His Brother's Bride

Laurel continued to study the pattern of floorboards in Maureen and Clint’s office for a few moments. There were seven boards directly in front of her, all with varying degrees of widening grain as they approached the desk. Each board represented a clue to her.

“We have an encrypted laptop,” she began.

“And a black-and-white photo of a couple getting ready to kiss,” Scott added.

“Could be someone he met when he was visiting the inn on that page of the book,” Laurel said.

“And they became friends...” Scott added, playing along.

“They could even be the owners.”

“Maybe Leslie Renwick is their daughter.” Scott’s voice, while still tired, had lightened.

Laurel grinned, though it wasn’t her best effort. “And they mailed him the birth certificate with their picture to include in his next book,” she joked.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Scott said, his voice leaving her warmer than she’d felt all evening.

“Okay,” she answered as softly, intimately.

And then, with leaded feet, she headed back upstairs, feeling guilty for taking from Scott, even in the smallest measure, the comfort she used to get from Paul.

She’d hoped she was ready to move on, but was beginning to fear she’d end up just like William Byrd—alone for the rest of her life.

In love with a memory.

* * *

HALF AN HOUR LATER, Keegan knocked on Laurel’s door a second time and she headed back downstairs to the office. Expecting to hear Scott’s voice telling her he’d thought of something else, Laurel couldn’t figure out for a second who was the owner of the male voice on the other end of the line.

“Laurel?” the man asked again. His voice was warm. Familiar. Concerned. “I just got your message. Are you okay?”

Shane. Her heart dropped. Right along with her shoulders and her spirits. Other than leaving a brief message on Shane’s voice mail telling him she wouldn’t be returning as soon as she’d expected, she hadn’t given a thought to the gorgeous, rich and available newscaster back in New York.

“I’m fine,” she told him, thinking the words were partially true. She hadn’t fallen apart. In some ways she was handling her return to Cooper’s Corner much better than she’d expected.

What she hadn’t expected was to have him call her here. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. At least not yet.

“I got your message.”

“Oh. Good.” Shouldn’t she be telling him about the thoughts and feelings that had been plaguing her so much earlier in the evening? Shouldn’t she tell him about meeting the Coopers again—and Scott? Shane knew that’s why she’d come back to Cooper’s Corner—to try to resolve the past and move forward into the future, a future he wanted to share with her.

If this was the man she was going to consider developing an exclusive relationship with—the first man she’d even considered dating since Paul’s death—why couldn’t she at least talk to him about the wars raging inside her?

“I was worried,” he said.

“No need.” Laurel had always been private, keeping to herself—until she’d met Paul. And then, only with him and his family had she felt safe enough to open up a little bit.

“You’re finding the stay restful?”

“I’m actually working on a possible story.” Come to think of it, she realized, even after a three-and-a-half year separation, she’d given Scott more this afternoon than she was able to give Shane now.

Laurel’s head started to ache. Of course, talking to Scott was natural, considering the history they shared. The grief they shared.

“What story?” Shane asked. If he’d sounded resentful—or jealous—Laurel wouldn’t have had such a hard time. Instead he sounded concerned, like the friend he’d grown to be these past months, and that made her feel even guiltier for her inability to share herself with him.

“One of the guests—a man in his early sixties—disappeared from Twin Oaks on Saturday. As a favor to the owners here, a state policeman is conducting an unofficial investigation on his own time. He’s letting me join him.”

“Any leads?”