“Bless you,” Tucker said.
Her nose started to run. She sniffed.
“Tissue?”
The cat curled around her leg. “I’m fine.”
Her eyes started itching. She rubbed casually. She had to get that thing out of there.
“Turn up anything new?”
Sabrina nudged the cat with her foot.
“A few things.” She handed him her list, hoping he’d take it and leave, cat and all.
Instead he sat in the chair beside her.
Great.
“The city, huh?”
She sniffed again. A sneeze was coming. She could feel it. She breathed through her mouth, hoping to squelch it. “She mentioned going to the city,” she said between silent gulps of air.
“She didn’t say which one.”
“True.” Under the guise of shifting her legs, Sabrina knocked Nickels away from her feet.
“Do you know how many cities there are? And who says she even lives near it? I don’t remember her mentioning it other than the one time.”
She tried to blink away the itch in her eyes. Were they turning bloodshot? She needed to blow her nose.
She was surprised she was reacting so severely to a cat that had been in the house less than twenty-four hours. She turned away from Tucker to discreetly wipe her nose and saw something she hadn’t noticed before.
A cat bed. Just then Nickels slinked toward the round sheepskin-covered bed.
Oh, great. This is Nickels’s bedroom.
That explained why she was having such a—
“Uh-CHOOOO!”
The sneeze sneaked up on her. She glanced at Tucker.
His brows hiked upward. “Bless you.”
She had to get out of there. It would only get worse. “Goodness. I must be coming down with something.”
Like allergies. Or insanity.
“Can I get you anything? Tylenol? Orange juice?”
Beside the desk, Nickels curled into a ball and closed his eyes.
Another sneeze was building at the back of her nose. Her throat felt scratchy, and any minute her eyelids were going to swell.
Tucker was going to figure it out if she didn’t get out of there. Quickly. “No, I—I think I need to go home and rest.” She stood, grabbing her bag.
“Oh.” His voice rang with disappointment. “Are you sure?”
She felt terrible, but what could she do? “I’ll be fine by Monday.”
Presuming that infernal hairball is gone.
The pressure at the back of her nose was building.
Get out of here, Sabrina.
“Hope you feel better.” Tucker stood as she walked toward the office door.
The sneeze was coming.
Breathe through your mouth.
She’d reached the hallway when she heard his voice again.
“Don’t forget your check.”
She returned and snapped the paper from his hand as the sneeze ripped through her, louder than the last one. She couldn’t cover her mouth in time. “Sorry.” She turned and rushed toward the door.
“Take care of yourself,” Tucker called, but by then, she was out the door.
Tucker watched Sabrina pedal away on her bike until she rounded the corner and headed toward Main Street. He slapped the wooden door frame with his palm.
Way to go, McCabe.
Not only had he succeeded in causing Sabrina pain and misery, but his plan to force her out of hiding had totally backfired. He’d accomplished nothing except chasing her away. He shook his head.
Brilliant.
He turned into the house and shut the door. He’d been so close. It had been on the tip of his tongue after the second sneeze.
Maybe you’re allergic to cats.
It would’ve been so easy, such a reasonable remark. It might’ve been the nudge she needed to admit who she was. Maybe that one sentence would’ve helped. If only he’d been able to say it. He nearly
had
.
But then he’d seen the look on her face. The fear scrolled between her eyebrows, glazing her eyes. She had the look of a trapped animal, and he couldn’t do it. Words she’d written months ago surfaced in his mind, words about people inflicting harm on others without thought to the ramifications. Maybe using the cat against her was a small thing when weighed against the actions of Jared and her cousin, but the fact that he was capable of this small infraction against her shook him, shamed him.
Nickels entered the living room and stared at him, eyes half-closed, and Tucker could have sworn they were full of reproach.
“What are you looking at?”
The cat lifted his pointy chin and exited as quietly as he’d appeared.
Tucker made his way toward the office. He had a bed to move and a room to vacuum.
Harbormaster: Growing up, I thought my sister and I would always be together. After all, we’d been in the womb together, shared everything all our lives. We grew up and went our separate ways, though we remain close. And one day I know I’ll be married and my wife will be everything to me—even closer than a twin sister.
The next week Tucker was relieved that he’d successfully removed the cat dander. Sabrina didn’t sneeze once all week.
That was the good news. The bad news was his plan wasn’t progressing as quickly as he’d like, and he was running out of time. Sabrina was working through the emails all too fast. Maybe if they did something together. Something that didn’t involve computers and lists. Something that would force her from her comfort zone and put them face-to-face.
But he’d already taken her out on his boat, and what had come of that? Nothing.
It was time to raise the stakes. He wandered into his office and sat where Sabrina had been an hour earlier. He picked up the tablet with her notes. She was careful, including only innocuous details that were so broad as to be useless, or things he’d already listed.
Can’t whistle
Takes a daily walk
Likes her steak well-done
Reads mysteries
Has an aversion to bees
He smiled at that one. Sabrina had been stung on the eyelid when she was five and had been terrified of bees since.
