Paper Hearts (21 page)

Once outdoors, Abigail hugged her coat around her. Snow blew at them with a force she hadn’t expected. Jacob hurried with the keys and finally pushed open the door to the other side of the building, holding it ajar as she passed through before him.

“I didn’t know it was so bad out,” he said, closing the door behind them.

She laughed. “That’s Loves Park for you. Sunny and perfect in the morning and a whiteout blizzard by nightfall.”

“You don’t think it’s that bad, do you? We have chairs to return.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re just dying to put all those chairs back in the church basement.”

Jacob smiled, and for the briefest second the pain that usually bubbled at his surface seemed to subside. He motioned to the former mercantile. “Well?”

Abigail hesitated. “Um . . .”

Worry settled on his face. “I’m sorry. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Of course not.” She turned her back to him and inhaled deeply.

Maybe she could make him understand that this building was more than just brick walls and wood floors. This building was her future. Everything she’d been planning for and dreaming of
 
—it was all wrapped up in one place.

But she couldn’t say that. Not out loud. Not to him.

Especially not now that she’d lost any of the leverage the paper hearts, the concert, the family days had brought her. None of that mattered when she was competing with a local hero.

She saw the way they’d all reacted to him saving that little girl. They were as smitten with Jacob as they were with the paper hearts. And by morning, she was sure, it would be all over town.

Standing in the mercantile used to energize her. All the ideas that spun through her mind. Tonight, though, it only made her sad.

“I’m not really a businesswoman,” she said, still facing away from him.

He took a step closer. She could feel him standing only a few feet away. “Did you spend your evening in the same place I did?”

She smiled, looked down at her feet, standing on the wide wood planks she’d always loved.

“I mean, I don’t care as much about the money
 
—” she turned to him again
 
—“the way businesspeople do. I want to do well and be successful, but expanding my store was never about money.”

He was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her, and for the first time, her nerves didn’t come unraveled under his gaze.

“What’s it about then?”

She dared to meet his eyes, held them for several long seconds. In those seconds, she almost felt like she had been granted a sixth sense
 
—the ability to hear and see and smell every little thing. Time stopped.

But she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t talk about her father and what
it had meant to her when he left her the store. Couldn’t talk about how this store was her attempt to fill the void a broken heart had left. Couldn’t cross the line and open up to this man who had too much power over her already.

“What’s to stop you from stealing all my ideas for your clinic?”

He grinned. “Nothing, I guess.”

Quietly, she ran a hand over the mercantile countertop. “I’d leave this,” she said. “It was handmade by Harriet’s grandfather. Her family owned the building since it was built, years ago.”

“It’s amazing. Kelly wants to tear it out.”

Abigail bit back the words she wanted to say. She waved a hand toward the back wall. “I’d have built-in shelves installed here and fill this whole wall with the work of local artists.” Abigail could see it as clearly as ever. “The center of the store would be a showcase for furniture I’ve restored.” She gestured toward the spot she meant, hoping he was beginning to picture it too. “On the weekends, I’d host classes for the community. Some things I might teach myself.”

“Like bracelet making?”

She laughed. “Yes, I do have a knack for that, don’t I?”

“According to my daughter, yes,” he said.

“I’d have art classes, but then I’d bring in teachers to do workshops in all the things I wish I knew how to do. Knitting. Jewelry making. Watercolors.” She could see the tables lined up in the center of the store. She could hear the women coming together, forming a unique bond with each other and with her
 
—the kind of friendships she’d always dreamed of having.

“I’d paint the walls a creamy white. Get rid of the dark. I’d knock out the wall between the two spaces and let natural light fill the place. I love the idea of opening it up.” She pivoted on the balls of her feet. How could this dream be so real and yet so far out of her grasp? “I’d sell the kind of items you couldn’t find anywhere else. Antique quilts. Hand-painted signs. Vintage treasures.”

“So would there be a Do Not Enter sign for men on the outside of your store?”

She laughed. “It does sound girlie, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit.” He leaned against the counter in a way that embodied easygoing and laid-back. How he could do that, she didn’t understand. She almost never felt laid-back.

His gaze left her and she followed it outside, where the wind seemed to have kicked up even more, blowing snow feverishly.

“Did you hear anything about a winter storm?” He walked toward the window. “It’s pretty nasty out there.”

