The Way Love Goes

by Pauline Saull

  “Sure. You know I’d love to have you.”

  “Is a month okay? I’ve taken leave.”

  “Lucy! That’s great. When can you get here?”

  “Friday, early evening. There’s a flight to San Jose arriving at six thirty. I am so pleased.”

  “Oh, Lucy. That’s wonderful, just wonderful. I can’t wait to see you. Friday can’t come soon enough.”

  »»•««

  The meeting at San Jose International was emotional. Lucy ran, flinging her arms around Freya, hugging her tightly.

  “It’s great to see you,” she whispered.

  Freya stepped back to look at her. “How is it?”

  “Hell. But I’m glad in a way.”

  “Let’s get home,” Freya said. “You can tell me all about it.”

  They walked out into the dusk and Lucy gasped. “Oh how lovely! It’s still warm.”

  Freya laughed. “I’m getting terribly blasé about this marvelous weather.”

  In the car Lucy turned to Freya.

  “I’m not here to ruin my time with you,” she said, “so let’s get the Doc out of the way now. He called me just before I left, said it had all been a huge mistake…ending it with me, that he wanted us to start seeing one another again.”

  “Oh, Luce!”

  “He’s a cretin, Freya. I’m well rid of him. I won’t repeat what I said to him.”

  “You’re not as heartbroken as I feared you would be?” Freya shot her a glance.

  “No. I reckon I’m still pretty numb, but hey, thank God this happened before I ruined his wife’s and her children’s lives! I couldn’t have coped with that.” Lucy sighed. “The truth is sad to admit, but I’ve seen the light. I now think Bernard, his real name by the way, is a pretty shallow, sad individual.”

  Freya reached across and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Well said. The right one will come along for you some day.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Huh!”

  They both started giggling and were laughing helplessly by the time Freya drove through Byron’s gates.

  “Wow!” Lucy said as they stopped outside the house.

  »»•««

  The time passed quickly that first evening. Freya took pleasure in showing Lucy the house and garden, leading her through the orchard to the fence at the far edge of the land. They leaned on it and Freya pointed.

  “This is where the golf course will be. Over there is a deep well. Flynn is planning to dig out a lake around it to encourage wildlife and help with the irrigation. He’s keeping all the mature trees.” Freya stared across the meadows.

  “He sounds like a good guy,” Lucy said. “How are things between you?”

  “Oh, up and down. One minute I think…Yeah, and feel as though I’m floating, the next I’m back feet planted firmly on terra firma. The guy’s a mystery.”

  “I’d love to meet him.”

  Freya turned and started walking back toward the house. “Maybe you will.” She tucked her arm through Lucy’s. “No more Flynn O’Neill tonight. I’ve bought a large box of Belgian chocolates and a couple of bottles of New Zealand wine, so let’s go put up our feet and gorge ourselves!”

  “Sounds good to me. Lead the way, my friend.”

  »»•««

  Saturday morning Freya turned over in bed and groaned. Between them, the previous night they’d eaten all the chocolates, made popcorn and finished that off, and drank all the wine. She had to smile though. It had been a really fun evening. Lucy said she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in ages. Eventually dragging herself out of bed and under the new pounding shower, Freya felt better. She dressed and wandered downstairs.

  Lucy was already in the kitchen drinking coffee.

  She grinned seeing Freya. “We had a ball last night, didn’t we?”

  Freya poured a black coffee. “And how! Took me back to college days. Do you remember the fun we used to have?”

  “Yeah. We were mad. Twenty-four hours non-stop partying, no sleep. I don’t know how we did it! Still,” she smiled, “the main thing is we survived, and yes, last night was great, letting my hair down. I haven’t been able to relax like that recently… Well, you know, things have been very fraught, so that was a nice change. What have you planned for today?”

  “I thought we’d let the boys get on with their work, hopefully they’ll be finished today or tomorrow, and that we’d take a drive through the Napa Valley and grab lunch at a winery.”

  “Sounds great. But I need something a bit lighter to wear, hon. These Philly clothes are not suitable for this climate.”

