Paper Hearts (19 page)

“Didn’t expect to find you here,” she said. “You scoping out the place for when you kick Abigail out?”

“Ursula, please.” Abigail’s brow had turned into a thin line of worry.

“I was just leaving,” Jacob said. He pulled a five-dollar bill out of his wallet and laid it on the counter, meeting Abigail’s eyes. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“It’s on me. Anytime.” She slid the bill back toward him, avoiding Ursula’s steely glare.

“I insist,” he said, leaving the bill where it was. “Have a great day, ladies.”

As he walked away, he heard the old lady chastise Abigail. Something about remembering who he was, the person who would eventually destroy Abigail Pressman’s life.

But as Jacob walked toward the door, the paper hearts caught his eye again, and it occurred to him that Abigail Pressman might inadvertently be the person to destroy his.

“K
ATE?”

No answer. Jacob flung his keys into the little container his sister had designated as the “key caddy” and took off his coat. He’d sped home from the bookstore, mind racing with a litany of worst-case scenarios.

Someone at school could find out what happened. They could tell Junie the truth. Junie, though bright for her age, would never understand, and worse, she’d be angry with him
 
—not only for his part in what happened to Gwen, but also because he’d lied to her about the whole thing.

She’d be permanently scarred and he’d have no choice but to move again, forcing her to leave any semblance of security they’d managed to find since moving to Loves Park.

“Kate?”

He could wring her neck. How could she have been so careless?

On second thought, how could
he
have been so careless? What
in the world did he think would happen, moving to a place he was distantly connected to? Starting over was a brilliant idea, but starting over in a place he’d sent packages to for years might not have been. He supposed he wasn’t quite ready to leave all of their memories behind.

Still, if he’d moved to Nevada, he’d have no idea the hearts were hanging in some woman’s bookstore in Colorado.

He should’ve moved to Nevada.

He’d been humiliated before, but not like this. Having his life’s love story plastered up in public did not sit well with someone who didn’t even have a Facebook account. It didn’t matter that no one knew it was his. He knew.

Personal lives were meant to be personal
 
—end of story.

He passed through the kitchen and into his study, the room that under normal circumstances would’ve been the perfect place for those morning prayers he used to rely on. Maybe one day he’d feel the desire to make amends with the Lord, but today was not that day. Not by a long shot.

“Kate? You here?”

He did a quick pass through the rooms and found them all empty. When he came back into the kitchen, he saw the door that led to the back porch was slightly cracked.

A chilly breeze blew in from outside, and through the glass door he saw Kate bundled up in a blanket from the guest room bed. She sat in the white Adirondack chair that had come with the house, though she’d turned it to face out toward the mountains, giving him only a slight glimpse of her face.

Still, he could tell she’d been crying.

Grief pushed its way up to the center of his throat and lodged in the form of a painful lump that begged to be melted.

He swallowed the pain and shoved thoughts of Gwen aside. How many times had he come home and held her through her tears?

And yet, since she’d gone, he’d cried only once. One time he’d
allowed himself the weakness. He needed to stay strong for Junie. And now for Kate.

But he took a step back. He couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t watch someone he loved vanish, all the life drained out of their eyes while he stood by, helpless to do anything for them. Couldn’t fail like that another time.

His hand hovered over the door handle. Kate swiped her face dry and buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking. He’d known something was wrong. He should’ve pushed her to tell him the truth when he first noticed, but now that he saw the toll it was taking on her, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know more.

And he hated himself for it.

As if she’d just found her resolve, she wiped her tears and stood. Before she caught him standing there, staring, he inched his way back from the door, picked up his coat, and left the kitchen. Then he turned and walked in again as if still searching for her.

“Kate?” he called, moving loudly through the room. “You here?”

She appeared in the doorway to the porch, looking as though she’d simply been outside soaking up the mountain air. How did she do that? If he hadn’t seen her, he’d never know she’d been crying.

But he did know. So now what?

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Kate closed the porch door and took a seat at the freestanding island at the center of the room.

“About that,” Jacob said. It might not be the best time to say anything, but he had questions for his little sister. “I stopped in at The Book Nook this morning.”

Kate propped her chin up with her fist and stared at him. “Because you like Abigail?”

He frowned. “What? No. Because I was rude to Abigail. Or Kelly was, I guess, and I didn’t do anything about it.”

“Ugh. Kelly.” Kate rolled her eyes. She’d done nothing to hide
the fact that she didn’t like the woman. Now that he was in business with her, Jacob wasn’t sure he liked her much either, but she’d been one of Gwen’s closest friends. And he’d made a commitment to open this practice with her as his business partner. Besides, whether he approved of her methods or not, she still offered a lot of solid advice about all the things he didn’t want to have to think about. These days, that was worth a whole lot.

