Handle with Care (3 page)

* * *

Chapter 3 ~ Walk in the Park
To see if he was just being polite
,
or
genuinely extending an invitation, Abby dared a look up at him. His smile
appeared welcoming. Abby felt better than she had in months, so she decided it
might be a good idea.

"Sure.
For a little while," she agreed. With a smile at Chloe, she added,
"Thank you for inviting me."

Chloe
skipped off ahead of them as they walked beside each other. Abby found it
interesting how easily they fell into step, their footfalls matching one another’s.

"I'm
sorry if I brought up a delicate subject," Abby mentioned softly. Craig
glanced over at her and she felt the intensity of his inspection once more.

"It's
alright," he assured. "It was hard to lose Rachel, of course, and
very difficult for Chloe. But, well…" he paused as he looked ahead at his
daughter skipping along, "I knew I couldn't dwell on the loss or she would
never heal."

Abby
canted her head slightly to the side as she looked up at him. "And you?
Have you been able to heal?"

His
jaw tensed slightly. "Well, I keep myself busy." His voice caught
with emotion, then he explained, "I'm in real estate and the demand for
housing is actually growing in this area."

Abby
noticed how he did not exactly answer her question. "And you like to
fish?" She recalled how he had looked the day before. Today he was dressed
in slacks and a loose knit top, which was in much better shape. In the absence
of his cap, his curls still fell perfectly around his head and brow.

"Yes,
I actually spend as much time as I can outside. I’m the volunteer park ranger
for our little town," he joked. "I keep an eye on the wildlife,
including
my daughter." He chuckled.

Abby
shared his laugh quietly, a real laugh, not an imitation one. "It’s very
beautiful here," she said as they stepped onto the sandy beach surrounding
the lake.

"It
is." He let his gaze linger on the creases and curves of her features. He
could not figure out why he found her so intriguing. They fell silent for a few
moments as Chloe ran along the shoreline, spooking the birds gathered there.

"You
know, most people don't visit here," he said quietly. "There are
plenty of more tourist-oriented places to vacation." He kicked his shoe
lightly into the sand, leaving an indent.

"Is
that so?" Abby mused.

"But
you chose to come here," he reminded her.

"Is
that a problem?" she asked, with a roughness around the edge of her voice.
"Is there a ‘no visitor’ policy in Winchester Bay?"

Craig
winced as he realized he may have pushed her a little too hard.

"I
was just trying to learn a little bit about you," he said calmly, as he
sought out the cinnamon shade of her eyes. "I didn't mean that as rudely
as it came out. You are a bit of a puzzle. An intriguing puzzle." The last
said with a sincere smile which almost distracted her from the curious twinkle
in his eyes.

Abby
sighed and ran the palms of her hands across her cheekbones to clear away the
emotions that surfaced when she had been reminded she was just visiting. One
day she would have to return to her reality, a place where she no longer fit.

"No,
it isn't you," she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not myself right
now. I really came here for some isolation. I should probably go." She
started to turn away from him and was surprised when his hand encircled the
crook of her elbow. It was not a forceful gesture. Still, the physical contact
was disruptive, since she had hidden herself away as deeply as possible. The
unexpected connection to someone rattled her.

"In
my experience," he spoke gently, "nothing good ever comes from
isolation."

Abby
stared hard at his fingers, gently closed around her elbow. Only then did he
seem to notice he was holding her. He pulled his hand away swiftly and his
cheeks flushed.

"In
my experience," Abby countered, with annoyance coloring her tone,
"being nosy leads to knowing things you wish you didn't."

Craig
arched one brow at her harsh words. "I wasn't being nosy," he
replied, his tone even but his eyes possessing a glint of anger. "Forgive
me for taking an interest. I won't make that mistake again."

"Great,"
Abby smiled tensely.

