Page 13 of Sanctuary at MacLeod's Cove
Jen shook her head decisively. ‘No thanks.’ She said it too quickly, and he wondered why she didn’t like her thoughts. Then he couldn’t figure out what she was saying ‘no thanks’ to. Him or being alone?
‘So, would you like me to leave?’
The shake of her head was followed by a smile, which unlocked places inside him which had been frozen for too long. He smiled back.
Lucy came and placed his food on the table between them, glancing from one to the other. ‘Well, this looks good,’ she said ambiguously. Jen shot her sister another irritated look and sat down.
‘Yes, it does, thank you,’ he said before sitting down opposite her. ‘Jen, I… I didn’t know you were back.’
‘We only arrived last night.’
His smile faded. Of course, she’d come with that husband he’d heard about. Rich, powerful, handsome. Everything his Jen deserved. The thought of her as ‘his’ Jen made him wince.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said, before he could check himself.
‘And you,’ she said. Her clipped tone told him she was being polite. ‘I… didn’t realise you still lived around here.’
‘I don’t.’ He didn’t elaborate. They sat in silence, except for the hum of conversation from other customers and the mellow jazz-funk music on the sound system. When Lucy arrived with the coffees, they were both relieved.
‘Here you go,’ she said, looking from one to the other of them before wiping away a few drops of coffee from the table. ‘Jen’s just arrived home, Sam. Hopefully she’ll stay this time. Which is good news for MacLeod’s Cove. Another author to add to our community. Can never have enough creatives, I reckon, don’t you?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she chatted on, obviously having taken it on herself to fill the silence which hung between them. ‘Mum reckons MacLeod’s Cove should host a literary festival. What do you think?’ Again, Lucy didn’t wait for an answer. ‘But then, I’m not a literary sort. I prefer a book I can get lost in, one that I don’t have to look the words up for. But there you go. I guess we’re all different, and there’s something out there for everyone. A bit like food really. Some like the fancy coffees, and others like a good old-fashioned filter coffee — the kind that you can stand a spoon up in. Haha.’ She wiped the table again, although it was clean. ‘Live and let live, that’s my motto.’
While Lucy prattled on, Jen’s eyes darted from her coffee cup to Sam, before looking back down at her plate again. She looked even more nervous than he was. Another thing that had changed. She’d always been the most confident person in the room. Happy to say what she felt, happy to tell others when they’d fallen short of her ideals. He’d always envied her self-assurance. But the woman sitting in front of him looked frightened of her own shadow.
He stirred his coffee too vigorously, forgetting he hadn’t added any sugar yet. He glanced up at her again, thankful for the stream of consciousness that Lucy was providing. What the hell had happened to Jen? His blood boiled at the thought that that tosser of a husband had done this to her.
‘Sam?’ said Lucy.
‘What?’ he said, his tone fuelled by his anger at the thought of why Jen had lost that buoyant edge to her personality he’d always loved so much.
‘I was talking about the dance coming up,’ Lucy said, frowning. ‘What’s got into you?’
‘Nothing.’ He sighed, feeling Jen’s eyes settle on him for the first time since he’d sat down. ‘What was it you were saying?’
‘That the band playing at the dance was on in Wellington last month, and they’re really good. You should go.’
He shrugged. And hell should freeze over. He hadn’t been to a dance at St Andrews Community Hall since he was eighteen.
Lucy sighed, obviously giving up on him, and turned to Jen. ‘How did Liam sleep?’
Sam ground his teeth. So that was the bastard’s name.
‘Much better than I imagined.’ Jen turned to Sam. ‘It was a long trip. We came directly from London.’
‘Oh,’ he said, his mind still focused on Liam. No doubt he had the build of a rugby forward, and the accent and wallet of an Etonian. ‘Long journey,’ he muttered before taking a bite of his toasted sandwich.
‘Yep.’ But there was something more in the brief, sad smile she shot him before she took the last sip of her coffee and placed the cup back on the saucer. She scooped up the few crumbs remaining from her croissant and popped them in her mouth.
He suddenly realised that she now had no reason to stick around. In a panic, he racked his brains for something to say. ‘So, Lucy says you’re here to stay.’
‘Yes, I needed to come home.’
‘And, Liam,’ he cleared his throat, ‘he doesn’t mind making the move?’
’No, he’s young, so…’ She faded out.
He frowned. Exactly how much younger than Jen was this husband of hers? Was he some sort of toyboy? ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Well, I guess Wellington will have whatever he’s looking for.’
She frowned slightly as if confused. ‘Like?’
