Authors: Courtney Walsh
Abigail sighed. “Have you seen my car?”
“Jacob can get them,” Kate offered.
They all turned and looked at Jacob in unison. Abigail almost felt sorry for him.
“He has a truck.” Kate smiled at him, but he didn’t look amused.
“Oh, Jacob, that is so nice of you to offer,” Gigi said, wrapping her hands around his arm. “Perhaps I’ve misjudged you.” Her eyes twinkled.
Jacob looked like he might let out an audible groan at any minute.
“Why don’t you take Abigail with you?” Gigi said. “After all, you’re new to town. You probably don’t even know where the Presbyterian church is.”
Jacob cleared his throat, then looked at Abigail. “Uh, no, I don’t.”
“I can’t leave,” Abigail said in protest. “Look around.”
“Oh, look, Abigail,” Gigi said. “I think Duncan just walked in.”
Abigail spun around. “All right, I’ll go with.”
“We’ll take care of the people
—don’t you worry about it. We’ll make sure they’re all still here when you get back.” Gigi started moving toward the back door, hands still wrapped around Jacob’s arm. He had no choice but to go along for the ride, and apparently neither did Abigail.
Minutes later, Abigail was pulling the shoulder strap in his truck around herself and fastening her seat belt. The truck was clean inside. Meticulous, actually. She supposed that fit his personality. Doctors seemed like clean people, what with all that hand washing.
She drew in a slow breath, mindful of the scent of cologne. Not
the gaudy, disgusting kind, but the kind that made you want to keep inhaling through your nose.
He stopped at the edge of the parking lot, an expectant look on his face. “Which way?”
“Oh, turn left and go to Cumberland and turn right. The church is just a few blocks away.”
Silence filled the cab, and Abigail’s mind spun, trying to find something
—anything
—to say.
“So your plan seems to be working,” Jacob said, his words cutting the silence.
She preferred the silence to this topic of conversation. She’d never been very good at withholding information.
“My plan?” Even she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. Nothing about her response came across as innocent.
“Turn your store into the talk of the town? Isn’t that the idea? I read the interview.”
Abigail did remember saying something about that to the reporter, though she thought she’d been off the record. Didn’t make much sense to tell him her plan, did it?
“I especially liked the part where you said you had a new landlord who didn’t understand Loves Park culture, but you hoped he caught on quickly how important The Book Nook was to the community.”
“I didn’t say that,” Abigail protested, her mind reeling.
He tossed her a look that said,
You wanna bet?
“I said that?”
He nodded. “You did.”
“Well, it’s a fair point. Besides, if you close me down, I’m afraid people might turn on you.”
Now he frowned. “Turn on me?”
“They won’t want you to be their doctor.”
“Is that how it works around here?”
She shrugged. “There’s the church.”
He turned in to the parking lot, and Abigail pulled out the keys Doris had given her.
“So you decided to take one couple’s relationship and broadcast it all over your store, to get people to come in? To prove to me that I shouldn’t raise your rent?”
Well, when you say it like that . . .
Jacob got out of the truck, leaving her speechless and questioning once again whether it was a good idea to pin up the paper hearts. Maybe she should’ve trusted her gut. Her gut told her not to let anyone else read them, but then, her gut was known to be rather confused.
Look at how many people were being encouraged by those hearts. Abigail would be the first to admit her own cynicism, but even she couldn’t argue with community-wide inspiration.
Did it matter that she reaped the benefits?
While she sat contemplating, the truck door opened and Jacob held out a hand to help her down. She stared at it.
“It’s a pretty big step,” he said. His kindness felt like an inconsistency.
Slowly she reached out and took his hand. As she did, he looked away, eyes focused on her feet, and when they hit the ground, he let go.
As he should. Of course. This wasn’t a date. It was a mission. A mission for chairs.
“Hanging the hearts wasn’t my idea,” she admitted as she unlocked the side door of the little church. She sounded like she was making excuses, and after seeing the way people had responded to the paper hearts, she didn’t feel much like apologizing. He was just sore because now he’d be the bad guy.
Jacob didn’t respond.
They walked downstairs to the basement as Doris had instructed, and Abigail opened the closet doors to find two racks of folding chairs.
