“What did you think of the library?”
“It’s amazing. Every wall is lined with books. They really need to be evaluated and that’s beyond my expertise. I should have a friend of mine from Halifax come over. Even without the books, there are all those solid mahogany cases and the old silk settee and there’s one particular pie-crust table that caught my eye.”
She realized she’d gotten slightly carried away.
“So now you understand,” he said softly. “The house is to me what the library is to you.”
“Old and dirty?” She tried to make a joke but it fell flat, because his words rang true and they both knew it. He’d known exactly where to hit her for maximum impact.
She was still planning on putting it on the market, but she understood the draw. There was something special about that library that called to her. It felt like … home. Damn him for playing on her emotions.
Loud voices came from the bar area and Tom’s brows pulled together in a frown. When Abby turned around, she saw the waitress arguing with the man who’d been playing darts. “You’re cut off, Rick. Sorry.”
Rick’s reply was succinct and made Abby’s ears burn. “Friend of yours?” she asked quietly.
“You could say that.” He sighed. “Rick Sullivan. I grew up with him. He hasn’t been the same since coming back from … well, wherever he was deployed. No one’s said.” He finished off his beer and stood. “Maybe I’ve given you something to think about, anyway. And Abby?” He paused by her chair. “Don’t forget to enjoy yourself a bit while you’re in town. Do some shopping. Go out for a sail. See what the town has to offer. You might end up liking what you see.” He put his hand on her shoulder as he passed by. “Good night.”
“Good night,” she murmured, her pulse hammering from the innocent touch. His assessment that she looked like a schoolteacher had stung and there had been none of the longing looks tonight that a girl knew meant a guy was interested. But it didn’t stop the warmth that went through her at the feel of his fingers on her shoulder. Or the way his last words had been absent of any hostility or sarcasm. It had been a genuine invitation, a welcome to the town. An invitation she was almost inclined to accept.
She turned in her seat, watching him approach Rick, his size blocking the other man from view for a few seconds. She couldn’t hear what they said, but a minute later they went up to the bar. Tom pulled some bills from his wallet and squared away the tab, and then they left together, Tom walking behind while Rick weaved his way to the door. He was a good friend, helping this Rick guy when it would have
been just as easy to mind his own business.
A few minutes later Abby motioned for the waitress to bring the bill. Tanya came to the table to clear the dishes, but surprised Abby by saying, “Tom looked after your dinner and said to tell you welcome to town.”
“He did what?” She hadn’t expected that. And she might have thought he was trying to buy his way into her good graces but she got the impression that despite their rocky beginnings Tom had more integrity than that. It was a nice gesture.
“You’re the one that’s inherited the old Foster place, right?”
“That’s me.” She put on a thin smile.
“Big job sorting it out, I expect. Especially seeing as how it’s been empty for so long.” The woman patted Abby’s hand—what was it with all the physical touching around here anyway? “You should head over to Breezes someday for breakfast,” Tanya chattered on. “The old-timers over there will fill your ears about how that house is full of ghosts.” She departed with a friendly smile.
Abby picked up her purse and sighed. Ghosts? She shook her head. Just one more thing she didn’t need right now.
CHAPTER 5
Abby took Tanya’s advice and headed over to Breezes Café at nine the next morning, searching out breakfast and a Wi-Fi connection to do some research. Morning light poured through the wide windows, casting a cheery glow on the patrons. A local radio station played in the background. More than one person entered and was offered a wave and was called by name. If Abby was looking for Jewell Cove Headquarters, it appeared the café was it.
Once she’d ordered a bowl of oatmeal and a coffee, she booted up her netbook and opened her browser. With a sinking heart she realized Tom was annoyingly right. She ate rather absently as she went through the list of contractors in the area and the reviews for each one. At least on paper, he was the best around. Only one other company came close to impressing her, but when she gave them a quick call to see if they could provide her with a quote, she was told that they could maybe slot her in around October.
Tom had her over a barrel and, what was even more aggravating, he knew it. It was either hire him or sell it to him.
She was browsing through Tom’s site, looking at refurbishment pictures, when someone cleared their throat beside her table. “Excuse me, Miss Foster?”
The man was probably in his early fifties, with a rough complexion that spoke of years spent in the wind and sun. His thinning hair was an interesting blend of gray and blond—what she thought might have been quite attractive at one point but had since been salt-bleached by the sea.
“I’m Abigail Foster.” She held out her hand.
He shook it and his palm was rough. “Luke Pratt. I’m the mayor of Jewell Cove.”
This man was the mayor? He looked like he’d just stepped off a fishing vessel.
“Won’t you sit down?” she offered, pushing her nearly empty bowl aside.
“Thanks.” He slid into the booth across from her and smiled. “How are you liking our town?”
She gave the only answer possible. “It’s lovely. Small and friendly. Everyone seems to know who I am already.” It was a bit of a backhanded compliment, she admitted to herself. A little anonymity would have been nice. But Pratt only smiled widely at her.