How I Met Sara

Flynn Murray here.

I don't think we've met.

But I understand from Anne that I've got a contest going on. Something about Here Come The Grooms! -- which she says is in its second year.

And someone is going to win my book and find out how I finally got Sara to say YES.

But I also understand that Anne has asked a question you're supposed to answer -- and said it was MY question. And the truth is, it isn't.

I would have asked you something about Sara, not about what I was doing when I met Sara. Sara's what's important -- not that. I would have asked you what Sara intended to do with her life. Answer: go to med school. Or idealistically: save the world. Or I would have asked: "What colour are Sara's eyes?"

They're brown. Except when she's angry -- and then they sort of flash gold. They did a lot of flashing in our book. She was pretty peeved.

But Sara, annoyed, is pretty exciting. And certainly tempting. Not that I wouldn't have settled for her just falling into my arms.

She didn't. In case you want to know. She took a LOT of convincing.

Well, you would, wouldn't you (this is Sara, by the way) if some here-today, gone-tomorrow Irish journalist knocked you off your feet, chatted you up, turned your world upside down, acted like he loved you -- did actually make love to you -- then went his merry way?

It wasn't like that. It was a matter of honour. Of doing what was best for her. I had nothing to offer her then --

And you do now, I suppose?

I'd say so, yes. Marriage. A home. Family.

Ha. You live in Ireland!

People do. You like Ireland. Beautiful country. Very green.

On account of the . . . ?

All right. So it rains . . . A lot. You had three feet of snow on the ground in Montana when I first came here six years ago. And now there's more!

We've been saving it for you.

See? This is what she's like. She fights me every step of the way. And most of the time, believe me, what we're fighting about is not the weather!

I'm not fighting. I'm only saying. And you don't have to come in here and complain to Anne's readers. You get your way in the end, you know.

It's YOUR way, too.

Well, yes, but, just tell them what you were doing here six years ago when you came to Montana, so they can answer the question.

I was covering The Great Montana Cowboy Auction for Incite Magazine. But then I met you and other things were a lot more appealing like . . .

Flynn! We are not doing Public Displays of Affection on Anne's blog!

No? Why not? Doesn't she permit it? We could go to Kate's . . . I hear she's running a dating service for cats.

So that's where Sid ran off to. I wondered. No, we're not going to Kate's. Not unless she invites us. Anyway, she has Raul and Alannah to deal with -- and Sid and Lola.

We're not cats. And we're not going anywhere.

We're helping Anne this month. She's signed you up to write for her blog, and that's what you're going to do.

Yes, Sara. Whatever you say, Sara.

He acts like this when he wants his way. I'm warning you, Flynn! Flynn! Put me down! Anne, get this hero under control! Anne!

Oh, good heavens. Well, don't mind us. We'll be back. Flynn has been looking forward to blogging ever since he talked to Theo and Spence. I'm sure he'll have something to say when he isn't . . . distracted.

Flynn!

Whatever you want, Sara . . .