  Freya smiled. “I know just the place.”

  »»•««

  As they were about to enter Tanya’s Boutique, Freya heard her name called.

  She turned. Tim, eyes on the traffic, was weaving his way across the road.

  “Freya!” The smile lit up his face. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. You?”

  “Busy as usual.”

  “This is my friend, Lucy.” She dragged Lucy forward.

  They shook hands, and Freya thought she saw a flicker of something in Lucy’s gray eyes.

  “Tim is Morvenna’s vet,” she explained.

  Lucy nodded. “A very rewarding job,” she said.

  Tim smiled. “Sometimes. Well I’ll let you guys get on with whatever you’re doing.” He glanced at the shop. “Retail therapy? Sorry, that’s what ma calls it.”

  Freya laughed. “Not for me. It’s Lucy’s turn today.”

  They said their good-byes, and Lucy followed Freya into the shop.

  “What a nice guy,” she murmured. “They sure do breed good-lookers in Cali!”

  Tanya, finished with a customer, came to join them.

  “Oh, isn’t this delicious?” Lucy held out a soft, pale lemon-and-gray cotton sweatshirt. She held it against herself. “I adore it.”

  Tanya smiled and moved along the rack. “These,” she said pulling out a pair of linen dark gray trousers, “would complement it perfectly. What do you think?”

  Lucy studied the price tag and rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  “Treat yourself!” Freya insisted. “Go try them on.” Lucy disappeared into the changing room.

  “It’s lovely to see you again,” Tanya said. “I didn’t make the connection that time you came in, but of course it’s common knowledge Archie’s daughter is here.”

  “Did you know him too?”

  “Only from a distance. You couldn’t actually miss him. A striking figure swinging down the high street.” She smiled. “How have you settled in now?”

  “Very well, though workmen have moved in so I’m not relishing the idea of floors being ripped up but it has to be done.…” She stopped. Rochelle was walking past the shop. She wore short, cropped shorts showing the most amazing legs, and a skimpy top that clung seductively. Tanya had turned too, and smiled.

  “Flynn O’Neill must be about somewhere,” she said wryly.

  “That looks lovely on you,” Freya murmured as Lucy emerged. “Just right.”

  »»•««

  The drive took them along the highway before turning off into open countryside. Freya, still with Tanya’s word whirling in her head, was not really seeing the beauty of the open valley until Lucy spoke.

  “This is just gorgeous.” She leaned back, and Freya felt a rush of pleasure for her friend’s obvious contentment, pleased to see the anxiety lines gone from her face.

  I must stop this idiotic nonsense and enjoy the day.

  They took their time wandering through the beautiful Napa, stopping for lunch at a boutique winery where Lucy bought two bottles of the premier vintage reds.

  By the time they arrived back at Byron House dusk was giving way to a navy blue sky speckled with a myriad of stars.

  “Everywhere is so beautiful,” Lucy said. They climbed from the car, and she hugged Freya tightly. “Thank you, hon. I’ve had a lovely day.”

  Lucy went upstairs and Freya put together
dishes of olives, a plate with cheese and slices of ham, and a basket of bread, and took it into the lounge.

  She lit the lamps, closed the drapes, and lit the fire. The dried cones crackled into sparks and ignited, and she threw on a couple of logs.

  “I love this,” Lucy said when she came down. “On winter nights in Philly it’s not the same. We have the heating on to keep warm; here it’s purely for pleasure.” She sank into the sofa, tucking her feet beneath her.

  “Is something bugging you, hon?”

  Freya nodded. “You know, when you were seeing him? I’m sorry for bringing it up, but the feelings you had, I mean, they must have been pretty strong or you wouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with him, and well, I think I feel like that about Flynn.” She smiled. “Crazy isn’t it? I’ve only known him a couple of weeks, yet today when you were in the changing room, the girl who works for him, Rochelle, walked past the shop and Tanya said, ‘Flynn must be around somewhere,’ I felt such a spurt of irrational jealousy!”

