“Nor did you, apparently. Why did you leave, Lauren?”
“Because I wanted to open the shop.”
“But you could have opened a shop in Bennington.”
She shook her head. “Too small a market.”
“So you’re going for the big time.”
“I want the shop to be a success, yes,” she said on a defensive note. “I may not aspire to put out one profound treatise after another the way Mom and Dad have, but that doesn’t mean I can’t aim to do what I do well.”
There was a wistfulness to Matt’s smile. “Now youdosound like Brad. He was so determined….” A flicker of uncertainty crossed his brow.
“So determined …?”
It was a while before Matt finished his sentence, and then it was with care. “To be successful. Recognized. I’m not sure he realized it, or realized what was driving him, but as often as he claimed that he was doing his own thing and didn’t care what his family thought, I think he was kidding himself.”
“Was he happy, Matt?”
Matt had to consider that. “In a way, yes.”
Peering down at the bits of lemon pulp clinging to the sides of her cup, Lauren spoke more slowly. “All we were told about the accident was that he was supervising some blasting and got caught in the mess. Was there … anything more to it?”
“That was it.”
He’d answered quickly and with finality. Not knowing why, Lauren was taken aback. “You saw him right after?”
“At the hospital.” His tone was clipped. As he went on, its harshness eased. “Brad was lucid for a time, but between the internal injuries and everything else—well, maybe it was for the best. If he’d lived—and the chances of that were slim from the start—he would have been a quadraplegic. I don’t think he would have been able to bear that.”
“No,” she whispered, and when she looked up, her eyes were moist. “I feel guilty about it sometimes.”
“Guilty?”
“Everything I have now—the shop, the farmhouse, this—” she gestured broadly toward herself “—has come from the money he left me. Did you know that?”
Matt put his hand on her shoulder and massaged it gently. His voice was much, much softer, his focus shifted. “That was Brad’s wish. I was the one who passed it on to the lawyer. Given the circumstances, Brad gained a measure of peace from it.”
Lauren nodded, then somehow couldn’t stop the overflow of words. “If it hadn’t been for Brad, I’d probably still be back in Bennington. Even aside from the money, his death was a turning point for me. For the first time in my life, I stopped to think of my own mortality, of what I’d have to my credit when the time came, of what I’d be leaving behind. That was when I decided to move to Boston and open the shop. I only wish Brad could know how much better I feel about myself now.”
“It’s enough that you know, Lauren. If Brad were here to see you, I’m sure he’d be proud.”
She looked timidly at Matt, then away, and took a long, shuddering breath. “It’s too bad we can’t have it both ways—too bad I can’t have what I do and have Brad alive to see it.”
Slipping his arm across her back, Matt drew her to his side. His warmth was the comfort she needed. “Life is cruel that way, filled with choice and compromise. Even those who reach the heights make sacrifices along the way. The best we can do is to decide exactly how much we’re prepared to give up and move on from there.”
As she raised her gaze to his, her cheek brushed his shoulder. It seemed a perfectly natural gesture. “But that’s a negative view.”
“It’s realistic.”
“Maybe I’m more of a romantic, then. I want to focus on the goals and face the hurdles as I come to them.”
He shrugged. “And I want to be prepared for the hurdles. It’s just a different approach. Who’s to say which one is better?”
She didn’t answer. Her gaze was suddenly locked with his, lost in his, and she struggled to cope with the intensity. He was a virtual stranger, yet she’d told him things she’d never told another soul. Was it the fact that he was a link to her brother, or that he was a good listener, or that he’d shared his own thoughts with her? She’d been wary of him at first; she still was, in some respects. And yet … and yet she was drawn to him….
The sudden blast of the boat’s horn made them both jump. They looked around to find the bulk of the passengers crowded on the other side of the deck, waving to a passing tall ship. Without releasing her, Matt moved to join them.
“Impressive,” he breathed, taking in the towering masts and ancient fittings of the proud vessel. “Too bad she’s not under sail.”
