The House on Blackberry Hill: Jewell Cove #1 (Jewel Cove) (12 page)

She untangled her tongue and tried a smile. “We can do it whenever it fits your schedule.”

“After I finish here, I’m all yours.”

Now that was an intriguing idea. A pert comment sat on her tongue but she kept it to herself and asked, “What about Saturday? You want to come over to the house?”

He reached for a scrap of wood and tossed it on a growing pile beside the deck. “Saturday’s good, but why don’t we drive into Portland and hit the supplier’s showroom? It’s easier to decide when you can see things put together rather than trying to visualize it from a little chip, you know?”

Drive into the city together? She blinked as realization dawned. They’d be alone in her car—or his truck—together, maybe have lunch just the two of them. Like a … date, only not. The idea flustered her more than it should.

He’d stopped working and was watching her expectantly. She had no good excuse. It’s not like she could tell him what she’d been thinking.

“That would be okay,” she replied. “What time?”

“Ten? Is that too early? It could take us a while.”

“Ten sounds fine.” Ten meant that they’d be spending most of the day there. They’d definitely have lunch together.

She was totally making more of this than she needed to.

Tom stood up, tossing another scrap to the side. “Sounds good. Anyway, I’m due for a break, so come on inside and meet Jess.” He put his drill to the side but left his nail belt on. Following him into the shop, Abby couldn’t help but notice how the soft leather fit around his hips, making her mouth go dry.

There was music playing in the background of the shop, some sort of light Celtic tune with a fiddle that fit perfectly with the down-home, seaside feel to the place. Large windows overlooked the harbor, flooding the entire place with sunlight. There were shelves and tables everywhere, of varying heights and shapes, and at first glance it seemed a bit chaotic until Abby realized it was all laid out with great precision to maximize the floor space. Pigeonholes were stuffed with a rainbow of yarns while a nearby rack was host to ready-made items—scarves, shawls, socks, and a tiny clothesline that held baby booties with miniature clothespins. Knitted dishcloths filled a basket and beside that was a selection of needles, crochet hooks, and patterns.

Another area formed a children’s corner, complete with craft kits, kites, stuffed animals, puppets, and puzzles. There were soaps in every shape, color, and scent Abby could imagine, and then candles—soy, paraffin, beeswax. Tapers and pillars and tea lights and others in covered Mason jars. Cinnamon and butter pecan and banana bread and chocolate chip cookie scents, jasmine and rose garden and lily. Closer to the cash register was jewelry, and one whole wall was dedicated to quilts. Several were hung on full display, while others were folded and draped over quilting racks. Beside the quilts were supplies—piecing squares, patterns, thread, needles, and one entire shelf filled with bolts of cloth.

And in the midst of it all was the most beautiful woman Abby had ever seen. She was tall, with hair as black as Tom’s knotted at the nape of her neck in the kind of loose bun—a study in precise disarray—that made Abby envious. She’d never been able to achieve that careless bohemian, feminine look with her hair. The woman wore black leggings that ended mid-calf and a loose tunic that she’d belted around her waist. Sandals with metallic accents glittered on her feet. She was currently standing on tiptoe as she reached to put an item on a top shelf. “That’s your cousin?” she asked Tom quietly.

“Jess. She’s pretty, huh?”

“She’s gorgeous.” She smiled up at him. “Guess your side of the family missed out on those genes, huh?”

Tom laughed unexpectedly, making Jess turn her head, finally realizing they were there. “Oh, my gosh, I didn’t even hear you come in! Sorry!” She beamed at them and hurried over. “I was thinking up a new candle recipe for tomorrow’s class and totally got lost in my own head.”

“Jess, this is Abby Foster. The new—”

“Owner of the house up on Blackberry Hill!” Jess finished for him. “Oh, goodness, how are you liking it? It’s huge, isn’t it! But beautiful, I bet. Tom said he’s going to be helping you fix it up again. You made his year. He’s been in love with that house for ages.”

Abby’s lips twitched as she looked up at Tom, who appeared slightly embarrassed. “Oh, don’t be bashful,” she teased. “It’s not exactly a secret.” She looked at Jess. “He put his foot through the veranda floor when he showed up, you know.”

“And you called Bryce. We heard all about it.”

“Don’t be a brat,” Tom said to Jess.

“Well, we did.” She turned her brilliant smile on Abby. “Anyway, Tom will do a good job for you, he’s the best carpenter around. And I’m glad to meet you at last. The whole town’s been buzzing about you.”