Just then his phone buzzed. He took it out, frowned, and answered. “Hello? Kate, slow down.” Pause. “Are you okay? . . . Is she okay?” Pause. “All right, I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

When he hung up, he looked at Abigail, the color gone from his face. “Kate picked Junie up from a friend’s, and they slid off the road and into a ditch near our house.”

“Are they okay?”

“She said an ambulance took them to the hospital to check them over.” He paced. “I need to get there. I’m sorry. Can we do the chairs later?”

Abigail watched as panic washed across his face. He moved toward the back door.

“I’ll come with you,” she said.

He stopped and looked at her like he was making up his mind if he wanted her there.

“Or not,” she backtracked. “Maybe you need to go alone.”

“You’d come with? Are you sure?”

Was that relief on his face? “Of course.” She met him at the door, followed him into the blizzard, and pulled herself into his truck.

Inside, she shivered, the cab of the truck every bit as cold as the outside.

He started the engine but didn’t pull away. Instead he sat still
in the driver’s seat, hands on the steering wheel, head down, eyes closed. Was he . . . praying?

Or was he simply trying to bear the weight of what Kate had said on the other line?

She reached across, put a hand on his, and said a silent prayer of her own. His eyes opened and he took a deep breath, then let it out.

“Thanks for coming with me, Abigail,” he said. “I just need them to be okay.”

Something about the way he said it struck Abigail, and for the first time since the day they’d met, she wondered exactly what had happened to cause the pain behind Dr. Jacob Willoughby’s mysterious eyes.

T
HE DRIVE TO THE HOSPITAL
would’ve normally taken five minutes, but in this blizzard, it was exactly thirty-seven minutes before he pulled into the parking lot of St. Andrew Memorial Hospital. Abigail chose not to fill the silence with questions, though she kept asking herself why she’d come along. Instead she prayed in her head, asking God to take care of her new friend and Jacob’s daughter.

She’d been so consumed with her own troubles lately, a part of her felt good to turn her attention toward praying for someone else for a while, even if it was the man who’d been the cause of so many of her worries.

He turned off the engine and stared at the hospital, dread flooding his face.

“Jacob?”

He looked at her, startled, as if she’d interrupted his private thoughts or he’d forgotten she was there.

“You okay?”

He didn’t look okay. He looked like he might throw up, but he nodded and got out of the truck.

She met him on the sidewalk in front of the building. He stood, hands in fists at his sides, staring at the front door. He seemed unable to go inside.

“Come on,” she said, slipping her hand around his arm and starting toward the door.

Inside, the dazed look on his face only worsened. Sweat gathered at his hairline and on his top lip. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. She wondered if he might pass out.

Abigail led him to a chair in the waiting room of the ER. “Sit here,” she said. “I’ll go find out where they are.”

Her mind flooded with the worst kinds of scenarios. What precisely had Kate said to him on the phone? What if Junie was really hurt? What if Jacob’s daughter was somewhere in this building fighting for her life?

Heart racing, she tapped on the window to get the attention of the person working the front desk, a large woman whose name tag read
Ina
. “I need some information. My friend’s sister and daughter were in an accident.”

“Name?”

“Willoughby. Kate and Junie Willoughby.”

The woman flipped through some pages on her desk. Abigail glanced at Jacob, who sat stock-still in the exact spot where she’d left him. She wasn’t sure he’d blinked or breathed since they walked in the door.

“And who are you?” She looked up at Abigail with a scowl.

“Just a friend.”

“I can’t give you any information if you’re not a relative.”

Abigail glanced at Jacob. “My friend is a relative.”

“Then have him come over here and I’ll give him the update.”

Abigail leaned in closer. “He’s having a hard time with this
 
—can you just tell me if they’re okay?”

“Rules are rules.”

Of course. She walked over to Jacob, who was fixated on the emergency room doors, his expression trancelike. “Jacob?”

No response.

“I need you to come to the desk with me to find out where they are.”

He shook his head, though she got the distinct feeling it happened involuntarily.

She pulled him to his feet. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go. I’ll be okay.”

He stood a foot taller than Abigail, but she could tell by the way he looked past her that he’d set his sights on the front desk.

“Are you sure?”

He met her eyes though he didn’t seem to have an ounce of resolve in his own.

But he nodded and started toward the counter. The woman behind the desk glanced up at him. “Willoughby?”

He nodded again, showing her his driver’s license.

“You’re the one who saved that little girl’s life tonight, right? Paramedics were talking about it. Come on back.”

