Dammit.
Whatever this attraction was, it had to stop. Immediately.
I gave my rebellious hormones a sharp slap and hurried on to the safety of the living room.
‘Ah, Sophie. How was your day?’ Hattie was already there, sitting on a wide sofa with a tray of drinks and cake on the table in front of her. Flapjack was snoozing in a patch of sunshine by the full-length window, so Muffin mooched over to join him. ‘Apart from my terrible dog mugging you, of course,’ she added, pouring coffee from a silver pot. ‘He can’t resist a beautiful woman, but that’s no excuse in a court of law, is it?’
‘Muffin wasn’t any better. It’s only because she’s a third of Flapjack’s size that she got away with it.’ I accepted the offered mug, declining milk or sugar, and took a seat on the opposite sofa. ‘But it was lovely to meet Lizzie, and I appreciated a quiet afternoon.’
‘Quiet only once Lizzie got back to work, I imagine.’ Hattie smiled as the door opened again. ‘And here she is. Are the others with you?’
Lizzie came to sit beside her boss, allowing ‘the others’ to enter behind her. I wasn’t surprised to see the man from the kitchen, or the elderly woman leaning on his arm. It hadn’t struck me immediately because of the age difference but seeing him in the kitchen had convinced me that this was Hattie’s cousin, Gideon.
‘Gideon, Aunt Agnes, this is Sophie, the person I told you about.’
‘Hello again,’ Gideon said, with a smile that made my toes curl up inside their furry socks. He wore a checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and when he reached past to pour his mum a coffee, for the first time ever, I found a wrist sexy.
Ugh.
I hated this. I hated him being Gideon. Or at least I wished I did. It would be a lot easier.
‘Thank you everyone for taking the time to be here,’ Hattie continued, once we all had a drink and a slice of lemon cake. ‘I didn’t want to bore you with the details until I knew for sure it was going ahead, but I’m delighted that Sophie has agreed to stay for a while to help me put some thoughts together about Riverbend’s history. She’ll have full access to the whole house, so please be prepared to assist her in whatever way she needs.’
‘The whole house?’ Lizzie asked, a hint of stiffness behind her smile.
‘Yes.’ Hattie met her gaze head-on. ‘We’ll be working on the top floor, but you can message if you need me.’
‘Right.’
‘Are you sure about this?’ Agnes asked, her brow furrowed. ‘It’s going to be painful, opening up that door again. You don’t have to do it just because some book people want a juicy story. It’s not as if you need the money.’
‘I know it won’t be easy,’ Hattie replied. ‘But I’m ready. Those rooms have loomed above my head long enough. Don’t forget I’m a therapist; I do know a bit about processing memories. It’s time I took my own counsel. Besides, Sophie’s here to support me.’
‘I’m not sure how a historian can help with bad memories.’ Agnes sniffed. ‘I really don’t think this is a good idea.’
‘Ah, but Sophie isn’t any old historian.’
‘We’re just worried about you,’ Lizzie added, chewing a mouthful of cake.
Hattie raised an eyebrow. ‘I appreciate your concern, but remembering this can’t be as difficult as living through it was. I will be fine. Now, tell me what you think of the cake. The gals are coming over on Sunday and I always feel nervous serving cake to a professional baker.’
To a mixture of my dismay and delight, it became apparent that everyone was staying for dinner. I’d hoped to be finding out more about Hattie’s story, which was particularly intriguing now I knew we had painful family memories in common. Instead, the next couple of hours were another sore reminder of quite how unfamiliar fun, friendly conversation had become. Apart from my brief visits home to the farmhouse, I ate my meals alone. Even when I was staying in a client’s house, I kept a firm line between work and my personal time. I had no idea how to participate in this lively back and forth.
Three things I discovered over the course of that meal.
Food tasted infinitely better when eaten in good company, surrounded by laughter and witty comebacks.
Hattie loved her family, including Lizzie, who she called ‘my heart’s daughter’, with a passion that stabbed in my guts like a carving knife.
The terrifying, heart-melting longing I felt for gentle, charming Gideon Langford was going to be a big problem.
I gobbled up a slice of leftover lemon cake for dessert, gulped down a decaffeinated coffee and got the heck out of there as soon as was decently possible.
Hattie had one more clanger to drop as I left.
‘Oh, Gideon, I’m tied up with a meeting all morning tomorrow. Can I trust you to show Sophie around the grounds without her coming back encrusted in slime?’
‘It would be my pleasure.’ Gideon smiled his ten-thousand-watt smile, his perfect, river eyes sparkling on mine. I whipped my gaze to Hattie, certain that if anyone caught me looking at Gideon, they’d instantly spot his effect on me.