Abby hated being the center of attention, but right now she didn’t seem to mind, especially when it came from someone as openly friendly as Jess Collins.

“This place is amazing,” Abby remarked, still glowing in the warmth of the welcome. “Treasures is definitely a good name for it. You’ve got everything in here.”

Jess beamed. “The family didn’t think I could make a go of it, but we brought them around, huh, Tom?” She looked up at Tom with affection written all over her face. “Tom made all of my shelves and tables, you know. He believed in this place before the rest of the family did. And I haven’t forgotten that.”

Something significant seemed to pass between the cousins but after a moment it was gone. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour. You should come back on the weekend. We’re having a beading workshop on Saturday morning. Within an hour you’ll have a gorgeous pair of earrings or even a necklace.”

“We’re headed to Portland on Saturday to shop for cupboards and a countertop,” Tom replied.

“Right,” Abby echoed. “Sorry. I really wish I could.” She was shocked to find that she meant the words. She’d never really been a joiner before. And she wasn’t staying in Jewell Cove, so it didn’t really make sense to foster any new friendships, did it?

Jess paused. “But Tom, Saturday is the picnic at Sarah’s. You promised.”

There was that look again. Abby’s gaze went back and forth between the two of them. Tom’s jaw tightened, Jess’s eyes narrowed.

“You can’t back out now,” she threatened. “You promised Mom.”

“No one will miss me.” He shrugged.

But Jess shook her head and put her hand on his arm, stopping him from turning away. “
Everyone
will miss you.” There was an accent on the word “everyone” that Abby didn’t miss. Jess smiled at Abby but there was worry in her dark eyes. “My brother is moving back to town, and we’re having a family picnic at my sister Sarah’s. She’s got fireworks and Tom’s already built a dance floor.”

“Jess,” Tom said, his voice thick with warning.

“It’s okay, Tom,” Abby said. “We can do it another day. I’m free whenever. You should spend time with your family.”

Tom’s gaze fell on her. “If we left for Portland a little earlier, we could be back in time for supper.” He glanced at Jess. “Would that make everyone happy?”

“As long as you show up. Abby, why don’t you come along, too? The more the merrier.”

“Oh, I couldn’t intrude on a family thing. Tom can just drop me off at the house when we’re done.”

“Don’t be silly. There’ll be a ton of food, and it’d give you a chance to meet a few more people. It must be lonely in that old house by yourself, especially on a Saturday night. Besides, it would be good for Tom to—”

“Jess,” Tom said sharply, surprising Abby. Jess’s lips closed in surprise and Abby got the sense that there was a whole other conversation going on beneath what was actually being said.

But then Tom’s hand touched the small of Abby’s back. “Why don’t you come,” he suggested, his voice rumbling in her ear. “I know I’m not the best company, but it’s better than spending a Saturday night by yourself, isn’t it? And like Jess said, you’ll get a chance to meet some people. For the most part…” He aimed a telling glare at Jess. “My family is quite nice.”

The warmth of his hand soaked through her light shirt and tingles seemed to run down to her toes. “If I do come, what should I bring?” she found herself asking. Lord, she really was weak where he was concerned, wasn’t she? One little touch and she was ready to do whatever he asked.

“Just yourself,” Jess insisted. “Trust me. There’ll be lots to eat. My sister always goes overboard with these things, thinking she’s feeding an army. We never complain because then we all get leftovers to last a week.”

It was the first time Abby had been invited anywhere since arriving in town. There were always a few people who would say hello at the café or in line at the grocery store, but this was the first real overture of friendship. If the rest of Tom’s family was as nice as Jess seemed to be, it would be an enjoyable evening. Why shouldn’t she go?

“I guess I could come along,” she replied, and Jess smiled.

“Great. Now shoo, Tom. I’m not paying you to stand around, am I?”

Tom raised one eyebrow at his cousin while she winked audaciously. Abby wondered if Jess was paying him anything at all.

“I’m going,” he muttered, but before he went outside again he spoke to Abby. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Now that the exterminator’s been by, I’ll start with tightening up the doors and windows. The roofers are coming next Monday to replace the roof.” He smiled down at her then looked at Jess. “See ya, slave driver.”

