The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t really say no to her, not when she looked at him the way she was now. “I’ll wait.”

“Promise?” Her blue eyes were uncertain as they met his. “You won’t wait until I’m upstairs and then take off?”

He held her gaze. “I’ll wait,” he said, and the connection that had been missing for the past days was suddenly there again, tethering them together. He’d been a fool to think they could just walk away from each other easily.

She whirled in a swish of skirts and disappeared up the stairs, jogging down again in record time in jeans and a T-shirt.

“Let’s go for a walk. Let’s go to the top of the mountain and look down over Jewell Cove and the estate.” She reached out and took his hand. “You are the one who took this falling-down mansion and made it beautiful again. You’re the one who’s been here from the very beginning.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he replied hesitantly. This was already difficult enough without prolonging the torture. And yet time alone with her was a gift he wasn’t ready to give back.

They strolled up the road to the gate, the sun soaking through the cotton of his shirt. As they skirted the barrier, Tom reached over and took her hand, helping her over the rough hump of gravel beside the post. Once they were on the dirt road, he kept her fingers in his.

When they reached the summit they stood for a moment and stared at the rubble of the barn. Then she turned to look up at him and smiled. “Come on. Let me show you my favorite view.”

She led him to the outcropping surrounded by grass and wild blackberries, not yet ripe.

Tom sat next to her in the grass. She was so beautiful. So strong … and headstrong. That one trait bugged the hell out of him and yet it was one of his favorite things about her. He admired it and yet it left him wondering what he had to offer.

“It’s pretty, right?” she asked quietly.

“Gorgeous.” But he didn’t look down over the town, as she was doing. He simply watched her, the tiny smile that flickered on her lips, the way the light touched her hair. From now on he would always consider this spot theirs; that whatever happened in the next several minutes mattered little. Right now it was he and Abby together, inextricably linked by threads that were beautiful and complicated. Whatever happened in the future, nothing could take this moment away from them. From him.

“Look,” she said softly, nodding at the stately house that had once been a neglected mausoleum.

“What am I looking at?” he asked.

“Home,” she replied.

CHAPTER 22

“Home?”

She nodded, nervousness expanding exponentially in her stomach. This was such a big leap of faith. One she felt good about, but one that came with risks to her heart, too.

He reached for her hand and squeezed. “What do you mean, home?”

She let out a breath. “I mean, Tom, that I’ve made a decision. The house on Blackberry Hill is no longer for sale.”

“You’re staying?”

Something big and awesome expanded in her chest at the hope she heard in his words. It was now or never. “Yes, I’m staying. For good.”

“You’re saying that you’re going to live in that house.”

She smiled, the expansive feeling growing, making her certain that this was absolutely the right decision. “I’m going to live in that house,” she confirmed. “I’m going to keep it alive and have friends and music and a book club in the library and a rose garden in the summer. I’m going to put down roots, Tom. It’s time.”

His dark eyes softened. “I’m happy for you,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “Disappointed for me, but happy for you.”

Tom gazed into her face. God, how she’d fallen for him. Now that she’d made the decision to st

ay, the next part was even harder. She didn’t want this to be the end of them but a new beginning. And yet she was smart enough to know that for that to happen, they had to talk about everything that had been unsaid since that day at the hospital. She knew there was still a chance that this wouldn’t work out between them, and the fear tempered the fizzy feeling of celebration.

She looked away for a minute, gathering her thoughts. In the soft, early evening they could see sailboats bobbing on the water below and a white line that marked the long wake of a speedboat in the bay. Puffy white clouds slid across the sky as the sun mellowed into peach and periwinkle. The town was quiet now, but in a few hours everyone would gather at the ball diamond for fireworks. Home, she confirmed to herself. She finally had a place to belong.

“You’re really sure about staying, Abby? You were so determined to leave this place behind.”

“It’s time I stop running,” she answered simply. “I’ve been too afraid to settle anywhere, to make any lasting bonds, because I know what it feels like to lose everything. But know what? I found my family—or at least my family’s history, the good and the bad.” For a brief second she thought about Edith and Kristian. “I think I understand now why Marian wanted it to stay in Foster hands, you know? Even though she knew I technically wasn’t a Foster, but a Prescott. The house needs to be with family.”