  Lucy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Freya nodded. “Thing is, I know he’s only paying attention to me because I have something he wants. Other than that,” she shrugged, chuckled, “I have to wonder if there is a generous dollop of good old-fashioned lust on his part, for there certainly is on mine!”

  Lucy laughed. “Nothing wrong with that!”

  “Do you recall Phillip?” Freya asked.

  Lucy nodded and grimaced.

  “Yeah, I wonder now what I was thinking of. I never felt anything like this about him. Still, water under the bridge now. So, back to you and Bernard?”

  Lucy’s pretty face broke into a smile. “Hey, no wonder he preferred to be called, ‘Doc’! It’s a good question, hon, and I have to be completely honest, it had never happened to me that way before. I’m usually very cautious, taking my time getting to know someone, but with him it was different. Now, I think it was the power thing, you know the top hospital consultant singling me out?”

  “Mm,” Freya mused. “I wonder where or when love comes into a relationship like that. I’m confused, Lucy, because the moment I met Flynn I felt just how you’ve described your feelings. A spark definitely ignited in me as our eyes met, the skin on the back of my neck tingled, and oh, that sweet melting feeling when I’m close to him…” She stopped. Lucy was staring at her, mouth slightly open.

  “What?”

  “It sounds very much like love to me, honey,” Lucy said seriously.

  “Does it? That’s why I’m confused. You loved your guy and he let you down. I once thought I was falling for Phillip and he let me down.”

  Lucy leaned forward. “That’s because they were both creeps. Don’t put Flynn in that category.”

  They sat beside the fire, ate, chatted, and drank wine until both started yawning. Lucy cleared the dishes, and Freya put the screen in front of the fire.

  On the landing outside her bedroom, Lucy kissed and hugged her. “You are the best friend. Do you know that? This break is the best thing that could have happened to me. Sleep well, honey.”

  In her room, Freya undressed, and before climbing in to bed closed the window. A cooler than usual breeze had blown up. As she pulled down the sash she noticed a mark on the bottom sill. She rubbed her finger along it and stared. Soil.

  Where the heck did that come from?

  She went into the bathroom to wash her hands, reasoning that out here, so close to the hills, all sorts of creatures may be attracted to an open window and resolved to ask Ian about fitting gauze or mesh, whatever it was people used around here.

  Chapter Ten

  “So what do you think, Gramps?” Flynn handed the gun over.

  “I think it’s a rum do. That’s what I think. I can’t believe Archie felt the need to have one of these in the house. He sure never mentioned it to me.”

  “But we both know there was a change in him, he’d become withdrawn.”

  “I know. But that doesn’t mean he went plum crazy and bought a weapon!”

  “Okay.” Flynn nodded. “I’m sorry to keep harping on, but when you say withdrawn, can you explain?”

  Mickey pondered. His blue eyes narrowed. “Let’s put it this way. When he stopped inviting me to play cards, I smelt a rat, thought he’d found another partner, you know, one who didn’t always beat him.”

  “I thought you said he always beat you.”

  “Only when I let him. No, once I realized there was no one else, I put it down to his health. I had a tiny suspicion that maybe, him being a doctor an’ all, that he knew he had something wrong with him. Then I thought about the child, Freya we now know of course, who he never mentioned again and I wondered if he was busy putting his affairs in order, you know, doing the right thing by her. I’m sorry, perhaps I should have told you this before, Flynn. But of course, we’re forgetting Pamela’s death. That must have affected him. After all they’d been married over thirty years.”

  “That’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to divulge something revealed in confidence.”

  Mickey handed the gun back. “Take it. Can’t stand the things.”

  Flynn smiled. “So you don’t think he’d bought it because something scared him?”

  “Ha, ha! Archie frightened? No, you can forget that. Angry maybe. He only had to draw those thick red eyebrows together and he scares the living daylights out of anyone, me included, when he thought I might be cheating!” He winked.

  Flynn rose. “I feel a heck of a lot better about Freya being in that house alone now. Thanks, Gramps.”

  “Um, by the way.” Mickey stroked his chin, looked up at his grandson. “That Freya, she’s a darn fine-looking woman, Flynn. Have you noticed her skin? Like a beautiful ripe peach. Made me wish I was your age again, she did. I’d have been after her good style!”

