really,” Pearl countered. “Unfortunately that boy doesn’t have the brains of a muskrat when it comes to dealing with an attractive woman.” She made her way to the door. “Give him time and a little patience, and he’ll come around.” With a cheerful wave, Pearl left.
Abbey returned to work and got busy unloading another box of Ellen’s books. Knowing what she did now, the collection took on new meaning for her. Many of the books dated from the early to mid-fifties. Those were the childless years, when Ellen had yearned for a baby. Abbey suspected that Ellen O’Halloran had gained solace from these books, that they’d substituted for the friends she hadn’t been able to make in this town so far from England.
As she set a pile of Mary Roberts Rinehart mysteries on the desk, she heard the distinctive sound of Sawyer’s truck pulling up outside.
Her heart started to race, but she continued working.
He stormed inside and stood in the doorway, hands on his hips. His presence filled the room until Abbey felt hedged in by the sheer strength of it. “Have you decided to stay?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she answered smoothly. “I’m staying.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” she said with conviction. And she was sure. During her conversation with Pearl, she’d made up her mind.
“Fine. You’re moving.”
“Where?” Abbey had been told often enough that there wasn’t any other place available.
“You can stay in Christian’s house. He phoned this afternoon, and he’s decided to make a vacation out of this trip. I’ll let him decide what to do with you when he gets home.”
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