Paper Hearts (29 page)

She pulled away and looked at him, an expression he couldn’t place in her eyes.

“Uh-oh,” he said, taking a step back. “You look upset.”

She slid off the counter. “I-I don’t know.”

He closed his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “I’m so sorry, Abigail. I thought . . .” What? He thought what? That he’d kiss her and their relationship would magically change? He wouldn’t be the man ruining her life?

She stood unmoving, as if trying to process her conflicting feelings.

“I should go.”

“Jacob
 
—” She moved in front of the door, blocking his path. Frustrated or humiliated or full of regret, he didn’t know, but the mix of emotions tumbled around inside him like pinballs.

Her eyes filled with concern for him. “Don’t go like this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have, Abigail.” He was careful not to look away
 
—not now, when it mattered most. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

He kissed her forehead one more time, then slid around her and out the door, trying to pretend he didn’t notice the tears on her cheeks as he did.

J
ACOB DROVE HOME,
replaying every moment of his time with Abigail. He’d memorized the way her soft skin felt under his fingers. He could easily recall the way her lips had moved against his. He could still smell her warm vanilla scent, but he knew everything about this fantasy was wrong.

What if he’d mistaken his feelings for her? Had he taken advantage of her?

How could he have been so careless?

And yet, how could he not? The only thing he wanted was the chance to kiss her again. He wasn’t lying when he wrote those words on the paper heart. She did make him want to live again, in a way that he hadn’t since months before Gwen died. But admitting that, remembering that, made him feel like a jerk. What kind of man tires of taking care of the woman he loves?

Jacob pulled into the driveway, mad at himself for buying that stupid building in the first place. He could’ve been up and running if he’d just settled on the space in the new mall on Dover
Parkway. And he wouldn’t be distracted by this Abigail Pressman business.

Before he turned his lights off, he caught movement up by the old shed.

The dog. Back again.

For over a week now, he’d been putting out fresh food and water for the injured animal, but Jacob had a feeling it needed more than nourishment if it had any hope of healing.

If he could get close enough, he might be able to help.

And yet, why should he care? This wasn’t his dog. It wasn’t his problem the same way Abigail’s not having a space for her store wasn’t his problem.

Trouble was, he did care. No matter how hard he tried not to, he did
 
—about the dog
and
about the girl. It was how he was raised. It was how he was trained.

He got out of the truck and shut the door, leaving the lights on so he could see where the animal had gone. As he walked up the hill toward the old shed, he saw it burrowing near the back corner of the outbuilding, whimpering softly.

“It’s worse, isn’t it?” Jacob squatted just a few yards from where the dog had lain down. “Get over here and let me see if I can help you.”

The dog inched a little closer, then quickly moved away. Stupid thing had no idea what to do.

Jacob moved in. When the dog stayed put, he dared another small step in its direction. “Can I help you? I’ve been feeding you
 
—that’s got to count for something, doesn’t it?” He kept his tone low even though he knew the animal had no idea what he was saying.

When he came within arm’s length, the dog recoiled a bit but didn’t run away. Jacob moved slowly until he could finally reach it. He stroked its head, shushing it and telling it he was there to help.

After several minutes of coaxing, he figured out a way to slip his
arms underneath the dog and carry it toward the house. He went up the back steps, laying the animal on the rug in the middle of the screened-in porch. As he did, Kate opened the door.

“What happened?”

Jacob took off his jacket and turned on the light. “Can you bring another lamp out here and get me some towels?”

Kate jumped into action, bringing him what he asked for. He pressed the towels onto the dog’s leg wound but not so hard as to cause pain.

“I’m going to need some scissors to cut her fur back. Can you grab my kit? It’s in the front closet.”

Kate did as she was asked, returning seconds later with the kit.

“I don’t have what I need to clean this wound.” He bent over the dog, trying to get a good look at what must’ve been a bite or scratch from another animal. “Did the coyotes get you?”

The dog lay still, maybe too still, as he cleaned and irrigated the wound with warm water and a bulb syringe. Kate served as his nurse while he did what he could for the animal.

“I think she might need stitches,” he said. Then, to the dog, “If you’d let me help you a week ago, you might not be so bad. I’m going to wait till morning when I can get a better look.”

The dog whined.

“No collar. No tags,” Kate said. “But she doesn’t seem wild. She’s a retriever.”

“Probably lost.” He rubbed her head. “We’ll take care of you.” He glanced at Kate. “You actually seem to know a little bit about what you’re doing with this injury.”

She shrugged. “Dogs aren’t that different from horses, I guess.”

He supposed training horses was about more than getting thrown off over and over again. He hadn’t thought about that before.