"Great,"
he replied curtly, utterly baffled by the entire exchange. Everything about
Abby confused him. Since his wife died, he hadn’t the slightest interest in another
woman and did not believe he ever would. It was not because he was bitter; his
life was full, with his daughter to care for, and his work to manage. His love
of nature kept him balanced. Craig had not missed that type of companionship.
More accurately, he did his best not to slow down long enough so that he would
miss it.

He
watched as Abby turned and walked back across the sand. He could see in the way
her shoulders slumped and the way she walked - her steps were weary - she
carried something very heavy with her
. But that’s no excuse for being rude
,
he told himself.

"What
did you do?" Chloe whined when she ran up to her father.

"What
did
I
do?" He shot back. "I didn't do anything."

"Yes,
you did. You did something," Chloe pouted, pointing to Abby, her figure
disappearing across the beach.

* * *

Later
that day, Craig dropped Chloe off at her friend’s house to play and made his
way to the sheriff's station. When he walked in, the sheriff waved him straight
into his office.

He
hung up the phone, pointing to the chair across from him. "Craig, how are
you doing today?"

"Good!
Good," Craig said with obvious distraction. "I met the woman who’s
staying on Pat Miles’ boat."

"Right.
Abigail, I think?" The sheriff nodded as he glanced over some papers.
Neither of them knew Pat very well. He was one of a few residents who came and
went when it suited him.

"Yes,
Abigail," Craig nodded slowly
,
his eyes
narrowing. "She seems a little strange to me," he frowned and rubbed
his chin.

"Strange,
how?" The sheriff looked up. He trusted Craig's opinion and often relied
on him as an honorary deputy of sorts, to keep an eye on what was happening in
the town.

"It's
odd, Paul," Craig said as he leaned forward in the worn faux-leather
chair. "It's like she's hiding something."

Paul
frowned and tapped his fingers lightly on the table. Secrets weren’t all bad,
he decided
.
"Well, you know city folk
always have some kind of drama, Craig. I wouldn't read too much into it."

Craig
shifted in his chair and frowned again. "I just can't shake it," he
said quietly. "It's like there's something about her -"

 "Oh,
I see." Paul drew the words out as he sat back in his chair with a loud
squeak of the swivel mechanism. He had been the one to find Rachel the day she
died. Dense fog, and terrible weather, caused her to lose control of the car.
It was a simple accident, but there was nothing simple about a man losing his
wife, or a child her mother. Those types of things did not happen too often in
Winchester Bay. It had broken the hearts of every resident.

"You
see what?" Craig responded, bristling as he met Paul's eyes.

"Well,
Craig, it's been over a year and—"

"And
what?" Craig dared him to continue, his jaw clenching.

"Maybe
you see something in this woman, something you’re interested in?" Paul
suggested
,
cautiously.

Craig
burst out with a bitter laugh and shook his head. "Wow, Paul, trying to
play matchmaker?" he teased, irritation replaced by a trust in Paul’s good
intentions.

"Hey,
I have nothing to do with your interest in Abigail," he pointed out. “You
met her all on your own!’

"Abby,"
Craig corrected, softly.

"Abby,
is it?" Paul replied and tried to hide a grin.
"Well, all I’m saying is sometimes life changes the way we think,
the plans we make. Sometimes it just sneaks up on us."

Craig
started to argue with his friend, but in truth he couldn’t completely deny it.
When Abby had smiled at him, he liked the way her eyes crinkled at the edges,
and how it accentuated the fullness of her lips. He never even noticed those
things on other women. Maybe it was his slight attraction to her that made him
think she was hiding something.

"Well,
either way," Craig shrugged, "I'm not interested in a relationship. I
have everything I need in my life."

Paul
shuffled the papers on his desk and cleared his throat. He had been very good
friends with Rachel as well, and if there was one thing he knew for certain,
her first concern had always been Chloe. He knew Craig was doing a great job
raising his daughter. But it would break Rachel's heart to think of her
daughter growing up without a mother.

“And
what about Chloe? Does she?” Paul asked quietly, and then braced himself.