  Flynn laughed. “You old reprobate. With that wicked look in your blue eyes you’d probably have got her. See you later, Gramps.”

  He put the weapon in the trunk of his car, telling himself the desire to see Freya again was nothing more than the need to ask her if she wanted him to dispose of the firearm, as he didn’t want to hold onto it. Nevertheless, as he drove toward Byron House gates and up the driveway, his pulse rate quickened.

  He raked his hair back, smiling at the feeble excuse to see her and feeling sure she’d see right through it and know the true reason. If only I could tell her. Tell her that I can’t get out of my head how she’d felt in my arms when we danced, and apologize for the fact that I probably behaved like an over-sexed school kid! He squirmed in his seat as he drew up outside the house and stopped the engine. Had she noticed his reaction to her when he held her—and what the heck had he blabbed into her neck?

  Thank goodness he couldn’t remember, because it didn’t bear thinking about.

  »»•««

  Freya brought up the e-mail from Mr. Wainright regarding her final financial position and felt a slight pang of anxiety. It appeared she was not as wealthy as the lawyer had at first intimated. At the end of the financial statement Wainright had added a note.

  May I suggest the two hundred redundant acres be something you consider offloading? As you’re aware there is already a very interested buyer. The whole thing could be cut and dried in a matter of days leaving you worry free.

  Yours etcetera

  Freya tapped her nails on the desk. In spite of urgings from Wainright, Sammy, and Lucy, she found the idea of giving Flynn O’Neill what he wanted unsettling. Clearly here was a man used to getting his own way, capable of plastering the Irish charm on with a trowel if need be to accomplish his goal. But Freya had never been one to give in easily on anything, and she wasn’t about to start now.

  She would sell the acres, had to because she needed the money to keep the old house in good repair, but when she felt good and ready, not before.

  Is that it? Am I being stubborn, prepared to hang on to the land just to keep him around?

  The sound of tires outside drew her to the
window, and her heart lurched. She pulled back slightly, and with the drapes hiding her watched Flynn unfold from the sports car. A soft sigh escaped her.

  As on the first occasion, he called out, “Anyone home?”

  “Hi.” Freya walked casually into the hall and licked her dry lips.

  “Hi again. I err…called round because, well, I need to know what you want me to do with the gun.”

  Freya stepped back. “Care for a coffee? I’d rather we discussed it inside.”

  “Sure.” They walked down the hallway into the kitchen, and Flynn waited as she filled two cups. “Thanks.” He took one from her. “You’ll be pleased to know that Gramps doesn’t think the gun is significant, though he has no idea why Archie would have wanted one. He never mentioned any concerns to him, so it must be as we said, bought, put away, and forgotten about.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to hear that. I don’t know how you dispose of a weapon, but I’d like it to go.” She was thankful for his help, that it would be gone. No point in alarming Lucy.

  “I think the best idea is to hand it in to the police. Tell them how you found it. I don’t think anything further will be necessary. I know Rupert Collins, the Inspector. Want me to do it for you? It’s in my trunk.”

  “I would. Thank you, Flynn. It will be a load off my mind. So tell me, did your grandfather…I can’t bring myself to call him Mickey, but did he mention anything further on the reason for my father suddenly seeming withdrawn? Take a seat.”

  Flynn sank onto a chair, but Freya remained standing, leaning against the sink.

  “The only possible explanation Gramps came up with is that Archie knew he was ill. And if he was, then he would want to make everything worry-free for you. That meant forgetting the agreement with me, which is perhaps why he withdrew from us…embarrassed possibly, I don’t really know. We’ll never know the truth of that.”

  “No, we won’t. How sad though if he was. I wish…” Freya bit her lip. A lump had formed in her throat.

  Flynn put his cup down, rose, and touched her arm. “You wish you could have been here for him, right?”

  “Yes. I hate to think of him lonely, alone.” Her eyes were drawn to his tanned hand resting on her arm. He withdrew it. “I’m glad you and your family were here for him,” she said.