“Do you miss it?” Jacob tended to the animal’s wound, aware of Kate’s watchful eyes.

“Sometimes,” she finally said.

The dog whined, and Kate rested her hand on its head, whispering quietly in calming tones. Once its back leg was sufficiently cleaned, Jacob worked on bandaging it, thankful the animal wasn’t putting up too much of a fight.

“Why don’t we make her a bed out here for tonight?” Jacob said, standing. “I’ll check on her every few hours.” He glanced at Kate, who was staring at him, a lopsided smile on her face. “What?”

“Welcome back, Dr. Willoughby.” She pushed the door open and disappeared inside, leaving him alone with his patient.

He did care. Even about this stupid mutt. It’s what had always made him a good doctor, and yet somehow he’d shut that part of himself off. He’d lost himself in the barrage of guilt and self-hate. Even after he’d helped Avery that night, he’d told himself not to care. He couldn’t get attached to healing anymore
 
—and yet . . .

Forgive.

That word again. An instruction he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around. Jacob rubbed his temples, willing away the dull ache that had settled there. How could he forgive himself for letting Gwen die? How had he ever pretended to be someone who could heal when he’d stood there and watched his own wife slip away?

“Jacob?”

He spun around, expecting Kate, but found Abigail instead.

“Your sister let me in.”

Oh, man, how long had she been there? He’d been on the verge of a meltdown over a dog.

“Are you okay? Kate told me about the dog.” She knelt down and petted the wounded animal. “She seems to be doing okay.”

“She’ll be fine, I think.” He crossed his arms. Why was she here?

Thank God she’s here.

She stood. “After you left, I tried to stop thinking about what happened, but I couldn’t.”

He hesitated. “Me neither.”

“Mostly, I don’t want you to feel bad about it. The truth is
 
—” she looked away
 
—“I wanted you to kiss me.”

“I thought so, but . . .” He faced her. She wore workout pants and tennis shoes with a pullover hoodie and her hair in a mess on top of her head. And he’d never seen her look more beautiful.

She smiled. “I really liked kissing you.”

He returned her smile. “You did.”

“Very much.” She drew in a deep breath. “I was thinking about that paper heart
 
—the one I brought home.”

His stomach dropped.
I’m such a fraud.
She’d figured the whole thing out. Now she’d find out the truth about Gwen. His failures would be plastered all over town.

“What about it?” He reminded himself to stay calm.

“What it said
 
—‘You make me want to live again.’”

He remembered.

She stared at something in the distance, then back at him. “That’s exactly how I feel about you.”

He didn’t
 
—or couldn’t
 
—respond.

“I know I should be really mad at you
 
—and I still am
 
—but there’s this part of me that just wants to thank you.”

“To thank me?” Was this a joke?

She took a few steps away from him. “I mean, I’m sad about the store, of course, but I realized something, Jacob. I hide behind The Book Nook. I always have. That’s not living, is it? Being scared of everything. Refusing to get close to anyone because you know you’re going to get hurt?”

“I know a little something about that,” he said quietly.

“If you hadn’t come in and shaken everything up, I’d be doing the same thing I’ve always done. Coasting along, telling myself that one day I’d finally find the courage to do more. You forced
me to ask myself the one question I’ve been avoiding: What do I really want?”

He stilled. “So what
do
you really want?”

She smiled. “I’m still working that out. But for the first time, I feel like maybe it’s all going to be okay. Even if there’s no more Book Nook.”

“Maybe there’s buried treasure inside you somewhere after all.”

“I hope so.”

“Does this mean I get to kiss you again?” He took a step toward her. “Because I really liked kissing you too.”

She hid her smile with her hand, but he didn’t miss her nod. He pulled her into his arms and brought his lips to hers, drawing her closer and wishing he could freeze this perfect moment forever.

G
OING TO
J
ACOB’S HOUSE
had been impulsive, especially since it had gotten late and she had no idea if he’d even be awake. Now, over an hour later, she had to leave him, and she didn’t want to.

And a part of her hated herself for that. How susceptible was she that she’d gone weak-kneed at the doctor’s kiss?

They stood at the front door, and it seemed like he didn’t want to say good-bye any more than she did. Wrapped in his arms, she thought over everything she knew about falling in love, and she wondered if maybe none of those things really mattered after all.

“Jacob, can I ask you one thing?”

He kissed her forehead. She loved the way his lips felt on her skin. “Anything.”

“Does this have anything to do with the building?”

He frowned and took a step back. “What do you mean?”