“Do you think we should take them all?” she asked.
“There were a lot of people there.”
“There were, weren’t there?” She smiled. “I hope your sister is a good musician.”
Jacob actually laughed. He had a nice smile, the kind of smile that made her want to smile in return. She wished he smiled more, but then he might seem less like a mean landlord and more like someone she wanted to get to know better. Heaven forbid.
He pulled out the first rack of chairs. “I don’t know that they’re actually there to see her.” He took two chairs in each hand.
“You think it’s stupid, don’t you?” She pulled out the other rack of chairs and tried to pick up three of them.
“Whoa, don’t kill yourself. Just take two.”
She squared off with him. “I can take three.”
His eyes widened, but he said nothing. Instead he turned and started up the stairs. She followed but halfway up realized she absolutely could not manage all three. But there was no way she was going to let him know that.
He must’ve sensed her struggling because he reached the top and hollered a quick “You okay?” in her direction.
“Fine.”
“Liar.”
She glared at him, bracing the chairs against the stairwell wall and trying to catch her breath, but he’d already gone outside. Seconds later he returned, took all three chairs from her, and loaded them into the back of the truck.
Thankfully he didn’t say any more about it. They hauled and loaded in silence and, when they’d finished, locked up the church and headed back.
“You know, people send those letters to the postmaster knowing someone is going to read them,” Abigail said. She’d said it to herself several times over the last few days; might as well say it out loud.
“Sure,” he said. “But do they know everyone in town is going to read them?”
She chewed the inside of her lip. “You think I should take them down.”
“I didn’t say that.” He made the turn onto her street. “Besides, whoever wrote them will probably have no idea you’re using their honored tradition to get people to shop in your store.”
“You make it sound so cheap,” she said. “And you never know. We think they might actually be local.”
He raised a brow. “You really think locals would send anything to those women who sort the letters?”
“That’s fair.” She frowned. “Maybe you just don’t want the whole town to fall in love with me.”
He glanced at her.
Heat rushed to her face.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” This was why she shouldn’t be allowed in close quarters alone with a man. She always made a complete idiot of herself.
He turned his attention back to the road, and Abigail let out a hot stream of embarrassed air.
She could really use a paper bag to put over her head right about now.
She slunk down in her seat and dared a cautious glance in his direction.
While she couldn’t be positive, when the light from the streetlamps hit his face, she thought maybe he was smiling.
And something about that made her stomach topple over itself like clothes in a dryer.
A
FTER UNLOADING THE CHAIRS,
Jacob sat in the back of Abigail’s store and watched people read the paper hearts he and Gwen had written to each other in much better times. Kate sat on the small stage he’d built, strumming that guitar and singing her heart out as if she were the only person in the room.
Each folk-inspired song she sang seemed to reveal those emotions Kate typically hid so well. When she performed, it was almost as if she could finally be something other than her usual perky self. Jacob stilled as her voice filled the space, riveting the crowd in a way that surprised him. They seemed as enthralled with his sister as they were with the paper hearts.
Every once in a while, he’d catch a whispered phrase as customers combed through his personal life with reckless fervor. Pain hitched in his throat, and he ached for peace.
A middle-aged woman passed by his table. “Oh, aren’t these just the neatest little things?”
Jacob nodded, but he didn’t respond.
“I’m Trudy Sanderson. My husband is the principal at Loves Park Elementary.” She stood beside his table, obviously expecting a response. That was the polite thing to do, wasn’t it? And yet he really just wanted to be alone.
After too many seconds of silence, he reciprocated. “Jacob Willoughby.” A forced, phony smile accompanied his halfhearted introduction.
The woman tilted her head as she sized him up. “Oh, my. Aren’t you . . . ?”
His stomach knotted as he finished the sentence in his mind
—
“. . . the one who wrote the neatest little things?”
“. . . that doctor who bought this building? I read it in the paper.”
A cocktail of relief and dread swirled together in his chest. “That’s me.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “I think it’s just terrible what you’re doing to poor Abigail. She’s been here for years, you know. And who will take care of her if you take away her business? She doesn’t have a husband.”
