If Bishop’s twin had lived, perhaps Bishop would better understand the sisters’ situation. They said twins shared a special connection. Maybe Bishop was somehow aware of that connection and missed it more than he knew.
When she’d finished her ice water and Bishop was still on the phone, talking about the sale of something or other, Laura decided to take in some fresh air. She’d had enough of chess for one day.
Outside, the sun spread a warm golden hue over the spires of the eucalypts and pines. She peeled off her cardigan and, marveling at their balance, studied a koala and her baby dozing high up in the fork of a tree. Beyond that clump of gray-green trees lay the rock bricks and planks that made up the northern footbridge.
Her stomach gave a mighty kick. She winced and slid her foot back.
The fall—before and after—she couldn’t recall, but it’d be a long while before she crossed that bridge again. Had she been trying to see something over the edge? Had a lizard scuttled up and scared her from behind? Had she slipped on the dew—
A flash—a fuzzy freeze frame—flicked on in her mind. The image… She couldn’t hold on to it long enough, but the residue of the pain hit her first in the lungs and then lower. Holding her belly, she flinched. When she opened her eyes, her brow was damp with perspiration. She eyed the bridge, shuddered to her toes, and promptly set off in the other direction.
She was headed toward the gazebo when Bishop caught up. The planes of his face were hard in their naturally attractive way, but his blue eyes shone with relief. His hands caught her bare shoulders and urged her near. The heat of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes, left her feeling warm and loved all over.
“I couldn’t find you,” he said in a low, graveled voice. “I was worried.”
“It looked so beautiful out here and I didn’t know how long you’d be on that call. It sounded important.”
His hands slid down her arms then dropped away altogether. A muscle ticked in his jaw before he answered. “I’m thinking of selling the company.”
Laura’s breath caught. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. He was so proud of what he’d built from scratch. He had plans to expand even more.
“When did this happen?”
“I’ve been mulling over it for a while.”
But selling his company was unthinkable. He was so capable and responsible…still she had to ask the obvious question. “Are you in financial trouble?”
He began walking down a slate path lined with gold and lavender wild flowers. “Just thinking I might want to try something new.”
“Do you think you’d be away from home more often? Not that it would matter,” she added quickly. “I’d be okay. It’s just if you were…well, I’ve been thinking about getting a dog. Someone to keep me company through the day.”
He nodded slowly, considering. “I think a dog is a good idea.”
“Really?”
He smiled. His eyes were so bright in the spring sunshine, they glittered like a pair of cut jewels. “We’ll do some research.”
The urge overtook her. She threw her arms around him and kissed his bristled cheek. She loved his weekend shadow, the sexy roughness against her lips, the graze when he gifted her one of his delectable morning kisses.
“For some reason I thought you’d say no.”
“What will you call him?” he asked, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets as they continued down the sweet-smelling path that led to the gazebo. The white lattice was patterned with a riot of cardinal creeper blooms, deep vibrant scarlet in color. Beautifully fragrant, too.
“I’d have to see him, or her, first,” she told him. “I’ve never thought you could name a member of the family until it arrived.”
On their way up to the gazebo platform, his step faltered and Laura gnawed her lip. As lead-ins went, it’d been a clumsy one, but they had to talk about it sometime.
When he sat down on the surrounding bench, she positioned herself close beside him and folded a fallen lock away from his brow.
“I don’t want us to be afraid of what might go wrong,” she said, “when it has to be better to think about everything that can go right.”
When he only looked away, Laura chewed her bottom lip again. After considering her next words, she delivered them as carefully as she could.
“I know it must have been hard when your brother died.”
“We were newborns,” he said, his brow creasing as he found her gaze. “And that has nothing to do with us.”
“I was only trying to talk—” But the line of his jaw was drawn so tight, his eyes suddenly looked so shuttered. Knowing when to back off, she ordered her locked muscles to relax. “I know you don’t like talking about it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Bishop drove a hand through his hair and groaned. She was dead-on. He didn’t like discussing his twin. It dredged up feelings he’d rather not entertain. Feelings of guilt and helplessness and, the real kicker, loss.
But looking at Laura and her bowed head now, Bishop felt something inside of him shift. They’d never really talked about it during their marriage. If she wanted to discuss it now, hell, maybe he ought to. Perhaps something would tip off her memory and he would be on his way—out of the damnable bittersweet mess.
“We were identical,” he began, letting his threaded hands fall between his open thighs. “I got most of the nourishment before we were born. The other twin—”
“Your brother.”
“—died four days later.”
“And you feel bad about that.”
He felt an urge to explain that it wasn’t his fault. That was life and his parents had never held it against him. But they had been the half truths he’d told her the first time.
Hell, his parents had made him live through that time every birthday, every Christmas, first day of school, on Easter egg hunts, at graduation. If only your brother were here. How sad your twin isn’t at your side today.
Okay. He got it. He respected their regrets and dedication to the son they’d lost. But just for once in his life he’d have liked to achieve and be noticed without mention of that incident.
He blew out a breath and admitted, “Yeah. If ever I think about it, I feel…bad.”
Laura was nodding. “My mother felt bad about passing on her heart condition. Until I told her I was so grateful she had me and if the price was having a metal bit in my chest and taking some medication, that wasn’t too high.”
“But when you were conceived your mother didn’t know the risk.” He and Laura had been aware. Therefore they’d had a duty to act responsibly.
“I’m glad my mother didn’t know about her condition,” Laura said. “And she admitted she was glad she didn’t, either. She always said her children were her life.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. What mother wouldn’t be proud to have such a beautiful daughter? And Grace? Well, Grace might be a witch but, after her comment yesterday about second chances, the vote was out. Even if it was too little too late. He wished they’d had her support when it mattered.
“And all this,” he said, getting to the heart of the matter, “is leading up to the fact that you want to have a family the old-fashioned way.”
Her eyes glistened