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was something in her voice that madeHugh look at her, but she refused to meet his eye. He wondered whathad prompted such a question. Would it please her to know that hewas unattached as much as it pleased him that she was widowed? Notthat he didn’t regret her loss, but he was inordinately glad shedid not have a husband about. “I am nae.”

“Engaged?”

“Nae, I always found myself emphaticallydisengaged.” Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, Sorcha’smouth softened into a slight smile to acknowledge his quip. “Wouldit trouble ye if I were wed, Sorcha?”

“No, I … No, of course not,” she stuttered.“I was just wondering, the way you said that about yourfamily.”

“Yet, ye were wed.” She shot him anotherinscrutable look, her lips pressed firmly together, but Hughcontinued doggedly on. “He was killed.”

Her eyes closed and she mouthed the wordsilently but did not respond. Hugh recalled the tiny portraits ofthe man on the mantle of her home. The ribbons and medals. And thefolded flag. “He was a soldier, aye?” Hugh pressed. “Awarrior?”

Sorcha’s lips parted at that and she turnedto look at him, her amethyst eyes glassy … and surprised. Theshadow of satisfaction lit them then. “I like that. Matt would haveliked that. A warrior.” She paused, and Hugh feared that was allshe would say on the subject, but after a moment she continued, herwords whispered on the morning breeze. “Yes, Matt was in the Army.It was all he ever wanted to do, to serve his country …”

She drifted off into silence, staring outover the water beyond until Hugh was certain she wouldn’t revealany more and he found that he sincerely wanted to know. To know herbetter. Sorcha was his only ally in this time. She was his onlyfriend, and Hugh knew he couldn’t have asked for a better one. Andas he began to know her better, it was easy to see that it wasn’tmerely sympathy in her eyes when she looked at him. It was empathy.She understood loss.

“I met him my senior year of high school,”she continued softly. Though Hugh wasn’t acquainted with the terms,he didn’t interrupt to ask. “His family moved here from Denver forhis dad’s job. And that was it. We dated through that year and weboth went to UW … the University of Washington. Matt was in theNROTC and was commissioned after we graduated. We went to FortCarson for a while and a couple other bases before Matt was firstsent overseas. I hated it, but it was what he wanted. So I camehome and he went overseas, first to Iraq and then Afghanistan…”

Again Sorcha trailed off. It wasn’tdifficult to know what came next but he was surprised when shecontinued, her voice laced with bitterness. “There wasn’t evenenough of him left to fill the body bag. I-I never even got to lookat him again.” Those last words were choked as her throat tightenedaround them. “Everyone wonders why I do what I do now. That’s why.No one should have to lose someone like that and not even have onelast moment.”

A single tear trickled down Sorcha’s cheek,and Hugh gently wiped it away. His heart ached for her, for theloss of a man she had clearly loved, and loved still. “I am trulysorry for yer loss,” he offered. “How long has it been?”

“Three years,” she answered with a sniff,and Hugh straightened in surprise.

Given her profound grief, he might havethought it a matter of months, perhaps a year. Three years? It wasa lifetime to grieve, even for one so loved. Death and loss were amatter of rote in his time. People lived and died, often young andunexpectedly. They were mourned but life went on. Had thingschanged so much since then? Did everyone in this time wallow ingrief and misery when there was life and living to be embraced?Hugh wanted to ask but struggled with the words lest he offendher.

“Is three years or more a common period ofmourning in this time?” he asked as gently as possible.

“No, apparently not,” she answered with thatsame bitterness, swiping her hand across her eyes. “You’d think I’mthe biggest aberration on the planet, the way everyone fusses aboutit. Everyone is on me about it, even Matt’s parents. I should getout more, meet more men, date, remarry, live a little, let it go,move on!” The list went on until the anger in her voice rose inpitch.

“Why hae ye nae?” Hugh couldn’t help butask. It was something he simply couldn’t comprehend, but perhapspeople in his time were more prosaic about life and death. “Nae oneexpects ye tae mourn forever, I’m sure.”

“Because I don’t want to!” she bit out,turning to glare at him. “I was happy! I loved him! Do you thinksomething like that comes along every day?”

Ahh, Hugh thought as he met her angry gaze. Her ire had darkenedthe amethyst to vivid violet. Now they were getting down to thebones of the matter. “I ken what it is,” he said softly. “Ye’reafraid tae lose again and mayhap tae love again, aye? Ye’re afraidthat that was the best life had tae offer ye.”

“Excuse me?” Sorcha blinked up at him,shifting away from him on the log.

“Ye’re family is right,” he continued. “Yecannae hang on tae a ghostie forever. Dinnae be afeared of movingforward wi’ yer own life. I doubt yer Matt would have wanted ye taewallow in misery for the rest of yer days either.”

Sorcha shook her head disbelievingly. “I’msure I must have misinterpreted something in that nearlyunintelligible brogue of yours.”

“I’m sure ye dinnae misunderstand,” hereturned. “Ye’re afraid, lass, ’tis nothing tae be ashamed of.”

“Really? This coming from the master ofdenial?” she nearly sneered the words.

“Ye’re going tae turn this back on me?” heasked incredulously. “I was only trying tae help.”

“I don’t need your help! I don’t want it!”she shouted, jumping to her feet, her hands fisted at her sides asshe glared down at him. “I can’t believe you of all people have theballs to try to lecture me about fear!”

Hugh ground his teeth, feeling his owntemper flare at her scathing words. “Calm down now, lass.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” she

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