Page 84 of Winter’s Fire

“I thought that might be the case, in spite of our earlier discussion on the matter. May I offer you some advice?”

Logan shrugged—he had a feeling he’d get it anyway, no matter what he said.

“Give her the time I mentioned. She’ll be completely safe where she’s going. You don’t need me to tell you she’s had a tough time, and she’s facing some big decisions. She needs to adjust and consider all her options.”

“I don’t think you understand—”

“I do, Logan. More than you know. If you go after her now, confront her with another decision, she’ll make a bolt for it, but if you give her a chance to miss you, you’ll take away a lot of her motivation to run.”

Frustrated though he was by the stance his boss had taken, Logan understood why he’d taken it. There was no way Sir Guy was going to reveal her whereabouts, but he’d given Logan a clue—the safest place she could possibly be was with her family.

In addition, Lucy herself had let slip a fair amount of personal information along the way. With a little research, he was sure he could come up with something to guide him in the right direction.

He’d find her. It might just take some time. Because whatever Sir Guy might think, the last thing Lucy needed was space.

What she needed… was him.

~~*~~

One more left turn, and she’d be home.

All things considered, the journey north had been relatively easy, and with less than half a mile to go, she could almost taste the slice of homemade cake her mother had promised her, along with a good, strong cup of tea. Proper northern tea, not that wishy-washy stuff they brewed down south.

Only when she’d driven away from her apartment had Lucy realised just how stressed she’d felt and why. It was all to do with Logan, and a foolish wish—in spite of everything—for him to turn up on her doorstep. The height of stupidity on so many levels—even if he’d known where she lived, he’d never come to her.

It didn’t matter, because she never wanted to see him again.

Right. And how many times would she have to tell herself that before she believed it? What she wanted was irrelevant—for the sake of her own peace of mind, the path she’d chosen was necessary, and it was right.

“You’re home now, and there’s no way in hell he’s turning up here!” she muttered to herself as she unfastened the seatbelt, having parked up in the spacious yard, across from the house.

“Oh-Em-Gee!”

The eardrum-busting yell came from the direction of the house, and yet again, Lucy rolled her eyes and shook her head at her childhood nickname. Before she could even get out of the car, two of her brothers were loping towards her—Adam, the oldest of the four, with his twin, Ben, in hot pursuit. A second later, she was enveloped in a double bear hug.

“Put me down, you idiots, and let me get my bag!”

“Shut up and get in the house. Mum’s waiting for you. We’ll take care of your bag and the car.”

Lucy gave a mental groan—they were starting already. And she’d come home voluntarily? The insanity gene must have finally kicked in. Good job she loved them.

Leaving her siblings to fight over who got her bag and who moved her car, she headed towards the house… where her mother was indeed waiting for her at the doorway, a figure as far removed from the stereotypical image of a farmer’s wife as it was possible to be. Rachel Winter was an older, slightly more slender version of her daughter, always smiling, and beautiful in a way that only came with maturity. She greeted Lucy with a fierce hug.

“Welcome home, sweetie. Come and get settled in. Kettle’s on, and I’ve saved you that slice of cake.”

“Mum, it’s great to be home.” Lucy rested her head against her mother’s shoulder, using the action to camouflage the foolish tears that were starting to make her eyes sting. “You actually managed to save some from the gannets?”

“Hey, I resemble that remark!”

James, her third brother and elder of the second set of twins, ambled through from the kitchen, with a half-demolished slab of cake in one hand and a pint mug of tea in the other. He gave her a grin, and took another huge bite out of the cake. Lucy blinked away the threatened tears, and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked. “And Sam? Is he around?”

Rachel disengaged herself from the embrace. “Your father’s up at the Top Twenty—should be back any time now—and Sam’s out for a run. All my children home for my birthday—I should contact the local TV station and have them broadcast the news!”

Her mother was a great believer in family celebrations, and one of her major bugbears was the fact that her sons’ jobs took them far and wide on such a frequent but irregular basis that their attendance could never be guaranteed.

Lucy had always been the one their mother could rely on to be there, which was why she wasn’t looking forward to sharing the news of her imminent change of career. Although… getting one over on all four of her brothers by joining the elite unit before any of them was kind of sweet.