“Always,” he replied, making his way toward her. With his rugged five o’clock shadow, he exuded a newfound charm that she found irresistible. She preferred this more unkempt look to his previously clean-cut appearance. She felt happier than she had in years, which made the thought of them going their separate ways even harder, but she couldn’t think about that right now. She needed to enjoy every ounce of the moment.
Approaching her from behind, he wrapped his hands around her hips, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her neck. She spun around, shooting him a playful glare, followed by a mischievous grin.
“I know, I know. Morning breath,” he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender before settling onto one of the stools by the island. Nora poured two cups of tea and joined him.
“If they clear the roads, you’ll leave tomorrow?” he inquired.
“I need to head back to the city if we can manage to get out of here, that is,” she replied, realizing the idea had also been plaguing his mind this morning.
“What are you going to tell your parents?”
Nora paused, blowing gently on her tea. She was at a crossroads, uncertain of what path to take here. Though she missed the bakery and her parents, returning to her old way of life simply didn’t feel like her destiny.
“I honestly don’t know,” Nora admitted, taking a long sip from her mug.
“You said you don’t want to take over the bakery, but what do you want to do instead? I’m sure if your parents know what you’re passionate about, they will support you.”
“I’m not sure I’m passionate about anything,” she admitted as a sorrowful expression fell across her face.
“That’s definitely not true.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking up from her mug.
“I see a whole lot of passion when you are writing away in that notebook of yours. I might have taken a peek inside the other day. Your poems are witty and beautiful,” Alistair said, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.
“You read my poems?” she said, pulling her hands away quickly, angry at the fact he was snooping in her things.
“I know it was a stupid thing to do, but I was hoping to understand you a bit better. Here was this beautiful woman so unsure of herself, and I wanted to understand why.”
Nora’s shoulders softened, and she looked up at his sincere eyes. He thought she was beautiful and wanted to understand her? Even before they had warmed up to each other? Had he felt that same initial pull that she had?
“You really think my poems are good? I only write them forfun or to help me calm down when my mind is feeling lost. It’s my way of processing my emotions, I guess,” she admitted.
“Yes. Not to mention, your other writing is quite good. Ever considered being a journalist?” he teased.
Nora had never considered writing as anything other than a pastime, but the more she thought about it, the more Alistair was right. She did find passion in it; writing always brought her comfort and a kind of joy that she couldn’t find elsewhere. Could she make a go of writing in some way? Alistair had seen something in her that she hadn’t seen in herself. Colin’s words echoed in her mind:She makes me believe in myself and sees me in a way no one else ever has; that is how I know she is the one. The idea made her heart flip-flop in her chest.
“What about you? Do you want to go back to the magazine?” she asked, shifting the attention back to him.
He paused for a moment before responding. “You know what? I honestly don’t know, either,” he admitted with a chuckle.
“We’re just two lost souls,” Nora said as she rose from her seat, reaching for a piece of bread from the bag. She tore it into tiny pieces and added them to a bowl along with half a banana, setting it down on the floor for Lochland. The dog bounded over, sniffing at the food before eagerly devouring it.
“Wow, he was hungry. We better get him some dog food as soon as we get out of here, poor thing,” Nora remarked, bending down to scratch behind Lochland’s ears. “Speaking of, what are we going to do with him? I can’t take him back to America,” she added, looking at Alistair with pleading eyes.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I have time for a dog,” Alistair confessed, looking down at Lochland. The dog licked his hand, and Alistair stroked his head, causing the dog’s tail to wag furiously.
“You’re kidding, right? Look at you two. You’re meant for each other,” Nora insisted, hoping to persuade him. She couldn’t bear the thought of Lochland ending up in a shelter somewhere. Alistair looked down at the dog, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Nora knew she had made her point.
“Well, this little guy probably needs to go out, and I should check on Betty. Her fire has probably burned down by now. You should stay off that ankle even though it’s feeling better. When I get back, how about we make some food and ravage that bookcase again,” Alistair said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Nora laughed as he stood up, walked over to the door, and pulled his jacket off the peg board revealing her scarf underneath.
“Alistair, can you hand me my scarf?” she asked as he put on his jacket. She had forgotten about the brooch until now and wanted to inspect it.
“Sure,” he said, walking it over to her. “You cold?”
“No, yesterday when I was reading one of the letters. Colin mentioned giving my gram a brooch, and I realized I had it pinned on my scarf,” Nora said, turning the scarf over in her hands until she found it. “He called it a sweetheart brooch,” she said, showing him the silver dove.