He started toward the doors, leaving Abigail standing at the counter, unsure if she should follow or wait. She wasn’t family. In truth, she had no business being here at all. They weren’t even friends. But here she was. And her insecurity kicked into overdrive.

This isn’t about you, Abigail.

She started toward the waiting room chairs, thinking through her options. But before she could sit down, Jacob was beside her again, grabbing her hand. “Come with me?”

Abigail stared at his hand around hers as the oversize double doors opened to reveal the woman from the desk, waiting to take them to Jacob’s family.

“Of course,” she said.

She expected him to let go of her hand as soon as they started
down the hall, but instead he slipped his fingers through hers and squeezed a little tighter. Somehow she had the distinct impression that he was relying on her strength to walk him down the hall.

God,
she prayed silently,
help me to know what he needs. And please let Kate and Junie be okay.
Even in that moment, she found it odd how overcome she was with the desire to pray for Jacob and his family. And it was about more than feeling helpless
 
—it was about truly, truly wanting them to be okay.

They followed the woman down the hall to a large room at the back of the ER. Couldn’t she have at least told them Kate and Junie were okay? Couldn’t she have said, “Don’t worry; they’re still alive”? Anything would be better than this silence.

She stopped at the door to room 109 and held out a hand as if she were a magician’s assistant.
Ta-da.

And then she walked away.

Jacob stood still for a beat. Then two. He squeezed her hand again, though she was pretty sure he had no idea he was still holding it.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Go ahead.”

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, Abigail saw tears gathering in the corners. This was a man who had secrets she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The kind that hurt to remember.

Then, as if he’d found a quiet resolve somewhere, he pushed open the door.

The room was sterile the way all hospital rooms are, but his little girl lay in a bed that seemed to swallow her whole.

Jacob took a step back when he saw her.

Kate jumped up from a chair in the corner and rushed to him. “She’s okay. She’s just sleeping. Her leg is broken and she has some cuts and scrapes.”

Kate’s eyes landed on Jacob’s hand, holding Abigail’s. She glanced at Abigail, who gave her a silent shrug.

“Jacob,” Kate said, forcing him to look at her, “she’s going to be just fine.”

“She’s asleep,” he finally acknowledged, letting out a huge, shaky sigh of relief. “She’s going to be fine, though?”

“They gave her something because she was pretty worked up,” Kate said. “When she found out she had to go to the hospital, she kind of lost it.”

Jacob looked at his sister. Something silent passed between them, and Abigail felt like an intruder. “I can leave you guys. I’ll go get coffee or something.”

“Stay,” Jacob said. He looked at her. “Can you?”

Kate’s brows shot up in surprise. Abigail imagined hers did the same.

She said nothing. Instead she took off her coat and sat down in one of the chairs against the wall, out of the way.

Kate rested a hand on Jacob’s arm. “They’re going to set her leg now that you’re here. They just need you to sign some paperwork.”

Jacob’s jaw tensed. “Fine.”

“It’s okay, Jacob,” Kate said.

“It’s not okay, Kate. Look at her.” Jacob turned toward his daughter. “She’s just lying there. She looks like
 
—”

“She is fine,” Kate reassured him.

Abigail noticed a few scrapes above Kate’s eyebrow.

He sighed. “Tell me what happened.”

Kate pressed her lips together, then began. “I went to pick her up like you told me to, and it was slick but I thought we would be okay. Until we hit the hill leading to your street. It wasn’t plowed, and I kept sliding. I couldn’t get up over the hill, and a car came from the other direction and lost control. It hit us and knocked us off the road and into a tree.” Kate’s eyes filled with tears. “Junie’s leg was pinned in the car. They had to cut her out.”

Abigail expected Jacob to take Kate in his arms, hug her, and tell her none of this was her fault, but he did none of those things.
Instead he stared at the child in the bed, making Abigail wonder if he’d heard a word his sister had said.

Kate stood still for a long moment and finally glanced at Abigail. “I’m going to go find the doctor.”

She left them alone, a palpable pain filling the room.

But Abigail had the distinct impression that the pain had less to do with Junie’s broken leg and more to do with something deep and buried in the past.

More than ever, she wanted to know what secrets the doctor held so close to his heart.

Jacob sat down next to his daughter, carefully taking her hand as if it were valuable and could break in pieces at any moment. Abigail couldn’t help wondering what it would take to get her landlord to open up and let her in on whatever it was that brought this kind of grief to the surface.