“You probably can’t afford the bad press. I wondered if you were being nice to me so I’d stop fighting for my store.” Ursula’s
words had done more than scratch the surface unfortunately
 
—they’d burrowed their way in good and tight.

“Abigail, no. Of course not,” he said, eyes intent on hers. “I would never do that to you. To be honest, this
 
—you and me
 
—is kind of a surprise. I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this again.”

She smiled. “Feel like what?”

He looked away, a shyness coming over him. “Like this.” He put his arms around her and held her there for a long moment.

“Good enough,” she said. “I’m glad we called this truce.”

He laughed. “Just don’t go calling a truce with anyone else, okay?”

It struck her then how very much she liked him. More than she ever expected. More than she wanted to.

“I should go.”

“Do you have to?”

“If I want to get up on time, yes. Some of us work, you know
 
—at least for a few more months.”

He reached out and touched her cheek. “I hope you get everything you want, Abigail.”

She touched his hand. “I kind of hope so too.”

One more kiss and then he opened the door for her. When she walked outside, she inhaled the night air, thankful for the surprise of Dr. Jacob Willoughby.

She started toward the steps when movement off to the side caught her eye. Her heart jumped and she spun around in time to see Kate sitting on one of the porch chairs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “I wanted to give you guys some privacy.”

Abigail looked away, certain her cheeks had turned hot pink. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re good for him, you know,” Kate said. “I haven’t seen him happy in a really long time.”

Abigail wanted to know why. She wanted to understand this
man who’d stolen her heart, but somehow, she wanted him to be the one to explain things to her.

She really needed to get home, but standing out here with Kate, she couldn’t ignore the possibility that this was the open door she’d been praying for. “Mind if I sit for a minute?”

Kate hugged her afghan around her. “Of course not.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a long time about something, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I thought about telling Jacob, but that didn’t feel right either.”

Kate frowned. “What is it? Are you okay?”

Abigail fished her gloves out of her pocket, wishing the open door she’d received had been in a heated room. “I am. It’s actually you I’m concerned about.”

“Me?”

Abigail sighed. “I don’t even know how to say this.”

Kate sat up. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“I know. That night at the hospital, they did a bunch of X-rays on you.”

Kate nodded.

“They found . . .” Abigail looked away. “They found evidence of broken bones and severe bruising.” She met Kate’s eyes.

“They mentioned something about that.” Kate looked away.

“Kate, if you were abused, you might need
 
—”

“That’s what you think?” Kate ran a hand through her hair.

“That’s what the nurse thought.”

Kate shook her head. “Who is this nurse? I’m pretty sure she broke all kinds of laws telling you about my X-rays.”

“Please, Kate. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. I was just concerned. I wanted you to know if you need to talk, you can come to me. I won’t say a word.”

“Right. You’re not going to run to my brother and tell him all of this.”

“I’m not. I won’t.” Abigail never should have said anything.
She should’ve minded her own business. She hated it when she misinterpreted people’s signs. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to say anything. I just really like you, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Kate pulled her knees up and hugged them. “I’m fine.”

After several awkward seconds of silence, Abigail finally stood. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

When Kate didn’t respond, Abigail started to leave.

“Wait.” Kate didn’t move. Instead, she stared out across the blackness of the yard as if remembering something painful.

“Kate, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I mean, it’s not like we know each other all that well or anything.” Abigail felt caught between the escape of her car and Kate’s lingering sadness.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Kate said, her voice quiet. “And I really don’t want Jacob to know.”

Abigail moved toward Kate and sat in the chair next to her. “I won’t say anything, but don’t feel like you have to tell me. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.”

Kate sat unmoving, still hugging her knees. “You don’t understand.”

Abigail was sure that was true. She’d never been in an abusive relationship before. Besides Jeremy, she’d never been in any serious relationship before. She was the last person in the world Kate should be talking to about this.

“And Jacob would kill me if he found out.”

“I doubt that’s true. He seems like a pretty understanding guy,” Abigail said as if she had authority to speak on the subject of Kate’s brother.

“He is, about most things. But not with this. I mean, you saw him at the hospital.” She looked away. “He hates it when he can’t fix everything. He just doesn’t understand that some things weren’t meant to be fixed.”

Abigail drew in a breath of cool night air. “Maybe he’ll surprise you?”

She shook her head. “You have no idea what he’s been through.”

Abigail’s gaze fell to her hands in her lap. “You’re right.”

“I can’t burden him with my problems when he’s finally getting his life back together.” Kate reached out through the blanket and swiped what Abigail assumed was a tear. She wished Kate would elaborate. What exactly had Jacob been through? Had his divorce completely destroyed him? She wouldn’t presume to understand the feelings one had to sort through in that situation. Maybe it was that devastating.

