Page 37 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

Her pleading eyes tempted him to say yes. The evening had been wonderful, and he was as reluctant for it to end as his daughter was. ‘No. Say goodnight to Bree, clean your teeth and I’ll come and tuck you in.’

Vicki’s bedtime would be the end of their evening. Matt hadn’t realised how much he missed having another adult to talk to, share the enjoyment of a quiet evening at home playing Squatter with, or to simply talk about things other than school and alpacas. He wanted to talk books and movies and politics. The weather and world events. Most of the time it was just him and Vicki, and as much as he loved his daughter, that wasn’t always enough. He watched as Bree hugged Vicki and wished her goodnight before his daughter vanished down the hallway.

‘Thank you for being so patient with her.’

Bree shook her head. ‘No. I want to thank you for a lovely evening. I guess I’ve been a bit lonely since I moved here but I’ve been too busy to notice.’

‘Would you stay for a glass of wine, once I’ve put Vicki to bed?’

What was he thinking? This visit had been all about Vicki. A thank you for her alpaca visit. A way of helping her understand how to thank people who were good to you. It was part of her growing up. It had nothing to do with him. And if Bree stayed, it would be because he had asked her. That made it a very different part of the evening. Half of him hoped she’d say yes. The other half was slightly afraid that she would.

‘That would be lovely. Thank you.’

‘Why don’t you go into the living room and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a minute with—white or red?’

‘White, please.’

Matt stood up and slid the game back into its place on the bookshelf. Then he made his way to Vicki’s room, to find her lying in bed, her nose, as always, buried in a book. When she saw him, her face broke into a wide smile.

Look, Kim. Look at our beautiful daughter. See how happy she is? I’m trying my best, Kim. But it’s been so hard without you.

He perched on the edge of her bed. ‘You can read for a little while,’ he said. ‘But I’ll be back to turn the light out shortly.’

‘I love you, Daddy.’ Two little arms went around his neck and hugged him so tight he could hardly breathe. Or was it the weight in his chest that made breathing hard?

‘I love you too, honey.’

The nightmares that had woken her again and again after her mother’s death had mostly faded, but Matt left the door ajar, just in case. Making his way to the kitchen, he retrieved a bottle of wine that he kept in the back of the fridge for reasons that escaped him. Since Kim’s death, he rarely drank. And certainly not at home. Alone. He’d tried that once or twice in the early days. It blotted out the pain for a little while, but it always came back. And he quickly recognised the danger in it, both for himself and for Vicki.

But tonight he wasn’t alone.

He found two wine glasses and gave them a quick polish, then returned to the living room, where Bree was looking at the bookshelf that filled one wall of the room. From where she was standing, her back to him, he knew what she was looking at. A framed version of the same photo that he stared at so often in his office sat on the middle shelf. Any minute now she would turn around and he would see pity in her eyes. She’d say something about how beautiful Kim had been. About how much he must miss her. About how hard it must be raising a daughter alone. The words would be well meant, but every one of them would hit him like a hammer blow, bringing back the grief and the loneliness and the black misery that he had been fighting for so long. People always said those words out of kindness and concern. They could not know how each one was like a wrecking ball, shattering his attempts to rebuild a life without the woman he had loved from the moment they’d met.

As he set the two glasses down on the table, Bree turned. He saw a flicker of sympathy on her face, not pity. And only a flicker.

‘You have some interesting books there, Matt. I read a lot too. I like adventure and romance.’ She picked up one of the glasses and settled herself comfortably at the end of the sofa. ‘But you read mostly non-fiction. Why? What’s the attraction?’

‘Learning things, I guess.’ Matt settled at the other end of the couch. ‘I never had the chance to go to university. I think I would have liked it.’

‘I didn’t. Like it, I mean.’ Bree took a sip of the wine. ‘This, however, I do like. Is it local?’

And so started a conversation that ranged over a dozen different topics. A conversation that brought laughter and challenge and enjoyment. A conversation like he hadn’t had in two years.

He was sad when, after putting down her empty wine glass, Bree declined another and got to her feet.

‘I should go. It’s late and I have animals that will expect to see me bright and early in the morning.’

‘Let me walk you out.’

He opened the front door and went down the stairs behind her, hunching his shoulders against the wind. Bree opened her car door and faced him.

‘Thank you for this evening.’

‘Thank you for being so kind to Vicki. I had a good evening too. I’m glad you came.’

Before he could react, Bree kissed his cheek. The touch of her lips was brief, a butterfly kiss, but it felt like a burning ember placed into the icy hole where his heart used to be. Then she kissed him again, and not on the cheek. Her lips moving on his were warm and soft and oh so sweet. The ice cracked some more, as his lips began to move with hers. She tasted of wine and warmth and joy. It was a taste like no other.

Matt flinched away. He looked down into those beautiful eyes, one blue and one green, at the wild hair framing the lovely face of an attractive woman.

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