Silver Linings

he ordered. “I can't stand the idea of having to explain myself to these two and Emery Blackwell and Charlotte Vailcourt and your parents and God knows who else happens to think you need protection from me.”
    Mattie grinned wickedly, feeling suddenly light-hearted. “Looks like you'll have to watch your step, won't you, Abbott?”
    “The stress is definitely beginning to take its toll on my good nature.” He drank the remainder of the mineral water in one gulp and made a face. “Christ, this stuff is awful.”
    “Why drink it?” Flynn asked curiously.
    “Mattie thinks it's better for me than soda pop.”
    “What you need is a good cup of espresso,” Flynn said. “Come on, I'll buy you one. I'm celebrating.”

    He had been joking back in Mattie's office, Hugh told himself later as he stood watching her choose fresh broccoli at a stall in the Pike Place Market. But the truth was, he was getting a bit stressed out.
    Maybe stressed out was not quite the right phrase. Maybe what he was feeling was a little old-fashioned guilt.
    Hugh did not like guilt. For most of his life it had been an alien emotion. Usually he was sure enough of himself and of his own personal code of honor that he did not experience guilt. Regrets, yes, but not guilt.
    He knew his present uneasiness had not been caused by the rash of folks, such as Emery Blackwell and Ariel, who had felt compelled to warn him to treat Mattie well. Hugh already knew he was going to treat her well. Hell, he would protect her with his life, if necessary, and he would see to it she never went without. When it came to the basics, he was sure he would make a good husband for her in the old-fashioned sense.
    The problem was that while parts of Mattie were delightfully old-fashioned, there were other parts of her that were very modern. Very sophisticated. Very New Woman.
    Hugh wondered again, as he did more and more frequently these days, if his long-range goal of dragging Mattie away to the islands was really the right thing to do. She looked so at home here in Seattle, he thought as he watched her move from the broccoli to the piles of red, orange, yellow, and purple peppers.
    Damn it, she was happy here. He could hardly deny it. She was also financially established here. And independent. She had friends, family, a career, and a lifestyle. She mingled with artists, writers, and businesspeople, all of whom accorded her a lot of professional respect.
    Compared to all that, Hugh knew he did not have a lot to offer out on St. Gabriel. Silk was right. The days of dragging intelligent, accomplished women off to the frontiers were over.
    It had all been a lot easier in the old days. Hell, it would have been a lot easier last year if he'd had the sense to take Mattie up on her offer the first time around.
    “Wait until you taste these peppers sautéed in a little olive oil and with some olives and capers,” Mattie said in a confidential tone as she paid the produce dealer. “Fantastic. It'll be great served with focaccia or this great potato and cabbage soup I make.”
    “Mattie?” Hugh took the sack of broccoli and peppers from her as they started toward another stall.
    “ Hmmm ?” Her attention was clearly on dinner.
    He did not know what to ask or how to ask it. He had been so sure of himself until now. So sure she would come with him when the time arrived. He smiled crookedly. “I should have taken you out to the islands with me last year.”
    “Who knows?” she said quietly. “Maybe things turned out for the best after all.”
    “No,” he stated categorically. “They did not. We wasted one goddamned entire year.”
    She did not respond to that.

    Mattie sensed that something had changed in Hugh's attitude toward her. She could not put her finger on it, but it made her uneasy. She wondered if his limited patience was finally at an end. He was probably getting ready to give her an ultimatum, she thought as she watched him pour her a glass of wine.
    “How's the job going?” she asked as she sliced the multihued peppers in lacy circles.
    “It's okay.” Hugh sat on a stool at the counter hunched over his glass of wine and watched her prepare dinner.
    “You don't sound exactly fired up with enthusiasm.”
    “Like I said. It's okay.”
    “How much longer will it take you to get a security plan worked up for Aunt Charlotte?” She was fishing for an answer to the question of how much time she had left, Mattie realized. But she was afraid to ask Hugh