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“We are not discussing me. I am too busy mapping.” Reena sounded much too defensive to her own ears. “I have no time for love.”
Brigid laid a gentle hand on Reena’s arm. “Love finds everyone.”
Her response was curt and defensive. “That is nonsense, and I do not wish to discuss me. I want to know what you think of Magnus.” She had not intended to be blunt, but now that the words were out, she was relieved.
Brigid took no offense; she knew Reena too well. “What about Magnus?”
“Do you find him appealing?”
Brigid stood and went to the hearth to check the biscuits. “What woman would not? He is a handsome one.” With a thick cloth in her hand, she moved the pan of biscuits from the hearth to a wooden board on the table.
“He needs to love—”
Brigid interrupted with a sense of excitement. “Aye, he needs a special woman.”
“I thought the same myself.” Reena was pleased her friend agreed. “A woman that will understand him—”
“And who he is, for he is no ordinary man himself—he is the Legend.”
“Aye, and much is expected of him.”
Brigid separated the biscuits with a knife and moved them to a wooden platter. “She would need to have patience and strength.”
“Two good traits not every woman possesses, though you do.”
Brigid was quick to disagree. “Nonsense, it is you who has the strength, and patience when necessary.”
Reena laughed and reached for a biscuit. “Patience is a skill I must learn.”
“You have patience. How can you possibly map without patience? The work is tedious at times, and yet I see you sit hour after hour hunched over, quill in hand, finely detailing land, buildings, faces.”
“That is different. I love my work and therefore—”
“You are patient and you take your time, no matter how tedious, and it is all because youloveyour work,” Brigid finished.
“Of course.”
“Then if you love someone, will you not be patient with him?”
“You understand love because you loved,” Reena said.
Brigid sighed, and the hint of a smile she wore faded. “Aye, I loved strongly and doubt I will ever find such a love again.”
“Do you not want to?”
Tears glistened in Brigid’s eyes.
Reena grabbed her friend’s hand and gave a comforting squeeze. “I am foolish for asking such a question.”
“Nay,” Brigid said, letting a tear fall. “You are a good friend, and I cry, for I miss John very much, and I cry because I miss loving him and being loved. And I cry because part of me wishes to love again and part of me is fearful of loving again.” She shook her head. “I make no sense.”
Reena squeezed her hand again. “You make good sense, and I am glad to hear that you want to love again. You will meet someone special. John would want you to.”
“Aye, he was a good man and so unselfish,” Brigid said. “I will never find another man like him.”
“Nay, you will not, but you will find a good man, and that is what matters.” Reena had felt her friend’s pain when she had lost her husband, and she felt it now, and it saddened her to know that Brigid continued to hurt. She needed to fill her life with love again; it was the only cure for her empty heart.
“We both need to find good men,” Brigid said, wiping away the stubborn tears that continued to fall. “It is time we both love.”
