Libby shook her head again. “I’m not afraid of James, just surprised that he’s here.”
“Then come to Gu Bràth,” Grace repeated.
Again, Libby shook her head. “No. That won’t solve anything.” She straightened, took a deep breath, and stood, smiling warmly. “I’ll have to deal with him sooner or later, and it might as well be now.”
Grace took off the necklace she was wearing and carefully set it on the desk. She rounded up Elizabeth, scooted the girl toward Grey, and motioned that it was time they left. Libby watched them walk out onto the sidewalk and toward their truck parked in front of the Dolans’ store. Libby could see three other heads sitting in the backseat of the truck.
Grace turned to Libby. “I’m calling Michael,” she stated bluntly. “He should know.”
“Know what?” Libby asked in surprise. “That my mother’s in town? She’s just worried about me. And do you blame her? What if one of your daughters just up and moved clear across the country? Wouldn’t you be hot on her trail? I’m betting your husband would.”
“Not if she’s a grown woman, more than capable of making her own decisions.”
“But wouldn’t you want to understand those decisions?”
Grace conceded with a tender smile. “Yes. I would be on the next plane out,” she admitted. “But Michael should know this James guy is in town.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Grace echoed in disbelief. “Because he has a stake in this now. He’s not going to like the fact that a man has come here looking for you.”
“What stake?” Libby asked, honestly confused. “He’s my landlord, not my baby-sitter.”
“Since when do landlords spend the night?”
“What?” Libby cried. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Grey left to go hunting before daybreak this morning,” Grace said. “And he told me he ran into Michael walking back to his house at four-thirty this morning.”
Libby returned to her chair and rubbed her suddenly aching forehead. So much for discretion.
Grace patted her shoulder. “There’s something you need to understand about these Scots, Libby. They’re more old-fashioned than they are reasonable most of the time.
They can be so damned possessive when it comes to their women that if it weren’t so frustrating, it would be comical. I’ll bet you a penny that Grey’s on his cell phone right now, calling Michael.”
“But why?”
“Because of your reaction,” Grace explained. “Grey saw how shaken you were. And to his way of thinking, that means Michael needs to become involved. It’s a guy thing,”
Grace added with a chuckle. “An unwritten code they all live by, to watch out for each other’s back. Or their women, in this case.”
“That’s archaic. We can take care of ourselves. I don’t need Michael beating his chest to run James off. I can do that all by myself.” Libby stood up, suddenly fortified with anger. “And I’ll tell Michael that if he tries to interfere. It’s an affair, for crying out loud.
A simple, stupid affair that probably won’t even happen again.”
“Uh-oh. He’s already messed things up?”
“I woke up in the back of my freezing truck this morning, all alone, after Michael snuck out. He didn’t even say good-bye or thank-you.”
“The back of your truck?” Grace repeated, her eyes rounding in disbelief. “But what were… why the truck?” she asked, trying hard not to laugh.
“Because it’s the only place that Mary hasn’t been part of. Good God, Grace. I’m living in Mary’s house, sleeping in Mary’s bed, trying to have an affair with her former lover.”
Grace opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“I’m sorry. She was your sister,” Libby continued more softly, instantly contrite. “But can you understand how weird it is for me?”
“I-I hadn’t thought about it from that perspective,” Grace said gently, leaning past her cumbersome belly to give Libby a hug. “I suppose it’s only natural for you to feel… weird.” She pulled back and smiled crookedly. “But the truck?” she whispered, covering her smile with her hand.
Libby shrugged. “It seemed logical at the time.”
“And he didn’t say good-bye. Or… or thank you?”
Libby found her sense of humor and smiled sheepishly. “It does sound rather petty, doesn’t it?”
Grace picked up her purse and headed for the door but stopped and looked back. “I warned you, didn’t I, that he would drive you crazy. So prepare yourself, my good friend. I give Michael ten minutes before he’s darkening your doorstep. Welcome to the Highlands of Maine,” Grace trailed off with a laugh, walking out to join her family.
Libby stared after her and watched as Grey quickly came around the truck, opened the door, and lifted his pregnant wife into the front seat. Six wool-capped heads were lined up in the two rows of seats in the back, all occupied with Elizabeth’s new blue jay necklace.
So, Libby thought with a sigh, walking back to her desk and flopping in the chair. That’s what love looked like.
Would she ever have that? A handsome, strong, protective husband and a whole passel of adorable children?
Lord, she hoped so.
Well, maybe notseven .
Chapter Sixteen
Considering her options,Libby decided the reasonable thing to do was run. She locked her store, climbed into her truck, and headed out of town before her mom and James found her and Michael could play the knight in shining armor and come to her rescue.
She didn’t need rescuing—by anyone. Her mother was there because she was worried about her only child.
James was there on his own agenda.
Libby drove until she saw a sign that had a picture of a picnic table on it. She turned down the dirt road and quickly came to a deserted picnic area on the shore of Pine Lake.
She looked around and then eased her truck deep into a young stand of fir trees. Sure it couldn’t be seen from the main road, she got out of the truck, sat on top of one of the many picnic tables, and stared at the cold water lapping against the icy shoreline.
She snuggled into her blaze orange jacket, pulled up the hood, and tucked her hands in her pockets. And she sighed, thought about her new life, and compared it with her old life in California.
No matter how she looked at it, she’d made the right decision. Even without this… this gift she’d been given, it had been time for a change. Practicing medicine, no matter how honorable and fulfilling, just wasn’t enough anymore.
But was making jewelry really what she was looking for?
Seeing Grace MacKeage with her family that morning had stirred something deep inside Libby. Maybe it wasn’t medicine she was trying to escape but a new life she was seeking. One that included a husband who loved her, children, and a different sort of fulfillment.
Why couldn’t she have it all?
She could practice medicine anywhere. Wherever there were people, there was a need for doctors. California or Maine, it didn’t matter; it only mattered that she find more of a balance in her life.
And for that, Maine came out the winner, hands down. There was something about this place—the mountains, the people, the sense of timelessness that seemed to permeate the air. It didn’t get any more real than shooting a deer for the dinner table or riding through the woods on a horse or an ATV. Even the weather could not be ignored but counted on to affect daily lives. And neighborliness—that was the most remarkable thing here.
Grace had offered her sanctuary that morning, and Libby had been humbled by the offer.
That had made her realize she was closer to these people than she had ever been to anyone back in California—except Grammy Bea.
Yes, she had some serious thinking to do about her future.
“Ya’re developing a bad habit of running away,” Michael said from right behind her.
Libby yelped, jumped up, and would have fallen off the picnic table if Michael’s strong hands hadn’t caught her and pulled her up against his broad, solid chest. His warm, demanding lips covered her mouth, swallowing her curse of outrage before she could scold him for scaring her.