Jess linked her arm with Abby’s and drew her away. “Come on, let me show you around. Upstairs is my workshop, and that’s where I hold my classes. Down here is the main store, and I make most of the stuff myself. A few other local artisans sell on consignment, which helps me keep my stock up. And the quilts are done by a ladies’ group with the proceeds going to charity.”

The door to the shop closed and moments later Abby heard the dull drone of the saw. Jess was in the middle of showing her a display of felted hats when Abby had to ask.

“What were you going to say earlier? That it would be good for Tom to what?”

Jess didn’t meet her eyes but instead fussed with a pile of fabric on the table. “Oh, he just doesn’t date much, that’s all.”

“But it wouldn’t be a date. Tom works for me.”

Jess looked up. “It would be the closest thing to a date he’s had for a few years, so we’ll take it.”

“A few years?” Abby stepped back. “But Tom’s—” She caught herself just in time. The word “gorgeous” had been sitting on the tip of her tongue. “What I mean is, look at him. He’s not exactly a troll.”

Jess’s musical laughter echoed through the rafters of the vaulted ceiling. “So you
did
notice.”

Abby grinned. “Well, duh. I may not be interested but I do have eyes.”
Liar,
a voice inside her taunted. She ignored it. “So why the dry spell?”

Jess’s voice softened. “He got his heart broken.”

Something twisted inside Abby. Big, burly Tom didn’t date because he had a broken heart? But he always seemed so sure of himself. So confident and … She remembered how he’d looked down at her once he’d pulled his foot from the veranda. His attitude had been bordering on cocky. And then she remembered the way his fingers had tightened on hers in the servant’s stairway.

Oh, dear. Knowing he’d been hurt shouldn’t change anything, but somehow it did.

“What happened?” Abby found herself asking.

After a pause, Jess sighed. “She married someone else.”

“Oh. Ouch.”

“Yeah. But what are you gonna do, right?”

“Right,” Abby replied.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re coming. We’re all happy Josh is coming home. His wife was killed on deployment and he’s really been struggling. Now he’ll be around friends and family, you know? Make a new start right here at home.”

“I’m sorry,” Abby replied, feeling instantly sorry for Jess’s brother—Tom’s cousin. “How terrible. Were you all very close to his wife?”

Jess went still for a second, and Abby thought she looked not just sad but a bit annoyed. “Not particularly,” she admitted. “Erin was gone a lot, and then they lived in Hartford. They didn’t come home often.”

Abby got the sense there was more to the story, but she wasn’t about to pry.

“Listen,” Jess said, her face lighting up as she changed the topic. “I know it’s got to be lonely, being new in town and in that huge old house all alone. Tom and his workmen can’t be much company. If you can’t make the beading workshop, why don’t you come out tomorrow night to my candle-making class? I still have space and it’ll give you a chance to meet some local ladies and do something fun. You get to take home what you make and I always provide some snacks for when we finish. First lesson’s on me as a welcome to Jewell Cove.”

Abby nearly refused. After all, she wasn’t actually staying in Jewell Cove for long but she got the feeling her protest would fall on deaf ears. Besides, the temptation to actually get out and have a social evening that had nothing to do with the house or grabbing a meal on the run sounded fun. “I think I’d like that,” she found herself saying. “What time?”

“I close at six and we start at seven. Just take the stairs at the back and come up to the workshop entrance.”

“Thank you, Jess. For the welcome and the offer.”

“Anytime.” She smiled and put her hand lightly on Abby’s arm. “The cove’s a nice place,” she said, giving a squeeze. “Small town, of course, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. You’ll see.”

Abby picked up a pair of earrings and paid for them, then skirted past Tom without saying anything. On the way to her car she stopped at Sally’s Dairy Shack and bought a chocolate dip cone, which she ate seated on a bench overlooking the marina. As she licked the drips from her fingers, she frowned.

If she wasn’t careful, this town could wrap its way around her heart. She’d just have to make sure that didn’t happen; to be ready to cut ties and move on. If she’d learned anything over the last ten years, it was that nothing good ever lasted.

She couldn’t imagine Jewell Cove would be any different.

C
HAPTER
9

The next evening Abby dressed carefully in her favorite capri pants and a top in asymmetrical ruffles that was ultrafeminine and flattering. She wore her hair down, letting it fall over her shoulders in waves, and slipped on a pair of jeweled sandals. It was just as nerve-racking meeting a group of women for the first time as it was going on a first date and Abby couldn’t help but want to make a good impression. She was so anxious about it she nearly considered staying home, curled up with one of the books from the library.