“Kelly isn’t the issue here,” Jacob said. He glanced at Kate, hoping she was okay, realizing the anger he’d been feeling had subsided the second he saw her crying.

“Right. The issue is you and Abigail. And how you don’t want her to hate you.”

“Kate. The whole store is covered with paper hearts.” Jacob leaned against the counter and leveled his gaze.

She sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“What did you do with the hearts I asked you to throw away?”

Panic skittered across her face. “Oh, Jacob . . .” She brought a hand over her mouth.

He sighed. “Did you send the newest ones?”

She grabbed her purse and started rummaging through it. “Jacob, I’m so sorry.” Finally she pulled out a few plain white hearts. “I didn’t send all of them.”

He’d cut these hearts himself out of some scratch paper he’d found. Nothing like the ones Gwen had cut, which were usually colorful and bright and happy. There was something pathetic about his version.

Kate slid them across the counter. “I kept the ones that mentioned Loves Park. Just in case.”

Jacob didn’t bother informing her that she’d missed a few.

Had a conversation with a woman today in Old Town. Felt like I was cheating on you.

Living in Loves Park seems like a betrayal sometimes. I know how much you loved it here, G. But it’s the only place I can be close to you without feeling haunted. So sorry.

“I didn’t read them all, I promise.”

There was a third one, one where he mentioned Abigail’s bookshop.

You’d love this Book Nook, G. It’s got that kind of small-town atmosphere you like so much.

And Abigail Pressman would read the others and probably piece the whole thing together in a matter of days.

Jacob pushed himself away from the counter. “I came here because no one knew all this stuff, Kate. It was my chance to start over.” He raked his hands through his hair, a dull ache starting to pulse just above the bridge of his nose.

“But you’re not starting over. You’re standing still.” She glared at him as if she’d just issued a challenge.

“I don’t want to get into this with you right now. If you’re going to be around for a while, I need you to do what I ask
 
—not do what you think is best for me.” Jacob kept his tone even.

“I’m sorry.” She stared at her folded hands. “I tried to throw them away. I just couldn’t.” Her eyes filled with fresh tears. Sometimes he forgot that Gwen’s death affected other people besides him and Junie. Maybe that’s what this was about. Gwen had been the only sister Kate had ever had
 
—of course she was sad.

She could probably use a sister about now. Not a brother who didn’t know how to fix whatever it was that had her in tears on the back porch.

Besides, how could he be upset with her when he’d done exactly the same thing himself? This wasn’t the first envelope of homeless
hearts the postmaster had received. When he and Junie were moving, he’d gathered up the last strand he’d written, shoved it in a plain envelope, and sent it to Loves Park ahead of him. Somehow it seemed like the right thing to do, yet now he wished he’d simply stuck them in a box at the back of the closet.

Living here changed things. It changed everything. Had he mentioned Junie in his ramblings on those hearts he’d sent? He didn’t give a lot of care to what he was writing because he never expected to see them again.

“Gwen told me she sent them to the postmaster every year,” Kate continued. “When you said you were done with them, I guess it just seemed fitting. Like now you could have closure.”

“I think it’s going to take more than sending off a box of hearts for me to find closure.” He walked into the living room and stood in front of the windows, stared out at the mountains. The picture-perfect view seemed an incongruous backdrop to his broken life.

“Like not turning into the kind of person who destroys someone else’s life just to get what he wants?” She followed him.

“Don’t push me right now, Kate.” He walked away, afraid of what he might say if she didn’t back off. Afraid of what she might say if he didn’t leave. Almost everyone who knew what had happened wore kid gloves around him, but not Kate. And while he appreciated that she challenged him, right now he’d had just about enough.

He changed into his warm-up pants, a T-shirt, and a hoodie, then slipped out through the side door, heading off into the woods for the kind of run he only took when he had too much on his mind. Fast and furious.

Within seconds he was winded, the thin air not enough at this pace. He slowed to a jog.

The air was crisp, snow still caked on the ground, though their winter had been mild so far. Of course, it was only January. The unevenness underneath his feet kept him focused on his footfalls and not on the barrage of unwanted thoughts assaulting him.

Amid the clamor in his head, Jacob heard the same sentence repeating over and over again at the back of his mind
 
—almost like a prayer.
Please don’t let anyone find out the truth. For Junie.

And just like that, an indescribable peace seemed to wash over him, and his fear went away, for the moment at least. Somehow he trusted that he and Junie would be okay
 
—no matter what happened with his secret.

T
HE PAPER HEARTS
had already started doing their job. It was exactly what she’d been searching for
 
—a way to heighten interest in her store
 
—yet Abigail never would’ve thought to hang them up in the store on her own. Not those hearts. Not that story. But she couldn’t deny they seemed to have a power that captivated the entire town.

