“I hope so.” Abby cupped her mug and worked it in slow circles on the tabletop.
“Something on your mind, Abby?”
She met his gaze. “Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”
His stomach clenched. “Are you sure you want to ask me that? I’ve gone off the rails and it wouldn’t take much to send me there again.”
“There’s something about Jess. I can feel things about people, Rick. I never really realized it until I came here, and it’s a long story … but there’s a sadness that surrounds her. I don’t know what it is.”
“She didn’t used to be that way.” The Jess he’d known had been bubbly, carefree. “She lost her dad at a pretty sensitive age.”
“It could be that, I suppose,” Abby replied. Her eyes were soft with concern. “But I think it’s more than that.” She stopped spinning the cup. “Just keep your eyes open, okay? She’s a strong woman but everyone needs a guardian angel now and again.”
He chuckled a little, a good show considering the bitterness inside him. Kyle could have used a guardian angel watching over him in Afghanistan. Maybe then he’d still be alive. Maybe then Rick would still have his hand. “Do you have a guardian angel, Abby?”
“Of course I do,” she answered, a glow lighting her cheeks. “I have Tom. He pulled me out of that barn, remember?”
Right. How could he have forgotten that the Prescott barn had fallen in a lightning strike? Abby had been inside. She was lucky she got out with just cuts and bruises.
“I’m not sure I’m a good choice for a guardian angel,” he contradicted.
“I think you’re the perfect choice.”
Her easy confidence touched something inside him—a feeling of warmth knowing she believed in him and then something that was like guilt from knowing how badly he’d failed in the past.
“Well, I’d better go. Thanks for the coffee and the info.”
He stood up and so did she. “It was no trouble. You’ll let me know about the projects we discussed?”
“As soon as I work up some drawings.”
She walked him to the door and waited while he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. “Don’t worry about Jess,” he said. “I’ll look out for her.”
Abby closed the door behind him. “Oh, Rick.” She sighed to the empty foyer. “I think you need her as much as she needs you,” she said softly.
* * *
A raw wind brought with it small, hard drops of rain. Of all the months of the year, Rick hated November the most. The days were short and the trees were bare, their gray, gnarled branches like bony fingers against a bleak sky. Even on the rare sunny day, the vibrant colors of earlier months were gone and not yet replaced by a pristine blanket of snow.
Rick got out of his truck and zipped his jacket to the neck before reaching across the seat for a cardboard box, the flaps folded over to protect against the damp.
The street in front of Treasures was empty, except for Jess’s car, which was parked in the narrow drive to the side of the building. Not much wonder. Today was the sort of day to stay inside where it was warm and dry. Even the normally colorful buildings looked drab against the steely waves of the harbor.
Shoulders huddled against the cold, he made his way up the steps and along the back boardwalk to the entrance of Treasures.
The bell above the door gave a cheery ring as he stepped inside. Jess was sitting behind the cash register and she looked up when he walked in, her face lighting up.
Whooomp, went his heart against the wall of his chest.
Whoa.
“Hey,” he said, his voice sounding unusually loud in the quiet.
“Hey yourself.” She stood up, putting aside a huge mound of knitting. “What brings you by? Are those the ornaments?”
“They are.” He shouldn’t be so pleased by the way her eyes sparkled at him. “I thought I’d deliver them myself, since you have to work around shop hours and I’m more flexible.”
“That was nice of you.” She stood up, pulling the hem of her sweater down over her jeans. She held out her hands. “Gimme,” she said, waggling her fingers. “I want to see.”