“No,” Kate murmured, frowning. “I’ve been out of circulation for so long, I’m not sure who’s available.”
“No one,” Linda told her in a despondent voice. “And I should know. If you want the truth, I think Nightingale would make an excellent locale for a convent. Have you ever considered the religious life?”
Kate ignored that. “Didn’t I hear Sally Daley mention something about a new guy who recently moved to town? She seemed to think he was single.”
“Eric Wilson. Attorney, mid-thirties, divorced, with a small mole on his left shoulder.”
Kate was astonished. “Good heavens, how did Sally know all that?”
Linda shook her head. “I don’t even want to guess.”
“Eric Wilson.” Kate repeated it slowly, letting each syllable roll off her tongue. She decided the name had a friendly feel, though it didn’t really tell her anything about the man himself.
“Have you met him?” Kate asked her friend.
“No, but you’re welcome to him, if you want. My track record with divorced men isn’t exactly great. The only reason Sally said anything to me was that she assumed you and Luke would be married before the holidays were over.” Linda grimaced. “She thought I’d need her help in finding a date for the wedding.”
A sense of panic momentarily overtook Kate. This wedding nonsense was completely out of hand, which meant she had to come up with another man now.
“There’s always Andy Barrett,” she murmured. Andy worked at the pharmacy and was single. True, he wasn’t exactly a heartthrob, but he was a decent-enough sort.
Linda immediately rejected that possibility. “No one in town would believe you’d choose Andy over Luke.” A smile played across her mouth, as if she found the idea of Kate and Andy together somehow comical. “Andy’s sweet, don’t get me wrong,” Linda amended, “but Luke’s a real man.”
“I’ll think of someone,” Kate murmured, her determination fierce.
Linda started to gather her Thanksgiving notes. “If you’re serious about this, then you may have no choice but to import a man from Portland.”
“You’re kidding, I hope,” Kate groaned.
“Nope. I’m dead serious,” Linda said, shoving everything into her briefcase.
Her friend’s words echoed depressingly through Kate’s mind as she pushed her cart to the frozen-food section of the grocery store later that afternoon. She peered at the TV dinners, trying to choose something for dinner. Her father had dined with Dorothea every night since they’d become engaged, and the wedding was planned for early December.
“The beef burgundy is good,” a resonant male voice said from behind her.
Kate turned to face a tall, friendly-looking man with flashing blue eyes and a lazy smile.
“Eric Wilson,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand.
“Kate Logan,” she said, her heart racing as they exchanged handshakes. It was all Kate could do not to tell him she’d been talking about him only minutes before and that she’d learned he was possibly the only single prospect in town—other than Luke, of course. How bizarre that they should run into each other almost immediately afterward. Perhaps not! Perhaps it was fate.
“The Salisbury steak isn’t half-bad, either.” As if to prove his point, he deposited both the beef burgundy and the Salisbury steak frozen dinners in his cart.
“You sound as though you know.”
“I’ve discovered frozen entrées are less trouble than a wife.”
He frowned as he spoke, so she guessed that his divorce had been unpleasant. Sally would be able to provide the details, and Kate made a mental note to ask her. She’d do it blatantly, of course, since Sally would spread Kate’s interest in the transplanted lawyer all over the county.
“You’re new in town, aren’t you? An attorney?”
Eric nodded. “At your service.”
Kate was thinking fast. It’d been a long time since she’d flirted with a man—if you didn’t count the way she’d behaved at the wedding. “Does that mean I can sue you if the beef burgundy isn’t to my liking?”
He grinned at that, and although her comment hadn’t been especially witty, she felt encouraged by his smile.
“You might have trouble getting the judge to listen to your suit, though,” he told her.
“Judge Webster is my uncle,” she said, laughing.
“And I suppose you’re his favorite niece.”