Craig
was an even tempered man. He always had been. Even when Rachel passed away, his
only reaction had been quiet
devastation. He
did not bemoan the unfairness of his loss. There was no anger. Instead he had
grieved, and then turned his attention to his child. But in that moment, as
Paul questioned him, the fury in Craig's eyes was more than evident.

“Don't
ever ask me that question again,” he said, not raising his voice, but still
making his point. Craig rose and glowered at his friend. “I will give Chloe
everything she could ever need.” With that, he turned and walked out of the
office, slamming the door shut behind him. The other officers in the station
all looked up with surprise, but they did not question Craig.
Everyone understood his right to pain.

Paul
sighed as he looked at the door. “Some things can't be given,” he murmured to
himself. He knew he had crossed a line, but it had been necessary. Craig shut
himself down in many ways after Rachel died. Urging him to open back up was
something only Paul could do.

* * *

Abby
walked back toward the marina. She was glad to be done with talking, and
especially answering Craig’s questions.
Why is
he so nosy?
Her irritation with him started to subside the moment she
walked away.
Why was he watching me?
His incessant prying and scrutiny
put a damper on an otherwise delightful visit to the lake. Abby noticed she
felt at peace being there. She experienced something else, something which had
escaped her for months on end, something she thought she’d never experience
again – joy
.
Thoughts of
Chloe playing entered her mind, and she smiled.
No one stopped Abby along the way. No one even said “Hello.” She was focused on
putting one foot in front of the other, and only that. She was surprised when
she came across the marina so soon; she wasn’t aware she had been moving that
quickly. She couldn’t recall hearing anyone, or seeing anyone. It was as though
time and space had folded and dumped her there. Abby wasn't particularly lost
in thought; this time, it was her thoughts that were lost. For the first time
in a long time, her mind had not been flooded with regret; it was rather calm.
And that was strange.
Could it be this place?
She mused at how silly
Chloe looked as she chased birds along the water’s edge, and secretly wished
she could have chased them, too.
It was nice to laugh and smile again
.
Abby’s thoughts turned to Craig. She was suspicious of him, and uneasy with all
his attention.
Why all the pressure? The probing? Could it really be just
idle curiosity?
Abby’s bark had been more of a knee-jerk reaction. She had
been hounded for so long that she suspected everyone’s intentions. Her new
tendency, toward thoughtless retorts, was the whole reason she stayed on the
boat and away from people.
What if he really meant nothing by it?
She
cringed, and bit her bottom lip.
Uh,
if that is true, then he must
think I’m a crazy psycho woman – a certifiable bitch.
Abby felt embarrassed
as she realized her reactions were probably over the top.
What do I say if I
see him again? “I’m sorry?”

Abby
boarded the aging houseboat and headed for the kitchen, deciding to check it,
once again, for food. There
wasn’t any, and
she had no clue where to eat dinner. She didn’t want to go back to that diner -
it would mean dealing with more people. She was all talked out. Realizing
Monday would mean more people in the grocery
store, more talking and more questions, prompted Abby to venture out again.
It's
still light out. Maybe I can catch a cab?
She wound a scarf around her
neck, checked her hair in the mirror, and headed out.

* * *

Craig
was furious when he walked out of the sheriff station and onto the street. He
knew Paul had meant well, but Chloe’s well-being was a very sensitive issue for
him. Truth was, it did concern him she might have to grow up without a woman's
hand. It pierced him
,
daily. As he started
walking down the sidewalk, hoping to cool off, he saw Abby.
She was standing at the entrance of Bay Harbor, with her purse slung over her
shoulder, glancing at her watch. She had been waiting for a cab to take her to
the grocery store for over an hour. Twice the dispatcher had called to check
the address she had given them.
Twice.
What
idiots!
Apparently
Winchester Bay is too tiny for them to find
.

