She tugged her hand, and he wondered what she’d do if he tightened his grasp, if she’d lose her composure. Instead he released her and she held out her arms for his father. “Hello, Leo. It’s been a while.”

The older man stepped forward and hugged her; his old hands patted her back as if she were a child. As they had Sebastian when he’d been a child. “You shouldn’t stay away so long,” Leo said.

“Sometimes I need a break.” Clare leaned back. “A long break.”

“Your mother isn’t that bad.”

“Not to you.” She took a few steps backward and her hands fell to her sides. “I suppose you couldn’t help but overhear my conversation about Lonny.” Her attention remained fixed on Leo, as if she had dismissed Sebastian. As if he wasn’t in the same room, standing so close he could see tiny stray wisps at her hairline.

“Yes. I’m not sorry he’s gone,” Leo said, lowering his voice a fraction and giving her a knowing look. “I always suspected there was something a little light in the loafers about him.”

If the old man had known that Clare’s fiancé was gay, Sebastian wondered how it was that Clare hadn’t figured it out.

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being…you know…funny that way, but if a man has a preference for…ahh…other men, he shouldn’t pretend he likes the ladies.” Leo placed a comforting hand on Clare’s shoulder. “That’s not right.”

“You knew too, Leo?” She shook her head and continued to ignore Sebastian. “Why was it so obvious to everyone but me?”

“Because you wanted to believe him, and some men are tricky. You have a kind heart and gentle nature, and he took advantage of that. You have a lot to offer the right man. You’re beautiful and successful, and someday you’ll find someone worthy of you.”

Sebastian hadn’t heard the old man string that many consecutive sentences together since he’d been in town. At least not when he’d been within hearing distance.

“Ahh.” Clare tilted her head to one side. “You are the sweetest man alive.”

Leo beamed, and Sebastian had a sudden overwhelming desire to knock Clare off her pins, to pull her perfect ponytail or throw mud on her and mess her up like he did when she used to irritate him when they were kids. “I told your mother and my father that I ran into you the other night at the Double Tree,” he said. “It was a real shame you had to leave and we didn’t get to, ahh…chat a little more.”

Clare finally turned her attention to Sebastian and, through the fake little smile curving her full pink lips, said, “Yes. Truly one of the biggest regrets of my life.” She looked back at Leo and asked, “How’s the latest carving?”

“It’s almost done. You should come and see it.”

Sebastian shoved his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. She’d changed the subject and dismissed him again. He’d let her change the subject, for now. But he’d be damned if he let her pretend he wasn’t in the room. He leaned his behind against the sideboard and asked, “What carving?”

“Leo carves the most fabulous wildlife.”

Sebastian hadn’t known that. Of course, he’d seen them around the carriage house, but he hadn’t known his father carved them.

“Last year he entered one of his ducks in the Western Idaho Fair and won. What kind of duck was it, Leo?”

“A shoveler drake.”

“It was beautiful.” Clare’s face lit up as if she’d carved it herself.

“What did you win?” Sebastian asked his father.

“Nothing.” Color rose up Leo’s neck above the collar of his beige shirt. “Just a blue ribbon, is all.”

“A huge blue ribbon. You’re too modest. The competition was stiff. Veni vidi vici.”

Sebastian watched the flush creep into his father’s cheeks. “I came, I saw, I kicked some bird-carving ass?”

“Well,” Leo said as he looked down at the carpet, “it wasn’t anything like the important awards you win, but it was nice.”

Sebastian had been unaware that his father knew about his journalistic awards. He didn’t recall mentioning them the few times they’d spoken throughout the years, but he must have said something.

Joyce entered the dinning room wearing all black, like the angel of doom, and put an end to the discussion of ducks and awards. “Hmm,” she said, and pointed to the sideboard. “Now that I see it, I’m not sure I like it there.” She pushed a side of her short gray bob behind her ear with one hand and twisted the pearl necklace around her throat with the other. “Well, I’ll have to think about it.” She turned to the three people in front of her and placed her palms on her bony hips. “I’m glad we’re all in the same room because I’ve an idea.” She looked at her daughter. “In case you’ve forgotten, Leo turns sixty-five on Saturday, and next month marks his thirtieth year of employment with us. As you know, he is invaluable and practically a member of the family. In certain respects, much more than Mr. Wingate ever was.”

“Mother,” Clare warned.