It had only been a couple of days, but word had spread. Tourists and locals had made their way into the store. Couples and singles alike came in, wrote on the hearts, and tucked them in the box. They shared their innermost thoughts, sometimes admitting feelings they’d been bottling for years. And each evening, Abigail and Mallory strung the newest hearts together and decorated the store with them.

Even Betsy and Romano had stopped in during a recent visit to town. Abigail supposed they were certain that writing on those hearts would solidify their love for each other.

She had been in a meeting with a supplier when her sister dropped by.

Thankfully.

As much as she hated to admit it, she still found Betsy’s engagement difficult to digest.

Abigail appreciated the attention the store was getting, especially since word had spread about the possibility of her losing the building. People wanted to rally for her, for The Book Nook. They wanted to be a part of what was happening, and she loved that.

But the envelope of hearts Gigi had set on her counter that morning had stolen most of her attention. Though it was ludicrous, she found herself worried for the fate of her couple. Another manila envelope, another pile of hearts apparently written only by the man
 
—it didn’t bode well for the lovers’ future.

What if something terrible had happened? What if she’d cheated on him and left? Or worse, what if he’d simply stopped loving her and realized his mistake after it was too late to get her back?

Thoughts turned to Jeremy, to their final real conversation.

“I just don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”

She viewed every relationship through the Jeremy lens.

But not this couple. They had to be different. He loved his wife in a way Jeremy had never loved Abigail, and if she was honest, the wife loved him in a way Abigail wasn’t sure she was even capable of.

She needed to believe they were okay. This couple had almost single-handedly restored her hope in romance again. She hadn’t even been looking for hope in that department. Not consciously, anyway.

As she put the finishing touches on the store in preparation for her first-ever Book Nook concert later that evening, Kate walked in, looking adorable in a way Abigail never had.

Jacob’s sister was trendy without trying. The kind of girl who
marched to her own drummer
 
—and didn’t seem to care if the pattern in her scarf clashed with the pattern in her shirt.

Somehow it worked for her.

She carried a guitar case and a large turquoise bag. She spotted Abigail and smiled, strode toward her, and set down her things. “This is really exciting.”

“For me too. Look.” Abigail motioned toward the stage Jacob had set up earlier. “I’ve been wanting to figure out a way to do this, and I guess meeting you was just the push I needed.”

Kate laughed. “I am pushy
 
—that’s a fact.”

Abigail grinned. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I was kidding. I know.” She laughed again
 
—the kind of bubbly, infectious laugh that made others want to laugh too.

Abigail walked over to the little stage in the corner. She’d been handing out concert flyers all week, and with the addition of the paper hearts, she’d had more customers than usual. She could only hope for a good turnout
 
—for Kate’s sake and for hers.

“You go ahead and get set up, and I guess let me know if you need anything. I’ve got some paperwork to take care of in the back, but feel free to interrupt.”

So that’s what I’m calling the paper hearts now? Paperwork?

Kate nodded and knelt down to open her guitar case. Abigail hadn’t meant to be dishonest; she simply needed to steal away
 
—finally
 
—just for a few minutes. To try to piece together the story of what had become of her couple.

She closed her office door and pulled out the new envelope, then collected the hearts in neat piles on her desk. Thankfully this couple wrote the date on the back of each heart, so she began by putting them in chronological order. After about a half hour, she’d nearly finished when there was a knock at her door.

Panicked, she looked for any way to hide her new obsession but came up empty. She decided to hope for the best
 
—that the person
on the other side of the door was Mallory or Aaron or someone she could boss away.

“Come in.”

No such luck. Kate Willoughby stood in her office, shutting the door behind her and looking a little out of place.

Abigail stood and moved in front of her desk, wishing the hearts would magically disappear.

“Am I interrupting?” Kate asked, worried.

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

Kate glanced past her. Caught. Abigail’s face flushed.

“What’s all that?”

Abigail swallowed around her embarrassment. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, but Mallory sent me back here to get you.” She smiled. “You’ve got an interesting problem out there.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Do you have everything you need to play? I called a guy from my church on Tuesday
 
—he said he’d bring over a microphone and some other portable thing.”

“It’s not that, Abigail,” Kate said, pulling her toward the door. “Look.”

Heart racing, Abigail couldn’t help beating herself up for being irresponsible enough to leave the front of the store when everyone else was setting up for the evening.

All because of her obsession with those paper hearts.

As they entered the store, Abigail gasped, stumbling backward and nearly knocking Kate over.

Kate steadied Abigail with a hand on her shoulder. “It’s something, isn’t it?”

People. Clusters and clusters of people. They filled the store from one side to the other.

“Are you famous?” Abigail asked, not looking at Kate.

She nudged Abigail. “I don’t think they’re here because of me.”

Her little store had never had so many people in it for as long as it had been open. She couldn’t believe the chaos. All the tables were taken, and small crowds were situated around the perimeter of the floor. “Where’d they all come from?”

