Single Father: Wife and Mother Wanted. Sharon Archer

that was one deception off her conscience.

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘For what? I didn’t do anything.’ Worse, she had a nagging concern that her arrival might have precipitated the attack. Though there was nothing concrete to confirm her suspicion. ‘She had everything under control.’

      ‘I know. But I like knowing someone was here with her.’

      Caitlin hesitated a moment. ‘Is she well enough to have guests? I’d rather not stay if you think it’ll put her under too much stress.’

      ‘She manages her condition pretty well.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Besides, I don’t think I’d dare try to stop her running the bed and breakfast now. There’s nothing she enjoys more than a houseful of guests to pamper.’

      Guilt made Caitlin’s smile feel strained. She wasn’t just a guest, she was the bearer of bad tidings. Why had her father turned his back on his sister and this wonderful ancestral home for more than half a lifetime? He’d swapped the certainty of belonging for a nomadic life with her mother.

      And yet, in the last days of his illness, it was this place and his sister that his thoughts had returned to—family that he’d left behind all those years ago. Would Doreen want to know the news that her younger brother was dead? Was she even well enough to handle it? No possibility now of reconciliation.

      ‘So you staying here is a happy coincidence, isn’t it?’ Matt’s voice rumbled into her musing.

      ‘A happy coincidence?’ she said blankly, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation. His comment, coming on the heels of her thoughts, jolted her badly. ‘I—I’m sorry. What were you saying?’

      Was he toying with her? Did he suspect there was more to her visit?

      ‘I was wondering how I’d be able to track you down.’

      ‘Why—why would you want to do that?’

      There was a small, charged silence.

      ‘I have something you’ll want.’ Laughter and something warmer lurked in his eyes as he leaned on the arm of the sofa and watched her.

      Flirting. There was nothing sinister going on. He was just flirting with her, and her conscience had imbued his words with deeper overtones.

      Just flirting? she mocked herself silently. A pulse thumped frantically in her throat and it was all she could do not to put a protective hand up to cover it.

      ‘Is that so?’ She swallowed, willing herself to relax. ‘I can’t imagine what it might be.’

      ‘You can’t imagine…anything?’ His mouth tilted into a small teasing smile. ‘I’m stricken.’

      ‘Sure, and don’t you look it,’ she said, struggling to keep her expression bland.

      ‘Perhaps if you tried harder, something might come to mind.’

      ‘Matt, could you—?’ Doreen’s head appeared around the door. ‘Oh, Caitlin. Sorry, dear, I didn’t realise you were in here as well.’ The older woman looked from one to the other and back again.