Joyce held up one slim hand. “I had thought to put together something next month to mark both occasions, but I really think that since Sebastian is in town, we should put together a small gathering of Leo’s friends this weekend.”

“We?”

“This weekend?” Sebastian hadn’t planned to stay through the weekend.

Joyce turned to Clare. “I know you’ll want to help with the arrangements.”

“Of course I’ll help as much as I can. I work most days until four, but after that I’m free.”

“Surely you can take a few days off.”

Clare looked as if she might argue, but at the last moment she pasted one of her fake smiles on her face. “Not a problem. I’ll be happy to do whatever I can.”

“I don’t know.” Leo shook his head. “It sounds like a lot of trouble, and Sebastian doesn’t know when he might be leavin’.”

“I’m sure he can stay a few more days.” Then the woman who’d once banished him from her land like a queen asked, “Can’t you please stay?”

He opened his mouth to tell her no, but something else came out instead. “Why not?” he heard himself say.

Why not? There were several good reasons why not. First, he wasn’t sure more time wouldn’t make his relationship with his father less awkward. Second, his Newsweek article obviously wasn’t going to get written at his father’s kitchen table. Third, he had to deal with his mother’s estate, although calling it an estate was a stretch. The fourth and fifth good reasons stood in front of him: one was clearly relieved by his decision, the other annoyed and still pretending he was invisible.

“Wonderful.” Joyce brought her hands together and placed her fingers beneath her chin. “Since you’re here, Clare, we can get started right now.”

“Actually, Mother, I need to leave.” She turned to Sebastian and asked, “Would you walk me out?”

Suddenly he wasn’t invisible after all. He was sure Clare had something to say about the other night, some blank spots that she wanted him to fill in for her, and he debated whether to leave her hanging. In the end he was curious about what she might ask. “Sure.” He pushed away from the sideboard and pulled his hands from his pockets. He followed her from the dining room, the silver heels of her shoes making tiny tap tap sounds across the kitchen tile.

Sebastian walked down the stairs first and opened the back door for her. His gaze moved from the blue of her eyes to her slicked-back hair. As a kid her hair had always looked painful. As a woman it looked like dark silk that needed to be messed up. “You look different,” he said.

The sleeve of her suit brushed the front of his T-shirt as she passed. “I wasn’t exactly at my best Saturday night.”

He chuckled and shut the door behind them. “I meant, you look different from when you were a kid. You used to wear thick glasses.”

“Oh. I had Lasik surgery about eight years ago.” She looked down at her feet as they walked beneath an old oak tree toward the garage. A breeze played with the leaves above their head, and shadows fluttered in her hair and across the side of her face. “How much of the conversation with my mother did you overhear?” she asked as they stepped from the lawn and onto the stone driveway.

“Enough to know that your mother didn’t take the news about Lonny very well.”

“Actually, Lonny is the perfect man for my mother.” They stopped by the back bumper of her Lexus. “Someone to arrange the flowers, who won’t bother her in the bedroom.”

“Sounds like an employee.” Like my father, he thought.

She placed a hand on the car and looked at the back of the house. “I’m sure you’ve guessed why I asked you to walk out here with me. We need to talk about what happened the other night.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to say more but nothing came out. She lifted her hand from the back of the Lexus, then set it back down again. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

He could help her out. Clear things up real fast and tell her they hadn’t slept together, but it wasn’t his job to make her life easier. One thing he’d learned from his years as a journalist was to just sit tight and listen. He leaned his hip into the car, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. Several thin strips of sunlight picked out deep auburn strands in her brown hair, and the only reason he could think why he even noticed was because he was trained to notice small details. It was his job.

“I’m guessing we met in the bar at the Double Tree,” she began again.

“That’s right. You were throwing back Jägermeister with some guy wearing a backward ball cap and a wife beater.” Which was the truth. Then he broke his just-sit-back-and-listen rule and added a little lie for fun. “He had a nose ring and was missing a few teeth.”

“Oh God.” She pulled her fingers into a fist. “I’m not sure I want to know every detail. I mean, I probably should-up to a point anyway. It’s just that…” She paused and swallowed hard. Sebastian’s gaze slid from her mouth, down her throat, to the top button of her blouse. She was wound tight, but there was another side of her. One he’d seen the other night. One that didn’t pull her hair back and string pearls around her neck before noon. He wondered if she was wearing that pink bustier beneath her bland suit. It had been dark in the hotel room, and he hadn’t gotten a real good look at it before she’d whipped it off.