Imagine a chicken flapping her wings and running in circles, and you have an accurate picture of me in the presence of a bee. Not rational, I know, but I can’t seem to help it. I once spilled a glass of fruit punch all over my cousin’s favorite pashmina scarf in my hysteria.
He opened the email program and checked his inbox. It was empty. She wasn’t writing as often as she had before she’d started working for him. But then, she had less time. He missed her. How could he miss someone who sat right next to him? Because the Sabrina he loved was honest and vulnerable, but the Sabrina who worked for him wasn’t sharing that part of herself yet. He missed that intimacy.
He opened a blank email and started a letter. Right now he didn’t want to trick her or corner her, he didn’t want to manipulate her. He just wanted to talk with her.
I miss you, Sweetpea. Work’s been hectic, but you must be busy too.
I took in a friend’s cat last week. Yeah, I know, I’m a glutton for punishment. The thing did not like me. I have several scratches to prove it.
Read any good books lately? I got another novel at the library, but couldn’t make it past page twenty. You can’t say I didn’t try. I’ll leave the fiction to you and stick with the newspaper.
Tucker paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wanted to say so much more.
I miss you. Even when you’re here, I miss you.
Why won’t you open yourself to the possibility of us? Every time you’re
near me, I want to touch you. But if I did that, I’d scare you away. You’re
like a doe in a field, so beautiful and proud and strong. But at the slightest
hint of danger, off you go. What are you so afraid of?
Tucker scowled at his thoughts. He couldn’t say any of that. He’d nearly scared her off for good when he’d mentioned meeting in the first place, and he wasn’t going to risk losing his only contact with her after she finished this job. Or rather, failed at finishing this job. He knew that was the plan, and it frustrated him, but that’s what he deserved for backing her into a corner.
Did I do the wrong thing, God?
It was too late for that question, wasn’t it? But it was never too late to ask for help. He whispered a quick prayer, then sent the email.
He wondered if she was home. Maybe she’d get his message and reply. It had been a while since their last exchange.
The house was quiet except for the hum of the dishwasher. He’d offered Sabrina a slice of the roast he’d slow-cooked that day, but she’d turned it down as always. He wondered if he could convince Sabrina to stay for dinner after she finished. He could cook while she worked, maybe grill a couple steaks on the deck, serve her the corn he knew she wouldn’t eat, couldn’t eat, ever since she’d gotten sick on it in the seventh grade.
He fantasized about sharing a candlelit meal on the water with a salted breeze ruffling her hair. Sure, she wore it scraped back in that ponytail, but it was his fantasy; he could imagine her hair down if he wanted.
If only they could have a normal date. The kind where he picked her up and took her someplace quiet, where she could let down her guard and let him in a little. But he couldn’t ask Sabrina out. She knew he was in love with Sweetpea, and he wasn’t supposed to know she and Sabrina were one and the same. How would it look to her if he put the moves on her?
Well, you’ve got yourself a quandary, don’t you?
The computer chimed as a message appeared in his inbox. Sabrina.
I can’t believe you took in a cat. That’s above and beyond.
I haven’t had time to read lately, but am hoping to get back into a good book soon. I still think you need to keep trying until you find what you like. There’s a genre for everyone. I haven’t given up on you. ....
I got a wedding invitation from Jared and my cousin.
That was the end of her message. His thoughts spun like a whirlpool. How had the news affected her? Was she still pining for Jared? She hadn’t seemed upset at the café or at his house.
He replied, hoping she hadn’t left.
I’m sorry. When?
Less than a minute later, her response arrived.
About a month ago. :/
A month ago? He’d wanted to know when the wedding was, but she must mean it had been a month since she’d received the invitation. And she was just now telling him? It must’ve hurt if she hadn’t told him sooner. And if it hurt, maybe she still loved Jared. Tucker was hurt now too. Hurt that she still had feelings for Jared and that she hadn’t confided in him sooner. He poised his hands over the keyboard and typed.
When’s the wedding? I really am sorry. ..
At least she was telling him now. What did she need from him? He wished he could do more than type a few words of encouragement. He wanted to hunt Jared down and beat him to a pulp, but that’s probably not what she needed from him. He wished that he could at least wrap his arms around her and tell her he loved her, that Jared didn’t deserve her anyway.
Another email arrived.
Twenty-second of August.
He typed a response,
Are you doing okay? Want to talk about it?
A few moments later another message arrived.
No, thanks. I’m coping. Just wanted to tell you.
’Cause I could beat him up, if you want, he replied, then sat back, waiting for her response. It arrived seconds later.
Tucker grinned. He wondered if her family had given her any warning. But she didn’t want to talk about it, so he refrained from asking. Instead, he asked the obvious question.
Are you going?
He pushed Send.
Before he could lean back, she replied,
Going where? :-P
He smiled.
To the wedding, goofball.
No.
When the sinking sensation hit his gut, he realized he’d been hoping she’d go. To avoid the wedding meant she was still angry with her cousin. And if she was angry with her cousin, she still had feelings for Jared, didn’t she?
Coward. Just ask.
Before he could stop himself, he typed the words.