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“Logan’s been snooping,” Agnes said stiffly.
“He’s an investigator. It’s what he does. Always was far too curious for his own good, poking his nose in where it didn’t belong.” She squeezed Agnes’ hand again. “And as for why I think you and Logan should try being together, well, it’s because I’ve not seen him this interested in a woman since his divorce.”
“Shona—” she started to protest that the woman’s reasoning wasn’t up to much, but Shona cut her off.
“You know, I had a bad childhood too.” She reached for her tea. “I won’t go into the details, but there was abuse. Took me a long time to trust anyone after that, but it’s possible. Don’t let your parents stop you from living a full life. Everybody needs someone to lean on, a partner to get through life with. Whether that’s a friend or a lover, doesn’t matter. We all need someone. Don’t let them take that away from you.”
“I don’t want to talk about my parents. They have nothing to do with my life, and that’s how I like it.”
“I understand. But I’d hate to think you’d never trust anyone. You’re a good girl. You’re strong and capable, and more than a match for any man. Even if you were in a relationship, you’d never let someone neglect you or hurt you. You wouldn’t put up with that from anyone. You aren’t a helpless child anymore. You can do this. I believe in you. And even if the person you settle with isn’t Logan, I still hope you eventually trust someone enough to let them in.”
Agnes found herself turning her hand to hold on to Shona’s. “Why? You hardly know me.”
Shona’s eyes twinkled, just like her son’s did. “The big ball of wool in Margaret’s basement told me.”
Laughter eased the pressure in her chest some.
“What’s funny?” Logan said as he came into the room, scratching his head.
Agnes slid her hand out from under Shona’s and picked up her cutlery.
“Nothing,” Shona said, angling her cheek for a kiss, which Logan promptly gave.
A pang of longing shot through Agnes at the sight. She wanted her morning kiss too. And she didn’t want a nice staid peck on the cheek like he’d given his mother. Warm, dancing eyes met hers, and she couldn’t help the heat that filled her cheeks. Damn man knew what she was thinking.
“You want to have a shower before we head to the hotel?” Logan said as he poured himself a coffee.
He was dressed in a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. Both looked rumpled because he’d slept in them. Beside her. A shiver ran up her spine, and she focused on her food again.
“I’ll grab one there,” she said. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes with me.”
“I can lend you some if you like,” Shona offered.
Agnes smiled at the bright orange jumper Shona wore over lime-colored leggings. “I’d better wear one of my suits, just in case Dougal wants to nitpick.”
“Okay,” Logan said. “I’ll jump in the shower, and then we’ll head out.”
“I have a car, so I don’t need a lift,” Agnes pointed out.
“You don’t have a car,” Logan said. “You have an accident on wheels. We’re taking mine. The roads are icy and the last thing I want is to hear you wrapped that heap around a lamppost.” He looked back at his mother as he sauntered from the room. “Tackle her and confiscate her keys if she tries to leave.” And then he was gone.
When Agnes looked at Shona, the older woman smiled smugly. “What were you saying about people who leave you to care for yourself?”
“You’re exactly like your son,” Agnes complained.
“Thank y
ou.” Shona beamed.
Chapter 19
“Thanks for sorting out the sweatshirts for me,” Agnes said once she was in the car with Logan. He was right—his vehicle was so much better than the heap she’d hired.
He shrugged. “That’s what friends are for, and anyway, we had fun helping.”
A strange thought occurred to her and came out of her mouth before she could censor it. “I’ve never really had any friends.”
He shot her a sidelong glance. “Never?”
