The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

“Just the butler today, Tom. The historical society is helping out.” Luke Pratt winked. “Welcome to Foster House.”

Abby had gone all out, hadn’t she? As Tom made his way through to the back of the house, he noticed that every inch had been polished until it gleamed. The new drapes she’d ordered had been delivered and hung precisely in place, and the sliding pocket door he’d installed in the kitchen was closed, blocking it from the view of the guests. He stood aside as it slid open and a maid in black and white came out carrying a silver tray.

He’d stepped back in time.

“Tom.”

Abby’s voice was a welcome distraction from feeling like he’d fallen down a rabbit hole, but when he turned around it felt like all the air had gone out of his lungs.

She looked beautiful. Timeless. Like a picture out of the old Foster photo album only in living, breathing color. “Wow,” he managed.

She grinned and spun in a circle. “Do you like it? It’s got to be over a hundred years old. When I first discovered it the shirt was a bit yellowed and it smelled like the cedar chest. It dry-cleaned beautifully though, don’t you think?”

He swallowed. What he was thinking had little to do with the state of her clothing but with her. The full navy skirt fell in soft folds clear to the floor, and the white blouse was tapered and tucked in all the right places to make her waist look tiny and her breasts …

Well. He swallowed again. He’d have to lock that down tight, wouldn’t he?

A red, white, and blue sash ran from her shoulder to her hip as well, to celebrate the occasion. “You’re looking very festive,” he answered. “This is quite the event.”

“Come look,” she replied, taking his hand and tugging him toward the porch. “The historical society has worked its magic.”

What Tom thought was that Abby had been the one to work magic. She had no idea how much she belonged here. Or that when she went away, they were all going to miss her terribly.

* * *

Abby’s heart pounded and she forced herself to keep her composure. Tom looked delicious today, out of his customary jeans and into what she’d consider business casual. The way his trousers hugged his hips and the blue shirt spread across the wide expanse of his chest …

Time hadn’t taken away the attraction, the need for him. It made the stakes today even greater.

She led him through the sunny porch and down the steps to the backyard. Several tents were set up, and beneath their shade were tables with blindingly white cloths. Each table held a bouquet of flowers in patriotic colors. Abby tilted her head up at him, her heart full of gladness that he’d actually come. She’d been afraid he wouldn’t. “What do you think? Red roses, white carnations, and blue irises—those for my gram.”

His gaze met hers. “It’s beautiful, Abby. Your gram would have loved it, I think. But it must have cost you a fortune.”

She lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “It was worth it. Besides, I wanted it to be an event worthy of the house, you know?”

“Especially if it’s the only one you ever have, right?”

She looked away, inexplicably stung by the way he said the words—almost like an accusation. “I should go,” she said, some of her enthusiasm dimmed. “More people are arriving and I need to be a good hostess. Excuse me, Tom.”

She made her rounds, ensuring the food was circulated, tea was served, and the punch bowl always filled. She never lost sight of Tom, though. The light blue fabric of his shirt emphasized his summer tan, and he’d left the top button undone. She swallowed thickly. She did like the look of an unbuttoned man. But today it wasn’t just any man. It was Tom Arseneault and frankly she was terrified that at the end of it he was going to drive away in his truck and never darken her door again.

He’d put an offer in on the house. The Realtor had wasted no time calling her up and giving her the news. He’d hedged when she’d asked the name, but he’d given in eventually.

Tom was so sure that she was leaving that he was going to buy her house himself, just like he’d proposed that very first day. She leaned against the trunk of a tree and looked out over what had been a pasture decades before. The grass grew tall and wild there. He expected her to sell him the house and hit the road as she’d always intended. Go back to her life and her job. Play it safe.

But he was in for a surprise. She’d done a lot of soul-searching since that afternoon at the hospital, surrounded by Tom’s family. She wasn’t that scared girl any longer. Sure, she’d been a little slow on the uptake, but looking around her house filled with laughter and friends, Abby knew she was right to refuse the offer, take it off the market, and finally make this her permanent home. She laughed a little to herself. When she’d first driven into town, she couldn’t wait to get back out again. Now she could admit to herself that she loved Jewell Cove. Abby was finally being honest with herself, and the house wasn’t the only reason she had for staying in Jewell Cove. She wanted a life here, and there was no way she was going to sit back and live here, seeing Tom day in and day out, without first fighting for them. She just had to get the courage to actually say something first.

“Penny for your thoughts,” a voice said.

Josh stood at her shoulder. “Oh, goodness,” she gasped. “You startled me.”

He smiled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t expect to see you here today. It’s not generally a guy thing.”

“Sarah made me promise to come with her. She said she would if I would. She needed to get out of the house, so…” He let the thought hang.

“What about Mark?”