When
Craig spotted her standing there, he started to turn away. He did not want to
deal with his conflicting emotions about her when his temper was already short.
Conversely, Abby saw him walking toward her and
sighed with relief. She waved her hand and offered a generous smile, knowing
their last encounter had not ended well.

“Hi,
Abby,” he said courteously. He did not want to be rude. “Is everything okay?”

“No,
not really,” she frowned. “I know I'm probably not your favorite person right
now, but I was wondering if the offer for a lift to the grocery store might
still be good?”

Craig
swept his eyes over her and drew a slow breath as the last of his anger
subsided. He didn't think it was the wisest choice to go off alone with her,
but he also couldn't turn down someone who was in need.

“Sure.”
He nodded. “Chloe's staying with one of her friends, so it'll only be us. Is
that okay?”

Abby
tensed a little, as she had anticipated the child would be a good buffer.
“Actually, maybe I can wait for the cab,” she said as her phone began to ring.

Craig
smirked, folding his arms as she answered.

“What
do you mean, you've given up?” she gasped into the phone. After a few harsh
words, she hung up. Biting into her bottom lip she glanced nervously over at
Craig to discover he had one brow raised and keys dangling from a fingertip.

“No
charge, I promise.” He smiled, hoping to ease her tension.

Abby
managed a smile in return. “Thanks.”

* * *

Craig's
truck was more of an SUV; an older model, but very well maintained. Its shiny
red paint stood out like a beacon amidst the mild hued cars they passed on the
road. Abigail was impressed at how clean he kept his car; even the interior was
spotless. Her car, on the other hand, was quite a mess, cluttered beyond
belief. She often lived out of it, grabbing a snack on the way to work or
picking up dinner on the way home. She had no idea how he kept it so clean when
he had a child. Bemused, she looked over at Craig to ask him a question and
noticed he was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles had gone
white.

As
he began to turn off the main road
,
onto the
two-laned highway, Craig glanced over at her and his expression darkened.
Abigail was a little startled and unsettled by his grimace. She became acutely
aware she had accepted a ride from a virtual stranger. No matter how cute his
kid was, he was still an unknown. She glanced over her shoulder into the back
seat, checking for weapons or any sign she might have made a fatal mistake. As
she did, Craig’s hand reached across the truck, as if he were grabbing for her
neck. Abigail shrank back, her eyes widening with fear. As her lips began to
part in preparation to scream, his hand moved past her neck to grasp the
seatbelt beside her. He tugged it free of its hook and dragged it across her
body. Abby was so flustered she did not even protest or help him push it snugly
into its clasp with a snap. She was still staring at him in bewildered shock
when his hand settled back on the steering wheel, tightening again.

“You
could have just reminded me,” she ventured. Her voice echoed with confusion and
annoyance. Craig glanced over at her, as if he had not even paid attention to
what he had done.

“Oh,
sorry.” He managed a laugh and shook his head. “Force of habit. I still have to
buckle Chloe in. She forgets.”

Abby's
psychologically investigative mind was working overtime as she studied him. His
gaze was concentrated through the windshield, his eyes flickering back and
forth, constantly sweeping the road and checking his mirrors. His cheeks were
flushed and his jaw was clenched. Abby wondered if this was usual for when he
was when driving.
Or, is he nervous because I’m here?
When they rounded a bend which overlooked the ocean, Abby’s breath was taken
away.
Whoa!
How beautiful
. The sunlight sparkled on the surface
of the water, glistening like dancing diamonds, corralled to greet the afternoon
sky. It reached endlessly off into the distance, where water merged with the
turquoise horizon. Abby wasn’t easily moved by nature, but this particular
location was spectacular. The magic of the view was accented by a small garden
of vividly colored flowers which seemed to serve no purpose.

“Amazing,”
she uttered to herself. “Does the garden belong to someone?” she asked and
glanced over at Craig. He held his eyes to the road, but he had slowed down a
little. He refused to look toward the garden she mentioned.

“All
of us,” he said quietly, with a hint of sadness in his tone. “It was something
the community did for Chloe and I, to turn a tragic memory into something
beautiful.”