“So who was he?” Abigail felt unequipped for this conversation.

Kate stilled. “Titus.”

“Did you love him?”

Kate wiped her cheeks again. “Very much.”

Abigail sat back in her chair. “Is he still in the picture?”

“Sadly, no. They made sure of that.”

Abigail frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not what you think. Titus is a horse. I used to ride. Years ago. I had a few pretty scary injuries, and after the last one, Jacob made me promise to quit.” Kate dried another tear. “I’ve always been something of an adrenaline junkie. Jacob hates it. But when I discovered horses . . .” She pulled her knees closer to her chest. “I don’t know. It was about so much more than adrenaline.”

“I had no idea.”

“I was in the hospital with a broken collarbone and Jacob was dealing with a lot. I didn’t mean to lie to him when he told me to promise I was done. It caught me off guard. After my bones healed, I realized I couldn’t just walk away.”

“So you ride horses.” Abigail started to piece it together. Kate wasn’t in an abusive relationship
 
—she was in a dangerous sport. Her mind spun back to the hospital, to Jacob’s reaction to the car
accident. For whatever reason, something made Kate keep this from him.

“I guess a part of me always knew he wasn’t mine. I didn’t own him, but they put him in my care. I loved that horse. I spent two years with him, and while they said I nursed him back to health, the truth was, he gave me a reason to get up in the morning. Taking care of that horse made me feel like I had a purpose.”

Abigail remained quiet through a long pause.

“Stupid, right?” Kate let out a nervous laugh.

“Oh, not at all,” Abigail said. She knew a little something about letting her work define her.

Kate continued. “He got hurt. He injured his hoof in a race and the owners decided I wasn’t a good fit for him anymore.”

Abigail didn’t even have a cat, so people’s attachment to animals always baffled her a little. Still, she could see Kate’s pain was very real. Losing Titus had been like losing a family member.

“They honestly thought he could still race. I told them it was a terrible idea
 
—he wasn’t ready
 
—and they told me to pack my bags. Those men only cared about getting everything they could out of him. It didn’t matter if it destroyed him.”

“Kate, I’m so sorry.”

“The worst part is, I know he won’t perform the way they want him to, and when he stops winning, they won’t put him in a stable somewhere. They’ll put him down.”

Kate’s pain encompassed them both, tugging on Abigail’s emotions.

“The broken bones, the bruises
 
—those were from Titus. Working with him was never easy.” Kate put on a halfhearted smile. “They say nothing worthwhile ever is.”

Abigail watched as sadness washed over her, and she realized she really knew nothing about this family at all. “So that’s why you’re here.”

“I had nowhere else to go.” She nodded, then buried her head
in her knees. “Without Titus
 
—without training . . . well, I’m just not sure who I am anymore.”

A sentiment Abigail understood more than she cared to let on. And while a part of her had started to accept she would soon be starting over
 
—finding a new dream to chase
 
—another part of her would die the day her store officially turned into half of Jacob’s medical practice.

“I can’t explain it,” Kate said. “Titus and I were a team. I was supposed to go wherever he went. I sold out to that dream, but I failed. How do you ever accept that your dream is just dead?”

Abigail looked away, visions of her store fluttering through her mind. She thought she’d made her peace
 
—how else could she ever have a relationship with Jacob?
 
—but now, listening to Kate, she wondered if she’d just been caught up in her emotions. Did she really want to give up if she still had a chance to fight for it? Maybe a part of her was falling for Jacob in the hopes that he wouldn’t make her leave.

But then nothing would change. She’d be stuck in the same holding pattern she’d been in before, waiting for something to open up, waiting for phase two of her big dream.

“Maybe there’s another horse? Maybe you can begin again?” Abigail didn’t know anything about riding. Or horses. Or even about love.

“It would hurt too much,” Kate said. “Losing Titus was heartbreaking.”

Loss she understood.

“I keep asking myself, is it better to hide myself away, bury my head in something totally different, just so I don’t get hurt again?” Kate shrugged.

“I suppose you could be missing out on another great horse, one that you could train. You could find the perfect fit and it would make all of this pain a distant memory.”

“Kind of like love, huh?”

Abigail paused. “I suppose it is.”

“It’s really pathetic that in my scenario, we’re talking about a horse.”

“I’m sorry, Kate. I’m so sorry you lost your friend.”

Kate let out a staggered breath. “Thanks for that.” She stared out into the darkness again. “Jacob is going to be furious with me. He’ll never understand why I would continue to put myself in danger. He’s too blinded by his own situation to get it.”