amused.
“Sounds like the most stressful dinner we will have had in a long time, but sure. I’m on board. You’ll need to tell Beth to leave her phone upstairs, because if that woman calls her, you can bet your life she’ll be answering. She can’t help herself. And if she answers, you’ll yell and that will be the end of sisterly harmony.”
“You yell, too.”
“Because that woman is a monster and I can’t bear to hear her bullying Beth.”
Posy stared at her. “You think that, too?”
“Of course. It’s a fact.”
Posy sighed. “She’s going to be a tough boss.”
“I’m a tough boss,” Hannah said, “although I’d also argue that I’m fair, clear and consistent in my expectations. Corinna isn’t a tough boss. She’s a bully. It’s different. Part of the reason Beth wants to go back to work is for a confidence boost, and working for a difficult boss usually has the opposite effect.”
Posy knew nothing about the corporate world, but what Hannah was saying made sense to her. “Beth thinks it’s a huge compliment that this woman wants her as part of the team.”
Hannah frowned. “I don’t think that’s what is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
Posy didn’t want to forget it. “You help corporations sort themselves out. You have the brain the size of a planet. Can’t you help Beth?”
“What makes you think she wants my help?”
“Well, she certainly needs it. You’re her sister. That gives you the right to interfere without permission. And think about the alternative—if you don’t help her, she’ll go and work for that woman again and it will be awful.”
“I’m not sure that’s what will happen.”
“You think Beth is going to turn her down?”
“No. I think—” Hannah shook her head and selected a hairbrush. “Never mind. Let’s talk about tomorrow. What are we going to cook? What’s Suzanne’s favorite food?”