Jacob glanced at his sister, who had just finished her set. She already owed him for the stage, but now she
really
owed him.
Another woman met his accuser beside the table, a matching glare on her face. She had obviously been eavesdropping. “Let’s go, Trudy. We have nothing to say to him.”
The two hurried off.
Once Kate’s concert was over, customers began to filter out of the store. Before leaving, some of them made their way to Kate, who smiled graciously while they undoubtedly heaped compliments on her. Instrumental music began to play through speakers in the ceiling.
“Do you need something else to drink?”
He looked up and saw Abigail approaching his table. Nothing about her seemed malicious, yet she was well on her way to turning the whole town against him.
“I’m good, thanks.”
He expected her to move on to the next table, but she just stood there. When he made eye contact, she looked caught like she didn’t realize she’d been staring.
“Thanks for helping me with the chairs,” she finally said. He got the impression being nice to him took a lot out of her.
“No problem.”
Never mind that Doris had already made it clear he would be responsible for taking all of the chairs back. “You just go ahead and keep those keys, Doctor,” she’d said. “That way you won’t forget you need to return the chairs safe and sound tonight.”
He’d considered protesting, but she’d hurried away. What he really wanted was to go get Junie from her friend’s house, tuck her in, and go to sleep himself.
But here he sat, the crowd substantially smaller than it had been earlier. The old ladies had all gone. Only one family
—a woman with two small children
—was still seated. The others milled around the shelves, a few making last-minute purchases.
“Your sister is really good,” Abigail said.
Kate moved toward them, a smile on her face.
“I asked her to come back next week,” Abigail said.
“Oh?”
“I said yes,” Kate said, still beaming.
The woman at the nearby table stood and put a hand on Kate’s shoulder. “That was so wonderful,” she said. “We’re just passing through Loves Park, and we saw all the commotion over here in this darling little store.”
Jacob stifled a groan.
“We’re so glad we stopped in.”
“Mama?” The little boy tapped on the woman’s arm.
“You looked like you were having a blast up there,” the woman continued, ignoring the boy. He ran back to the table.
“It was so much fun,” Kate said. “Abigail, thank you for letting me play.”
Abigail brushed her hair away from her face. “No, thank you. It was a wonderful night. Much more exciting than my typical Friday.” Abigail’s face flushed red as if she’d embarrassed herself. A habit of hers, it seemed.
“Well, we just loved it, didn’t we, kids?” The woman glanced back at the table and let out a gasp. “Avery! What’s wrong?”
Jacob moved aside to get a good visual of the little girl, whose skin had a distinct bluish tone to it. Her brother stood next to her, a worried look on his face.
“Avery, what happened?” The mother took the girl by the shoulders, then looked frantically around the store. “Please, someone, help me!”
Jacob put an arm around the woman and moved her aside. “Step back, please, ma’am. Kate, call 911.” He crouched beside the girl. “Avery, are you choking?”
The girl nodded, terror in her eyes. She wasn’t coughing or making any sound at all, so he pulled her to her feet and quickly administered the Heimlich maneuver. Three sharp thrusts. Avery went limp.
“No! Help!” the woman screamed, growing more and more panicked.
Jacob’s heart kicked into high gear, but he forced himself to remain calm. The last thing this mother needed was a doctor who let his own fear paralyze him. Still, a question nagged at the back of his mind.
What if I lose her?
He forced the unwelcome worry away, laid the girl down on the floor, and opened her mouth. He saw something lodged in her
throat, so he swept it out with his finger, then started CPR. After a few scary moments, Avery finally coughed.
He held her head, then gently raised her upright. “Avery, can you hear me?”
She grabbed her throat, then nodded, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She threw her arms around him, sobbing.
He hugged the girl and helped her to her feet. “You should chew your food more carefully next time.”
She nodded again, still seeming disoriented, and her mother pulled her into a tight embrace.
“The paramedics should be on their way. You need to let them take her in just to be sure there was no damage done.”
“Thank you so much,” the woman said through tears. “You saved her life.”
Around them, the remaining patrons had gathered. They’d likely gone without air themselves, waiting to see if the little girl came out alive.
“I’m glad I could help,” Jacob said, wishing he could’ve done so without the audience.