As if she were a genie that had been summoned, Ursula appeared beside her. “It was in the
Courier
.”

“I had no idea anyone still read the newspaper,” Abigail said.

“Well, it was on the Loves Park Internet too.”

Abigail frowned. “You mean the Loves Park website?”

Ursula’s brow became one tight, bushy line. “Everyone is on it, Abigail. The website. Even I have over one hundred friends.” She hugged her bag to her chest and glared.

“Do you mean Facebook?”

For several seconds, Ursula didn’t flinch. “Whatever it’s called, the hearts were on it. Told you all you needed was a gimmick. This town is smitten, like schoolgirls with their first crush. You’re golden. No way the doctor can kick you out now.”

Abigail’s eyes went wide and she cleared her throat, silently begging Ursula, for once, to take a hint. What if Kate was offended?

“It’s fine,” Kate said. “I don’t want him to kick you out either. But you’ve got to cut him a little slack. He wasn’t always this cranky. He’s just . . .” Kate’s voice trailed off as something near the door caught her eye. “He’s here. Huh. Junie’s hanging out with a new friend tonight. I guess he got bored.”

Abigail followed Kate’s gaze to the front door, where, sure enough, Dr. Jacob Willoughby had just come in. She took a moment to watch him maneuver through the crowd, admiring how he looked out of place yet perfectly comfortable at the same time. He had such an easiness about him in spite of the troubled look that always furrowed his brow.

And he sure was attractive.

But he was the enemy. He and that woman. That woman he
probably had a thing for. Within seconds Abigail felt herself shrink as if everyone could read her mind, as if everyone would know how foolish she was for even thinking the doctor was handsome. He would never look twice at her.

And yet, when Abigail glanced across the swarm of people, she met his eyes.

He was still in the middle of the crowd, but his eyes had found
her
.

She told herself to focus on the fact that she’d turned the store into the talk of the town in just one week. Sure, it had been completely accidental, but he didn’t need to know that. If he and that woman booted her out, or even raised her rent, the town would revolt and their doctor’s office would go under before it even started.

They had to let her stay now, didn’t they?

Jacob inched through the crowd until he finally reached Abigail and Kate
 
—and Ursula, who made a point of ignoring him.

“You came?” Kate seemed genuinely surprised.

“Oh, did I have a choice?” His eyes widened.

“I was only pretending to threaten you. I would’ve been fine if you stayed home.”

“Nah,” he said with a shrug. “Couldn’t miss your big night.”

Something about him read sweet. A side of him Abigail hadn’t seen before. She liked it.

“This is quite a turnout,” he said to Abigail. “You must be some marketer.”

Abigail smiled.

Gigi and Doris appeared in their circle in much the same way Ursula had
 
—like magic. Gigi leaned closer to Jacob. “Abigail’s store is a town treasure, Mr.
 
—Dr.
 
—Willoughby,” she said. “You must know how very well loved she and The Book Nook are.”

He glanced at Abigail. “That’s not so hard to believe.”

Abigail’s heart stopped for a second.
It’s not?

“It would be a
shame
to see anything
happen
to this place, don’t you think?” Gigi said, emphasizing random words as she spoke.

“Gigi, it’s okay,” Abigail said hurriedly. “You ladies need to put your heads together on something other than my store.”

“Oh? I thought that was our top priority.”

Jacob raised a brow.

“No, Gigi, the top priority is finding chairs for these people to sit in.” Abigail wrung her hands. She’d never anticipated this kind of response to her coffee shop concert.

She could hear people talking about the paper hearts tradition, and the counter had run out of blank hearts twice already. It seemed the Volunteers were right
 
—this town loved romance, and she’d captured something pretty special.

“Loves Park Presbyterian has lots of folding chairs. Pastor won’t mind if we use them,” Doris said.

Their little circle had Jacob looking
 
—and probably feeling
 
—more awkward than Abigail had ever seen him. He shifted his weight and folded his arms, but he still looked like he’d rather be having his wisdom teeth pulled than be standing there with them.

“Are you sure?” Abigail was desperate.

“’Course I’m sure. I’ll just send him a phone note and tell him not to call the cops when you go get them.” Doris riffled through her purse until she produced her ancient cell phone.

“A phone note?” Abigail frowned.

“A note over the phone.”

“A text?”

Doris waved a hand in Abigail’s face. “You kids and your fancy names for everything. Whatever you call it, Pastor is getting one. Now, go get your chairs. They’re in the basement.”

She handed Abigail a small key ring with two silver keys on it. As church organist, Doris had the run of the place, though Abigail suspected it had more to do with the fact that the woman had worked as the church secretary for years. When she retired,
nobody had asked for her keys
 
—and she had no intention of turning them over.