The House on Blackberry Hill: Jewell Cove #1 (Jewel Cove) by Donna Alward

too important.” She felt tension build at the base of her neck. So the town had pestered Marian. They’d probably approach her, too. She should be prepared for that.
    “Maybe she wanted to make up for that by leaving you the estate.”
    “It’s not like I can exactly ask her, can I?” Abby replied bitterly. There’d been ample time for Marian to connect with Iris or even Abby, but she never had. Not once. The idea of selling it outright and being well shot of it had a certain allure. “Look, as I said, I’ll consider your offer. I can’t promise more than that.”
    “That’s all I ask.” He sat back in his chair and she examined his face once again. Did he really have to be so good-looking? It wasn’t fair. Maybe it made her shallow but it was harder to say no to a man like Tom than it would be if he were short, fat, and balding.
    But it was more than just good looks with Tom. He was so sure of himself, so confident in his abilities. She envied him his self-assurance. It came naturally to him, while she had to work at it every day.
    She cut into the rest of her sandwich with vigor, Tom be damned. She was hungry and she was tired and she was starting to come around to his way of thinking and didn’t want to. If she hired him—and it was a big if—he would be at the house all the time. She would see him on a regular basis. She would be tied to him for weeks . And while the idea of being tied to someone like him was attractive, in reality it would be trouble. He was interested in her house and that was all.
    And wasn’t that a laugh. Someone was interested in her for her money when all her life she’d barely had two pennies to rub together. It was why she had to keep a clear and logical head about this whole thing.
    “What do you do, Abby? For a job, I mean?”
    She finished the last crumb of French bread and pushed her plate aside, feeling ridiculously giddy that he’d called her Abby instead of Abigail or Miss Foster. “I’m a teacher. Kindergarten and grade one.”
    His smile widened and his eyes gleamed. “Of course you are.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning you look like a teacher. Sound like one, too.” He tapped the rim of his glass. “Do you read?”
    She smiled then. “I would hope so. Being a teacher and all.”
    His lips twitched. “I mean for pleasure.”
    “Constantly.” The admission came quickly. Reading took her away from reality. Taught her new things and took her places she could only dream of. As a kid she’d always had her nose in a book.
    “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