Hatton, Robert Jennings, Marian Ivers and Scott Barrows. Everyone, this is James Marshall, lake area resident and software genius.”
“The James Marshall? EMP software James Marshall?” Luke asked, eyebrows raised.
“The very one,” Crosby said smugly. “He occupies a little lakeside hideaway on occasion, similar to the ones I was telling you about earlier. He loves it there.”
There was a muted chorus of ‘nice to meet you’s, and a once-over from Marian.
Crosby clapped him on the shoulder. “You clean up nice, James.”
“Thanks.”
“Has my sister seen you yet?”
“No, I just arrived.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” He leaned toward James and lowered his voice. “Maybe you can keep old Cooper from sniffing around her all evening.”
James almost snorted beer up his nose. “What’s the matter, Crosby? Don’t you like the professor?”
“In the immortal words of our little sister Spring Violet — ‘he skeeves me out.’” He shrugged. “He’s fine, I guess. I’m not too keen on the idea of him spending so much time with my sister though. Dad, on the other hand, seems to think he’s a great guy.”
“What does Laurel think?”
Crosby rolled his eyes. “Who knows what Laurel thinks? She’s too polite to say anything regardless of whether she likes him or not.”
Crosby gestured across the room with his beer. “There she is. You can ask her yourself.”
He turned, and for the second time that day, James was thunderstruck by the woman he saw. Laurel stood with a group of other artisans, smiling and nodding in conversation. She wore a simple yet stunning blue silk dress that emphasized her willowy figure. Black stilettos accentuated her height and her long legs. She had pinned her hair back on one side, but flaming red waves cascaded down her back in hedonistic bursts of color. James’s mouth went dry, and he felt a nudge at his back.
“Get up there. And close your jaw before you trip over it,” Crosby teased.
James barely heard him. He approached Laurel and stood a few feet away, willing her to look his direction. She stilled as if she sensed him, and then turned so they caught each other’s eye. She stepped away from the crowd and held out her hand. He took it — not in the shaking hands motion of friends, but in the almost-possessive, holding-hands motion of lovers — and enfolded it in his, caressing her fingers with his thumb.
“You’re here.” Her words tumbled out in mild surprise.
“Of course I am.”
“I’m glad . . . to see you.”
“I’m glad you’re glad.”
“How have you been?”
“Fine. Better now.”
Their conversation lagged, and an uneasy smile overtook James’s face. “I don’t think I’ve talked to you since the day of Heather’s accident.”
“No, I guess not.”
“That was awful.” His expression grew somber.
“Yes.” Her face was neutral. How he wished he could read her expressions as easily as he did when they were younger!
He hurried on, worried that she might think he meant the kiss in her kitchen was the awful part. “I can imagine how wiped out you must have been after Heather fell and then all that waiting and worrying by yourself at the hospital.”
She cocked her head and looked at him, a multitude of questions in her eyes.
He forged ahead. “It was an awful day that has apparently resulted in some good, however.”
Her brow furrowed. “What — ?”
“The thing between Heather and John.”
“Oh yes.” She smiled. “Who’d have thunk it?”
“Not me, that’s for sure.”
“Not me either, and I thought I knew John pretty well.”
“Well, I know I knew him pretty well, and I was still surprised. I mean, nothing against Heather . . . at all. I know she’s a great gal, but it surprised me because — ” He stopped, not knowing whether it was the right venue for this comment.
“Because?” she encouraged.
“I don’t know — it’s just that he loved Fiona so much. He was devastated when she died. I don’t know how much he told you about her.”
“Quite a bit, actually.”
“Then I’m sure you know; she was a special girl — beautiful, good, extremely bright. John’s a smart guy and Heather . . . ” He paused. “Well, he and Heather just seem different in some pretty important ways.”
“I see.”
“John found his soul mate in Fiona, and then he lost her. I didn’t expect him to get over that in a matter of a few months.”
Laurel didn’t comment.
“But maybe Heather and John’s differences were what drew them together. I hope it works out for them,” he went on.
“Me too.”
“If anyone deserves happiness, it’s John.”
She smiled again, and