Page 55 of Miss Ashbury and the Anatomy of Mending a Heart

He shrugged, his eyes back on the dim road before them. “Do you?”

The question jarred her, until she remembered that he already knew her secrets. Ironically, he was the only one with whom she could freely discuss the truth.

Did she regret coming here? She thought about it.

The answer blurted out of her. “No. I don’t regret it.”

The admission made her feel lighter, somehow. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to ask herself that question.

“Interesting.”

“I don’t think it was a mistake for you to return to Devon, either,” she ventured. “I know you care about helping people, but your family needs you. Benjamin needs you.”

“I’m realizing this.” He cleared his throat. “My mother, too.” He leaned over and bumped her arm lightly with his. “Hamish and Benjamin helped me replace the fence along the back pasture yesterday afternoon.”

“So I heard.”

Vera had seen Stephen return to the house, his tunic clinging to his skin, his beard wild down his chest. She’d felt something, but she’d looked away before she could decide what it was. Revulsion, probably.

“I’m going to hire some additional men to tend the back fields. It’s my job to see to them, after all.”

“And you’re planning on being a doctor to the village, too?”

“You forget I have a new assistant who’s going to be helping me.”

“Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve been strong-armed into a position by a bully, but I do hope this time results in me receiving a reference.”

It was as if her words drew a shade over his face—his expression dimmed in an instant.

“I’m not your mother, Vera.” He scowled, as if the thought were abhorrent to him. “I’m not looking to trap you in a position you never wanted. I’m not trying to make your life miserable.”

“I know.” She was confused by the vehemence of his reaction.

“In fact, I’m very much trying to be your friend.”

She blinked, frowned. “You are?”

“Yes!” he snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “And you’re making it damn difficult!”

“Why shouldn’t I? You were⁠—”

“Exactly.” He jabbed a finger between them, as if she’d just admitted something that sunk her entire argument. “I was. I was awful to you when I first arrived home. I did do a terrible thing by invading your privacy and reading your personal correspondence. But I’ve apologized, and I thought you’d accepted that apology.”

“I have.” Her tone was defensive, nigh on belligerent.

“Then why are you treating me as if you haven’t?”

“I’m not.”

How had this gotten so turned around? She had every right to be angry with him… Didn’t she? How was he making it seem as if she were the one in the wrong?

“You just called me a bully, Vera.” He shook his head. “Name the last thing I’ve done that’s actually been mean. Truthfully, what have I done lately to earn your ire?”

Her mouth hung open until she realized it and snapped it closed once more. Vera reviewed his actions and was shocked to find that, other than their first week or so, she came up with nothing.

Was he right? Had she been holding a grudge wrongly, viewing him through the lens of what he’d done weeks ago, when he’d apologized many times?

Stephen sighed as if hearing every word of her internal debate. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I didn’t handle things in the right way, and I wish I could go back and change that, but I can’t. All I can do is show you who I really am now.”