CHAPTER 14
Abby woke when the sun was just beginning to filter through the curtains. She checked her watch—just after six.
Jess and Sarah would still be sleeping, but Abby knew that she was awake for good. Quietly she got up and slipped into shorts and a tank top. She wanted to run the mountain. She’d missed it during her weeks away.
The air was crystal clear as she shut the door behind her and let her muscles warm up as she walked to the end of Foster Lane. Once there she began to jog, drinking in the scent of grass and wildflowers and the unmistakable saltiness of the ocean. On one of her mornings, she’d discovered a path that looped around the summit, bypassing the barn and leading up to where the old Prescott house had been. All that was left now was the stone foundation. It made her a little sad, but it made her feel connected, too. Her family had lived here. She wished she’d had a chance to know them.
The path also afforded a wonderful view of the town below. The rainbow of buildings glowed in the early morning light and Abby could imagine the smell of fresh bread coming from the bakery, almost taste the signature chocolate croissants they made. Nothing went better with a hot latte from the coffee shop next door.
Down the street, Breezes Café would smell like coffee and bacon. Men in hats and sun-bleached T-shirts would be at the marina, preparing their boats and fishing rods for a day on the water. In a few hours the shops would open, the wood-and-screen doors letting in the fresh breeze, clacking against wooden door frames as tourists wandered in and out. The water truck would crawl down Main Street, a local teen working the wand to water the hanging baskets hung on lamp posts.
When had she become so invested in the day-to-day goings-on in this town? She paused at the summit and caught her breath. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She was supposed to remain unemotional, unattached. But there was something about Jewell Cove that spoke to her. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Didn’t want to. But as she inhaled deeply and started running again, she realized that she was going to miss this place when she left.
She arrived back at the house just after seven, opening the door as quietly as she could so as not to disturb her guests. She needn’t have bothered. Sarah and Jess were already up and, from the sounds of it, in her kitchen. She shut the front door and made her way down the hall, following the sound of voices and general shuffling and clanging.
There was a frying pan on the stove and Sarah had a spatula in her hand while Jess was scooping frozen orange juice concentrate from a can straight into glasses.
“Good morning.”
Sarah beamed. “Good morning.” She looked at Abby and grinned. “
Up early, I see.”
“I went for a run. I might be a little sweaty.”
Jess muttered something unintelligible, but it might have sounded a little like “people being a mite too cheerful this early in the morning.”
“Little hair of the dog, sis?” Sarah waved the wine bottle.
“Don’t gloat,” Jess grumbled. “You know I’m generally a one-glass-only person. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I’m entitled to gloat. After six weeks of morning sickness and feeling hungover every day, it’s a relief to wake up hungry and not nauseous.”
Sarah took the spatula and flipped a perfectly round pancake.
“That smells really good,” Abby said.
“You had a bag of mix in your pantry box.”
“And I couldn’t find a pitcher to mix it in, but I did find a can of this in your freezer.” Jess brandished the juice concentrate.
“I’m a terrible host. I should have been here to cook you breakfast, not the other way around.”
Sarah laughed. “We’re friends now. Friends just make themselves at home.”
“Maybe,” Abby said, digging around in the dish box for three more plates. “But since you brought pizza last night…”
Sarah paused on her way to the fridge. “No one is keeping score, you know.”
Abby didn’t think she’d ever met anyone more generous than the Collins sisters. She’d already forgiven them for the barbecue incident. Yes, they’d made a mistake by not letting her in on the plan, but their intentions had been good.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you that night,” Abby said quietly, knowing they knew exactly which night she was referring to.
“You were entitled.” Jess ran water into the glasses and started stirring. “No need to apologize. Are you still mad at Tom?”
She shrugged. “A bit. I mean, we went there together. If anyone should have explained, it should have been him.”
“Especially after…” Sarah let the words hang meaningfully.