She turned and barged inside without knocking. Abe stood on the other side of the door, her cowboy hat dangling from his finger. ‘It’s sweet of you to leave this for me, but I have a hat of my own to throw into the ring tonight. Thanks.’
Could the man have a cockier, more amused look on his face? Fiona snatched up her hat and turned again, just in time for Digit to dart under her feet as he raced out the open door. Fiona’s arms wind-milled but she kept her balance. Barely.
As she walked up the dock, she heard a laugh. His? Or a seal out in the bay, its bark echoing off the rocks?
Fine. If he was laughing, that was just fine. If he wanted to debate her proposal tonight? She’d be the one laughing when he humiliated himself in front of the town.
Unless he wiped the floor with her and looked hot doing it.
Goddammit.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
You’ll know a knitter by the way she treats wool – casually, fondly, roughly, trustingly, lovingly. – E. C.
In city hall, with bodies packed all around her on creaky folding chairs, Fiona held her breath as she read the council’s printed agenda. There was her name, and Elbert Romo’s. But the page didn’t mention Abe. Maybe this morning had just been a bad dream.
But that would mean last night wasn’t real, either.
Fiona took out the roll of wire and her knitting needles. She was making something – she didn’t know quite what, but it would be some kind of jewelry. Probably. Either that or just a hot mess, which would go nicely with her mood.
‘You’re knitting metal?’ Daisy said incredulously. ‘Wait. You’re knitting, period. When did this happen and why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I was too busy telling you about last night.’
Daisy shook her head and took out her own knitting from the bag that hung on the handle of her chair. ‘I’m not sure what’s more important, actually. Men come and go, but knitting is forever.’
Fiona tried to push down her nerves and do a decrease at the same time. ‘Let me guess. Eliza Carpenter.’
‘Oh, no! Eliza believed in love more than anyone else. I said that,’ Daisy said with a grin. ‘I’m very wise, you know.’
‘Hey, speaking of men, how’s Zeke?’
At least Daisy had the grace to look abashed. She said, ‘He’s good. Cute. Fun.’
‘I spill my guts to you and that’s all I get?’
Daisy looked down at her knitting. ‘He’s pretty charming. For a football player.’
Fiona pictured Abe’s clear, blue eyes and stubborn jawline. He couldn’t really be called charming. And God how she loved that.
Damn it to hell.
‘So tell me,’ she said.
Daisy shrugged, and then leaned sideways in her wheelchair. She said out of the corner of her mouth, ‘We did it.’
‘W-ha-t?’
‘Dude,’ Daisy said agreeably.
‘And?’
‘I’m here to tell you he’s that wide everywhere.’
Fiona laughed. ‘Good for you. Where was Tabby?’
‘I had the sitter till ten. I made sure he pulled up to the house by nine-thirty.’
‘You did it in the van? In thirty minutes?’ Was that a blush Fiona saw on Daisy’s face?
‘If you see the van rockin’, don’t come a’knockin’. Right? Anyway, where’s Abe?’ said Daisy, craning her neck.
‘Who, dear?’ Toots Harrison made her way carefully into a free seat. She was wearing a cranberry-colored sweater that looked like it was made up of murdered Muppets, and she had two circular knitting needles draped around her neck. Either she’d forgotten they were there or she was modeling a new kind of dangerous necklace.
‘Abe Atwell.’
Toots nodded knowledgeably. ‘Oh, our handsome harbormaster. I saw him in the back parking lot.’
Daisy said, ‘Did he look nervous?’
‘Don’t ask,’ muttered Fiona.
Toots’s eyebrows flew up under her tightly curled bangs. ‘Abe Atwell? Nervous?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, why should he be?’ Toots waggled her fingers at a clutch of knitters sitting several rows behind them. ‘I’ll be back, lovies.’
