trip to Scotland to interview the man.” Andrew sighed, staring at his hand, although he clearly wasn’t really seeing the cards. “But I’m happy here in Everland. I don’t particularly want to go to Scotland, even in the spring, if it would mean leaving my family any longer.”
“And your new lady friend,” Max teased.
Andrew glanced up and caught Christa’s eye. “And my new lady friend.”
Since he was looking at her—and she was trying her damnedest not to blush—Christa blurted, “She sounds nice.”
“She’s the most interesting, most beautiful, woman I’ve ever met,” Andrew said seriously, holding her gaze.
Beautiful?
She swallowed. “She—she must be young and rich and carefree then.”
She wasn’t certain if she was teasing him or daring him to defy her words. He held her gaze and shook his head slowly.
“She’s not young, but not old either. She’s not rich, but she’s worked hard for everything she does have, and that makes her laudable. And intriguing. She’s smart and witty, and her eyes light up when she’s around me. She makes my heart happy.”
Oh. Oh my.
The words, spoken to “Chris,” were the most wonderful things Christa had ever heard.
But it was Max who broke the silence, clearing his throat. “That’s beautiful,” he said simply. “I’d like that one day.”
Andrew broke eye contact with her to send a gentle smile Max’s way. “You will, my friend. Maybe sooner than you know.”
This was her cue! How come she couldn’t make her voice work?
“Do you—” Her throat was dry, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Due to her lack of sleep, or was it because of Andrew’s recent words? She took a hasty sip of the whiskey in front of her, cleared her throat, then tried again. “Do you have your eye on any particular lady?”
“Nah,” Max drawled, his attention on the cards he held. “There’s been plenty of interesting ladies in Everland over the last few years, but they’ve all found love with my friends.”
Was this the sort of thing men talked about while playing cards? Christa had never experienced it before, that was for sure, but she knew Max was a kindhearted young man, who wore his heart on his sleeve.
“How about Greta Doktor?” Andrew suggested, and Max winced.
“She’s awfully young.” It was clear Max had an opinion—a negative one—about a relationship with Greta, whoever she was, but he was too polite to say what he really thought, even as he tossed out his discards. “Three please.”
Barely paying attention to the game, Christa dealt him three cards off the top. “There’s got to be other single women in town.” She pretended to think about it. “I recall hearing your sister-in-law— What’s her name?” she tried to make her voice light and nonchalant.
“Mabel? Roy Jr.’s wife?” Max offered.
“Yeah, doesn’t she have a sister?”
Christa kept her eyes on her hand, but her attention was on the young man across the table as she held her breath.
But Max just shrugged. “Sibyl Miller, yeah. She’s nice.” When Christa—giving into the urge—looked up, Max winked at her. “She’s pretty and still available if you’re interested.”
What the—?
Oh, yeah, Max thought she was a man.
Ducking her head, Christa tried to shadow her expression with the brim of her hat, hoping he didn’t see how flummoxed she was.
What kind of response was that? Was Max interested in Sibyl or not?
Andrew—bless him—had either picked up on her confusion or wanted clarification for himself. “So…you’re not?”
“Not what?”
“Not interested in her, since you’re trying to match her up with my friend Chris here?”
Max burst into laughter. “That makes me sound like a matchmaker, doesn’t it?” He shrugged, still chuckling, and tossed his hand down onto the green baize, as if uninterested in the game anymore. “I confess I’ve done my share of introducing, and I’ve even offered some friendly advice to my friends when they needed it.”
Andrew’s brow twitched. “So you’re a matchmaker?”
He glanced at Christa as if to say, “Him too?” but she just shook her head slightly, warning him not to give her away.
Max blew out a breath, which sounded more like a sigh, and ran both hands through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. “I dunno. I just want my friends to be happy.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I want to be happy.”
“And you don’t think Sibyl could make you happy?” she asked, a little too eager.
Max dragged his hands over his short, wiry curls again—forward, then back—as he winced. “Sibyl’s a nice girl. Pretty too, to be honest. I’ve known her and