Tomorrow, she thought, opening the book to chapter one.
* * *
It was too quiet.
Nick set the coping saw on his makeshift workbench and listened. A woman dragging bags and boxes into the house should lead to some screen door banging, if nothing else.
He opened the door a crack and peeked out. For a few seconds, he thought the cottage was empty, but then he heard the faint creak of the couch springs. There were no boxes piled up or bags for him to trip over.
Lucy hadn’t brought anything in from her car that he could see.
He told himself it wasn’t his problem, but maybe she needed help and didn’t feel comfortable asking him. Or maybe she was second-guessing the wisdom of moving in with a total stranger. He couldn’t say he’d blame her, but he’d promised Helen he’d look after her, so if push came to shove, he was going to be the one to leave. He’d still do the work of course, because it wasn’t Helen’s fault some quarterback blew up her granddaughter’s life, but it would be seriously inconvenient.
Nick crept into the living room, not wanting to wake her if she’d decided to nap. Driving alone from Nevada to Maine was a lot, even when it was afunroad trip, so it would probably take her a few days to bounce back. But she lowered the book she was reading and blinked at him from her crocheted nest.
“Good book?” he asked instead of asking her why she was reading instead of dealing with the stuff in her car.
“It is.” She sat up, shoving off all but one blanket. “I decided not to unpack my car.”
“I know it’ll be a bit of a mess, having it stacked in here, but it’s more convenient than going outside every time you need something.”
“It’s not that.”
Something about the nervous way she picked at the fringe on the blanket made Nick want to sit next to her and hold that hand in his. “What’s going on?”
“I probably won’t be here long enough to make it worthwhile.”
Nick frowned, sitting in the very old and uncomfortable armchair that was the only place to sit other than on the couch with Lucy. “I thought you wanted to stay until Helen gets back.”
“I do.”
So itwasabout sharing the space with him, he thought. “If you’re not comfortable with me here, I can find someplace else to crash.”
She shook her head, finally looking at him. “No, that’s not it. And you’re helping Gran, so if one of us was staying somewhere else, it would be me.”
“You might want to check out some prices before you say that,” he said. “There’s a reason my brother and his kids are staying in my house and not a short-term rental.”
“You really just moved out of your home and let your brother move in?”
“He had a small fire, and his house was saved, but the water damage was a problem. He needed a place to go temporarily and the only rental available was a one-bedroom, third-floor apartment over the bank, and they wanted him to sign a one-year lease. Helen and I had talked about some work she needed done and I knew she was traveling, so I offered to do the work in exchange for staying here so Beck and the kids can stay at my place while the insurance company does its thing.”
“What are you going to do when Gran comes back?”
She probably wanted to know if he’d been intending to use the smaller bedroom, so he shrugged. “Hopefully, Beck’s going to get everything sorted and find a place, but if not, I’ll crash on the couch.”
“Or if your mother’s boyfriend isn’t a jerk,” she muttered. “And I wasn’t even couch surfing. The man hastwoguest bedrooms.”
Anger rose up in Nick, sharp and hot, and not entirely explainable. He barely knew this woman. But hedidknow that he couldn’t like a man who turned his back on a family member in crisis. And if the boyfriend was sharing a home with Lucy’s mother, she was basically family to him.
His opinion of Iris Macauley was even lower, but he swallowed it down and took a calming breath. “Okay, back to why you’re not bringing your stuff in because you don’t think you’ll be here very long, even though that’s the plan.”
She sighed, flopping back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “That girl recognized me in town, and even though you didn’t let her take a picture or anything, it’s going to get around and the whole world will find out I’m in Wayward Harbor.”
“And?”
Lucy stopped staring at the ceiling long enough to roll her eyes at him. “And people will start harassing me and also harassing everybody else to get to me, and I’ll have to go.”
“You think people are going to come all the way to Wayward Harbor to give you a hard time?”