After a few seconds, someone in the back started clapping. Before long, the entire room broke out into applause, taking their turns shaking Jacob’s hand and thanking him.
The principal’s wife, who’d practically smacked him with anger earlier, walked straight up to him and poked a bony finger into his shoulder. “I might’ve misjudged you, Doctor.”
“Happens all the time,” he said.
“Still. What you did for that girl was pretty wonderful. I’d be happy to bring my business your way when you get the practice off the ground.”
Abigail stood only a few feet away from the conversation, and she’d obviously heard the remark. She swallowed, looked away, then disappeared into the back room. He wanted to follow but held himself back.
After the crowd dispersed, Kate appeared at his side. “Well, that was exciting.”
Jacob’s heart was still racing, a rush of adrenaline nearly preventing him from keeping his composure. Thankfully he’d gotten really good at faking it. “I thought I was going to lose her there for a second.” These were the kind of demons he could never fully get rid of.
The paramedics walked in, and Jacob gave them the necessary information on Avery. The little girl still sat at the table, her face a bit pale but otherwise composed.
“Thanks for saving my life,” she said as the paramedics began their examination.
The words hit him in just the right place, chipping away at the walls he’d carefully stacked around himself. “My pleasure, Avery.”
Kate put a hand on his arm as he stepped away. “That has to feel good.”
Jacob wanted to pretend it was all part of the job, but these days it wasn’t, and Kate would know that. He’d been working around the clock to get the new practice going, but it had been so long since he’d actually helped someone, he’d begun to wonder if he’d ever be a real doctor again.
He missed it. The healing. The helping. He wished he could do more.
Kate slung her purse over her shoulder and picked up her guitar case. “You ready to go, hero? Looks like it’s snowing pretty good out there.”
“Actually, I have some chairs to return to the church,” he said. “Maybe you could pick Junie up and get her to bed?”
Kate glanced up at the hearts fluttering in front of the ceiling vent. “Thanks for coming. It meant a lot to me.”
He silently accepted her apology. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”
Kate followed the last of the patrons out the door, leaving him alone in an otherwise-empty bookstore. He began stacking the
chairs against the back wall, wondering how long Abigail would hide herself away. After all the work she’d done, it had to be hard to hear one of her faithful patrons turn on her so quickly.
Just as he gathered the last of the chairs, she appeared in the doorway.
“You really don’t have to help me with these. I mean, it’s not your responsibility or anything,” she said, unnecessarily adjusting the positions of a few of the chairs.
“I think Doris would disagree.” He fished his keys from his pocket. “It was a great success,” he said after a long minute.
She stopped and met his eyes. “It was, I suppose. Though it doesn’t quite compete with saving someone’s life.”
He shrugged, looking away. It was unfortunate timing for her, he had to admit.
She glanced at the hearts above him, sadness on her face. “A part of me didn’t want to share them with everyone else.” She reached up and touched a pale-pink heart. “I liked being the only one who knew about them. That’s so selfish of me, isn’t it?”
Jacob looked away. Oh, he understood.
She pulled her coat on. “We should probably go.”
“I came here earlier to apologize to you,” he said.
She stopped.
“For Kelly. She shouldn’t have said the things she did to you
—at least not the way she said them.” He looked at her, feet of emptiness between them. “So I’m sorry.”
She waved him off. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s your building. You can do whatever you want with it, and after tonight, you won’t have any trouble getting business.”
Jacob took a few steps toward her. “What would you do with it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You mean if I were a rich doctor?”
He laughed. “Let’s go with that, yeah.”
She shrugged, shaking her head at the same time. “No one has ever asked me that.”
He studied her. He couldn’t help it, he realized. She seemed unaware of her own beauty, and perhaps that was what made her so beautiful.
Guilt followed the thought that had been dropped into his mind without his permission. Still, he couldn’t keep from watching her as her eyes seemed to drift away to a place locked somewhere inside her imagination.
“Show me,” he said.
She looked at him. Frowned. “What do you mean?”
He jangled the keys to the other side of the building
—his side. “Show me what you’d do.”
“You’re not serious.”
He walked toward the back of the room and stood by the door to the outside until she finally followed him.