Page 27 of A Second Chance for Love

“Shhh,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

“No, it’s all right,” she said. Oddly, that was the truth. It was cathartic to speak about it after all this time.

“Did you love him?”

It was not a question she thought a man like him would ask—he did not seem the sort who even believed in love—and it surprised her. She turned onto her side; this conversation was too interesting to not be face-to-face, even if they could not see one another very well in the near darkness. “I thought I did.”

“But you were wrong?”

Again he surprised her. Who would have thought he would ask such a thing? And why did he even care?

“I loved like a younger person loves, with emotion rather than one’s brain.”

“That is an interesting distinction. I would have thought love was always emotional.”

“You’ve never—” she stopped aware of the delicate direction in which she was headed. The last thing he would want is somebody—a virtual stranger—probing the subject of his dead wife.

“Been in love?” He didn’t sound angry or sad, just contemplative. “No, I don’t believe so. I can sense that you are surprised,” he said, and Oona didn’t deny it. “My marriage was one of necessity rather than love. Although of course I cared for my wife.” He paused and then asked, “Tell me, if you could do it all over again—change the decisions you’ve made—would you do it?”

It would have been easy to say yes—and that was certainly her first thought. But then she saw Katie’s precious face. “No.”

“Really? You wouldn’t go back and make a different choice? One that didn’t cause you pain?”

“That seems like an easy question to answer, but one small change would mean an entirely different life—wouldn’t it?” And it would certainly mean no Katie.

He chuckled.

“What?” she asked.

“We have become philosophical.”

Oona smiled. “Would you go back and change your decision?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation. “I agree with you—one different fork in the road would have led to a different destination.”

“And you like your life.” I

“And I like my life,” he agreed. “Tell me,” he said, “You said you had plans this week. What were you going to do if you weren’t here? Or is that too personal a question?”

“I was going to visit friends.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Ah.”

Oona had no idea what that meant. As much as she knew about Justin Taylor’s past, she still had no idea of what he thought. She rolled onto her back and stared into the blackness overhead. What a strange journey this was turning out to be.

Eleven

Oona woke with a start, her eyes darting around the dimly lighted room, struggling to recall where she was.

In bed at a farmhouse. With Juss.

Her head whipped to the right, but the bed was empty.

She pushed back the covers and put on her dressing gown, a garment Juss had chosen, its creamy lace and silk making her blush just looking at it.

Oona scoffed at her foolishness. She’d slept with the man and he’d clearly been able to resist her, silky lacy garment or not.

She pushed aside the heavy drape and sucked in a breath. It was a magical wonderland, the pale lemon sunrise causing everything in sight to sparkle as if diamonds, rather than snow, had fallen—continued to fall. Something moved in her peripheral vision and she turned to see Juss and his barrel-shaped coachman slogging through the snow from the big white barn.