Abby's
heart began to pump harder as she realized what he was inferring without
actually saying. His wife died in a car accident. Abby could easily see how it
might happen. The bend veered sharply, and from the shine of the guardrail, she
could tell it was newly installed. The day was beautifully clear, but Abby
remembered how dense the fog was at dawn and dusk.

At
the time of Rachel's death, there probably hadn’t been anything there to shield
her from the edge of the cliff. Abby felt her throat tighten.
Such a
breathtaking view overshadowed by death
. She shook her head. A strange
thought entered her mind which she allowed herself to mull over:
I wonder
what Rachel was thinking as she went over the cliff?

Abby
disengaged from that thought and turned her attention to Craig. She was at a
loss on how to comfort him, so she did what she had done for many of her
patients. She reached out and grasped his hand with a gentle, soothing touch.
His hand released the steering wheel, relaxing beneath hers. His jaw rippled as
it, too, unwound little. His eyes narrowed some, as if he was attempting to
control his emotions. He sighed as he looked over at her.

“Chloe
loves to look at the flowers. She calls it her mother's garden. It’s remarkable
how children innately accept the cycle of life, while we adults flounder and
rage against it.” He grimaced around his words. Abby was startled by how
insightful he was, and by the wisdom in what he said. It was not that she
assumed him to be stupid, or less than educated, but she did not expect him to
share something he had obviously spent a lot of time thinking about so openly
with her.

“I
think it's wonderful how the whole community came together for you and your
daughter,” she said. Abby found it more than wonderful; it was downright
fascinating.

She
came from a busy city, where very few neighbors even knew each other’s name.
And she was no different than the rest. She could not put a name to a single
neighbor on the street where she lived. By now, they all knew her name. If not,
they knew where she lived well enough to target her house with eggs, spray
paint, doggie-doo bombs, or bags of garbage. She was disgusted by all the
detritus strewn over her front yard. Not that she deserved an outpouring of
support.
Scenes from her past echoed in her mind as she slumped down in her seat.

“That's
how it is, here,” he said casually. The further he drove from the garden, the
less intense his emotions became. “It's more than a community; it's like a
family.” Craig glanced over at her, a light grin tugging at the edges of his
lips. “Of course, everyone does tend to be a bit nosy.”

Abby
blushed as she remembered the final accusation she had lobbed at him when they
were at Lake Marie. She had been terrified he would dig too deep, discover too
much. She still was.

“Well,
you know what they say about outsiders?” Abby attempted a laugh. “Once an
outsider, always an outsider.”

“Not
here,” he corrected as he slowed the car at a red light. He glanced over at her
and only then did Abby realize she was still grasping his hand. She drew it
away, her fingertips dancing nervously across his skin. “Here, they say an
outsider is only an outsider until they're part of the family.”

Abby
folded her hands in her lap, looking at them as if they had done something to
offend her. “Well, that’s a warm notion, but I’ll only be here for a little
while.”

The
light changed and Craig began to drive again, nodding. “As you mentioned
.
You've yet to tell me why you're here in the
first place.”

“Just
a little time away,” Abby replied, managing to make her voice sound friendly
enough.

He
barely paused before inquiring, “Away from where?”

“From
where I was.” She cast a saucy smile in his direction. He could prod all he
wanted, but he was not going to get much out of her. Craig, enjoying a
challenge, was not deterred. He switched lanes cautiously, and then glanced
over at her with a glint in his dark green eyes.

“Away
from whom?” he boldly cast again.

The
question threw her off slightly, as she knew there was only one person she had
truly wanted to get away from, the only person she could never escape. She
thought about lying, about making up a story about a bad break up and a
boyfriend who was too persistent. She thought about flat out demanding he stop
asking so many questions. But when he turned the car into the grocery store
parking lot, his eyes swept briefly over hers with such warmth and openness,
she found herself answering honestly, if cryptically.