“No,” Gray said after a pause. “I don’t miss it.”

“Well, you’d have retired quite early, so you wouldn’t have the same sort of emotional attachment. Or perhaps you do, and that’s why you’ve never used any of your prior experience, so to speak, in your books.”

Shrugging, he lifted his cup. “Maybe I just don’t see the point in looking back.”

“I’ve always felt you never have a really clear view of what’s coming up if you don’t glance over your shoulder now and again.”

“I like surprises. If tomorrow’s already figured out, why bother with it?”

“The surprise comes because tomorrow’s never quite what you thought it would be. But you’re young,” she said, giving him a motherly smile. “You’ll learn that for yourself. Do you use a map when you travel?”

“Sure.”

“Well, that’s it, you see. Past, present, future. All mapped out.” With her bottom lip clamped between her teeth, she measured out a stingy quarter spoon of sugar for her own tea.

“You may plan a route. Now some people stick to it no matter what. No deviations to explore some little road, no unscheduled stops to enjoy a particularly nice sunset. A pity for them,” she mused. “And oh, how they complain when they’re forced to detour. But most of us like a little adventure along the way, that side road. Having a clear view of the ultimate destination doesn’t have to keep one from enjoying the ride. Here you are, Johnny dear, your tea’s just poured.”

“Bless you, Iris.”

“And with just a drop of cream, the way you like it.”

“I’d be lost without her,” Carstairs said to Gray. “Oh, it appears we’re having company.”

Gray looked toward the kitchen door as Murphy opened it. Con darted in ahead, sat at Gray’s feet, laid his head in Gray’s lap. Even as Gray lifted a hand to stroke the dog’s ears, his smile of greeting faded.

“What is it?” He found himself springing to his feet, rattling the cups on the table. Murphy’s face was too set, his eyes too dark. “What’s happened?”

“There’s been an accident. Brianna’s been hurt.”

“What do you mean she’s hurt?” he demanded over Iris’s murmur of distress.

“Maggie called me. There was an accident when Brie was driving from the car park to the shop where Maggie and the baby were waiting.” Murphy took off his cap, a matter of habit, then squeezed his fingers on the brim. “I’ll take you up to Galway. She’s in the hospital there.”

“Hospital.” Standing there Gray felt, physically felt, the blood draining out of him. “How bad? How bad is it?”

“Maggie wasn’t sure. She didn’t think it was too bad, but she was waiting to hear. I’ll take you to Galway, Grayson. I thought we’d use your car. It’d be faster.”

“I need the keys.” His brain felt dull, useless. “I have to get the keys.”

“Don’t let him drive,” Iris said when Gray streaked from the room.

“No, ma’am, I won’t be letting him do that.”

Murphy didn’t have to argue. He simply took the keys from Gray’s hand and got behind the wheel. Since Gray said nothing, Murphy concentrated on finessing all the speed the Mercedes was built for. Another time, perhaps, he would have appreciated the response the sleek car offered. For now he simply used it.

For Gray the trip was endless. The glorious scenery of the west rushed by, but they seemed to make no progress. It was like animation, he thought dimly, run over and over again, cell by cell, while he could do nothing but sit.

And wait.

She wouldn’t have gone if he hadn’t bullied her into it. But he’d pressured her to go out, to take a day. So she’d gone to Galway, and now she was . . . Christ, he didn’t know what she was, how she was, and couldn’t bear to imagine it.

“I should have gone with her.”

With the car cruising near ninety, Murphy didn’t bother to glance over. “You’ll make yourself sick thinking that way. We’re nearly there now, then we’ll see.”

“I bought her the f**king car.”

“True enough.” The man didn’t need sympathy, Murphy thought, but practicality. “And you weren’t driving the one who hit it. To my way of thinking, if she’d been in that rusted bucket she had before, things would be worse.”

“We don’t know how bad they are.”

“We soon will. So hang on to yourself until we do.” He slipped off an exit, slowed, and began to maneuver through denser traffic. “It’s likely she’s fine and will give us grief for driving all this way.”

He turned into the hospital car park. They’d no more climbed out and started for the doors when they spotted Rogan walking the baby.

“Brianna.” It was all Gray could say.

“She’s all right. They want to keep her through the night at least, but she’s all right.”

The feeling went out of Gray’s legs so that he took Rogan’s arm as much for balance as for emphasis. “Where? Where is she?”

“They’ve just put her in a room on the sixth floor. Maggie’s with her yet. I brought her mother and Lottie along with me. They’re up there as well. She’s—” He broke off, shifting to block Gray from rushing the entrance. “She’s banged up, and I think she’s hurting more than she’s letting on. But the doctor told us she’s very lucky. Some bruises from the seat belt, which kept it from being worse. Her shoulder’s wrenched, and that’s causing the most pain. She’s a knot on her head, and some cuts. They want her kept quiet for twenty-four hours.”

“I need to see her.”

“I know that.” Rogan stood his ground. “But she doesn’t need to see how upset you are. She’s one who’ll take that to heart and worry over it.”

“Okay.” Fighting for balance, Gray pressed his fingers to his eyes. “All right. We’ll keep it calm, but I have to see her for myself.”

“I’ll go up with you,” Murphy said and led the way in. Keeping his own counsel, he said nothing as they waited for the elevator.

“Why are they all here?” Gray demanded when the elevator opened. “Why are they here, Maggie, her mother. Rogan, Lottie, if she’s all right?”