The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

easures.

When she entered the back door, the noise was already at a fever pitch. Half a dozen women were in the room, chatting animatedly. The only familiar face was Jess, who was currently laying out supplies on a table. A long counter ran along one side of the room, with a series of hot plates plugged in along its surface. Abby clutched her handbag and paused in the doorway, unsure. But just then Jess looked up and a broad smile lit up her face.

Her dark eyes were warm and full of good humor and Abby thought for a moment that the family resemblance really did run through the cousins. Jess’s eyes reminded Abby remarkably of Tom’s when he was teasing.

“You’re here!” Jess came over, giving her a quick hug.

Abby had no chance to guard against the contact, and let herself be hugged briefly before giving a light laugh and extricating herself from Jess’s embrace. “I did.”

“I’m glad. Come meet the other ladies before we get started.”

Under Jess’s guidance, Abby met Cindy White, mother of twins and wife of a local fisherman who considered Jess’s classes her night away from the craziness at home. There was middle-aged Gloria Henderson, who played the organ at the Baptist church and kept her hair in a precise bob just below her ears. Abby also met Summer Arnold, who looked like she was in her early twenties and had a nose ring and a streak of hot pink through her blond hair, and Lisa Goodwin, another young mom, who worked at the bank and whose husband worked at the fish plant just outside of town. All of them gave her a warm welcome, but it was Gloria who gave her an assessing look, raised one eyebrow, and said, “Heard you hired Tom Arseneault to fix up the house.”

“I did, yes. He started sealing my windows yesterday.”

Gloria’s smile widened. “Sealing windows.” Her tone inferred a different job altogether. “Not hard on the eyes, our Tom.”

What could Abby say? She’d be a liar to say she didn’t notice, and they’d all know it. The room had quieted a bit and she realized a few pairs of ears were waiting for her answer. She smiled. “No, he’s not,” she confessed. “But that’s not why I hired him.”

“Of course not.” Gloria winked at her. “Nice perk, though. His father was always a looker, especially when he used to mow the grass with his shirt off—”

“Gloria!” Cindy’s shocked voice interrupted, but Gloria shrugged.

“Shoot, Cindy. Whole town knows I dated Pete Arseneault when I was eighteen. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and I don’t need glasses yet.”

Abby laughed. “Anything I say is going to sound so wrong right about now. I think I’ll just keep quiet.”

“Smart girl here, Jess. She’ll do.” Gloria nodded as she issued her seal of approval.

“Should we get started, then?” Jess asked. “Tonight we’re going to be making Mason jar candles using soy wax. If everyone will pick a workstation, we’ll begin.”

* * *

The glass jars were still hot and Abby could see she had a few bubbles in her wax, but she didn’t worry about it. The room had warmed with all the hot plates going and the aroma of wax and scenting oils hung in the air. She was pleased. It had been fun, melting the wax and then using Jess’s “recipe” to add the proper combinations of scents and dye. She had two candles to take home later, one a creamy white scented with warm vanilla and the other a spicy red cinnamon. She’d learned more about Jewell Cove in this one hour than she had all the rest of the time she’d been in town. It was a close-knit community, a little prone to gossip as most small towns were, and not without its troubles, but also supportive of one another when times were tough.

Now Jess had laid out snacks and wine and Abby found herself with a glass of pinot noir in her hand, dipping a cracker in a delicious red pepper dip.

“Having a good time?” Jess stopped by, her glass containing something clear and fizzy. Abby supposed as the hostess she was abstaining from the wine.

“Wonderful. It was really fun. And everyone is just so nice.”

“They like you, too. Though everyone was fairly restrained. They don’t want to scare you off. Lips might get looser as the wine flows.”

Abby grinned. This had been restrained? “Thanks for the warning.”

She answered numerous questions about the house, though she learned as much as she revealed as even the younger women knew of Marian and the home she’d run for years. Lisa Goodwin, the young mom from the bank, topped up Abby’s glass and smiled sadly at her. “Your great-aunt was a special lady, Abby.”

“You knew her?” Everyone in Jewell Cove seemed to think a lot of Marian. Abby found it slightly odd that a woman reputed to be so kind and giving could have shut out the only family she had left. Why had she never contacted Iris, or had the tables been turned? Lately Abby had started to think it might have something to do with the secrets that seemed locked up in the house. Maybe, in the end, Marian hadn’t had a choice.

“I was one of the last babies born there. She took my mother in, you know.”

Abby’s heart took a jolt. “You? You were born at Foster House?”

Lisa laughed lightly. “I was, but it’s not like I remember it,” she said, and Abby laughed, too.

“Of course not.”

“My birth mom couldn’t stay at home once she found out she was pregnant. With Marian’s help she put me up for adoption. I grew up right here in the Cove with two wonderful parents. I guess not long after that Marian closed it up. She was getting older and looking after the girls was a lot of work. And, well, society changed. It’s a lot less taboo now to be a single mom.”