He’d almost slipped—she was sure of it. For a split second before he’d corrected himself, she’d heard the beginning of “I” form on his lips.I need you. The thought sent an unexpected warmth spreading through her, one she had been trying very hard not to think about.
And then there had been his unexpected appearance not only on the ridge, but also at The Roaring Stag. Corbyn Pearce, who by all accounts barely left his property, had come looking for her. He had driven into the village and walked into a public establishment, risking stares and whispers, because he’d wanted to what? Apologize? Make amends? The importance of thatgesture wasn’t lost on her, especially after what Maggie had told her.
***
“There you are,” Maggie called, wiping her hands on a dish towel tucked into the strings of her apron. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d run off for good after whatever had Corbyn Pearce darkening my door this afternoon. He came in here looking for you, all worked up.”
Sadie shrugged off her coat, draping it over the back of a bar stool. “Worked up how?”
Maggie grinned, pouring a glass of red wine without a word and sliding it across the bar.
“He was waiting for me when I got back from shopping,” she told Sadie, a little smirk tugging at her lips. “He was frantic to find out where you had gone.”
Sadie wrapped her fingers around the glass stem, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, before answering, “We had a rather… tense moment earlier. He wanted to apologize. Or rather, offer the closest thing to an apology I’m going to get from him.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Maggie murmured, leaning her elbows on the bar. “He hasn’t crossed through that door since before the accident. You know, when I took over this place about twelve years ago, he’d come in most evenings when he was working on his first novel. Always sat at the same corner table by the window. Polite, but kept to himself.”
“Keeping to himself sounds familiar,” Sadie said wryly.
“Oh, but he was different then,” Maggie insisted. “He was quiet, but he was… approachable. He’d listen to the locals’ stories for hours, jotting notes in that little book of his. Never invasive, just… curious. Observant. Used to help Mr. Daviesbring in firewood when his arthritis was playing up. Walked Mrs. Whitfield’s terrier when she broke her hip.” A soft smile played on Maggie’s lips, and she continued, “Not the sort of things that makes headlines, mind you, but they tell you something about a person’s character.”
Sadie tried to reconcile this image with the man he was now. Perhaps somewhere beneath all his prickly edges was the one Maggie remembered.
“It’s hard to imagine, but I think I saw a bit of that today,” she confided after a moment.
“And?” Maggie asked, her gaze shrewd.
Sadie ran her finger along the glass’s edge, stalling a little while she gathered her thoughts.
“I think that under all that anger is someone who’s been through hell, and is guarding their heart.”
“People are complicated,” Maggie counseled, patting Sadie’s arm. “Fear makes cowards of the best of us sometimes.”
Sadie took another sip of wine, digesting Maggie’s words of wisdom.
“He was different today,” she said. “By the ridge. There was a moment when…” She trailed off, uncertain how to describe the shift she’d felt between them.
“Go on,” Maggie prompted gently.
“He told me my perspective helps,” Sadie said, still slightly amazed. “After weeks of fighting me on every suggestion. And there was this… I don’t know, sincerity? Like for just a second, he let the guard down.”
“Is that so?”
Sadie met Maggie’s knowing gaze, feeling her cheeks heat.
“We’re working together. That’s all.”
“Mmm,” Maggie hummed noncommittally as she refilled Sadie’s glass. “You know, we all comment on him being this recluse, living in his big house on the hill. But I can still seehim sitting right there,” she nodded toward the window seat, “helping old Mrs. Hutchinson with her crossword every Sunday afternoon. Patient as a saint, even when she’d ask him the same clue three times over.”
“I’d pay good money to see that,” Sadie said, and she couldn’t help but smile at the image.
“He’s still in there, you know,” Maggie responded softly. “That man who took the time. The scars didn’t change who he is at his core; they just buried him a bit deeper.”
Sadie swirled the wine in her glass, watching the ruby liquid catch the light.
“I think I saw him today,” she admitted quietly. “Just for a moment.”
“And?” Maggie pressed again, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