‘See?’ said Daisy triumphantly. ‘Told you. He was messing with you. He won’t debate your proposal.’ Daisy sighed as she took lip gloss out of her purse. ‘It’s almost too bad. I would have liked to have watched those fireworks. Maybe Elbert will take off his clothes again.’
Mayor Finley, dressed in a yellow cardigan and slacks that looked like they’d been dipped in mustard, stepped to the microphone and tapped it briefly. ‘We’ll start in just a few moments, folks, but a quick addition to the agenda – Abe Atwell isn’t listed but he has a proposal, so we welcome his comments tonight.’
Chatter buzzed, and Fiona felt a tap on her shoulder. Toots Harrison leaned ponderously over a metal folding chair. ‘How did you know, dear?’
Fiona said, ‘Lucky guess.’
‘Well,’ Toots blinked widely, ‘I’m a happily married woman, you know that. But I don’t mind sharing that I won’t object to that man taking the stage for a while. Our harbormaster is quite a catch, I’d say. Get it?’ She winked at Fiona and went back to gossiping with the knitters.
‘You’ll kick his ass,’ said Daisy cheerfully.
Fiona stretched out her legs and slid down far enough in her seat that she could hook the back of her neck over the top of the chair. ‘I think I’m going to throw up.’
‘Ooof. Don’t do that.’ Daisy looked over her shoulder. ‘He’s here. With Zeke.’
Fiona prevented herself – barely – from turning her head. ‘How does he look?’
Daisy said, ‘While you look great, of course, he might win for cleans-up-the-best. Or maybe you can have a dance off. Oh! Can we do that?’
‘We’re not the Jets and the Sharks. This is not the West Side.’
‘Right. This is Cypress Hollow. So, the crocheters and the knitters?’
Fiona put her finger to her lips. ‘I don’t even really knit and I know you’ll get in trouble for that.’
‘Okay. Auto buyers, foreign versus domestic.’
‘As long as I can be domestic. Fair labor. Mostly.’
Daisy took another look. ‘He looks great.’
Fiona put the wire on her lap and balled her hands into fists as she tried to tamp down the nerves that sang along her spine. ‘You going to like his proposal better, too?’
‘Of course not. But you gotta admit, he looks good in a suit.’
Fiona spun around so quickly she almost launched herself out of the chair. Crap. Double crap.
Damn it, how did Abe clean up that well? Yesterday she’d seen him in jeans and a flannel shirt, his watch cap pulled low on his brow. Last night and this morning, she’d seen him in nothing but stubble. It turned out he looked even more dangerous wearing pinstripes.
‘Careful,’ Daisy cautioned in a lower voice. ‘Don’t let him see you with that look on your face.’
Fiona frowned to rid herself of it. ‘That obvious?’
‘More. You’ve always panted when he was in the room, but you’ve never looked like that. Your skin is glowing like that steel does when Stephen’s attaching something to a robot.’
‘Shit.’
‘Zeke doesn’t look bad, either, huh?’ Daisy’s look was clearly appraising. Zeke wasn’t as dressed up as Abe, but he was in a nice, light blue, button-down shirt and gray pants. ‘He looks like a strong barrel, doesn’t he? Like you could just push him over Niagara and he’d pop up at the bottom, no harm done.’ She stopped for a minute. ‘Not that barrels are necessarily my thing. Unless there’s wine in them.’
Fiona could feel Abe’s eyes on the back of her neck. Right at her nape. Where he’d pressed his lips last night. Where later on, he’d gathered her hair into a ponytail, tugging her head back, kissing her with desire. With flat-out need. Fiona pulled at the collar of her suit. It was too hot in here. She should have known bett
er than to wear this outfit. It didn’t breathe.
Neither did she, apparently.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
It’s easier to see through lace than cables, but cables are harder to rip accidentally when you climb over barbed wire fences. Ask me how I know. – E. C.
The council chambers were packed as full as a crab pot and twice as wriggly. Voices, high-pitched and excited, were making Abe’s skin itch. Clashing perfumes assailed his nose, making him sneeze violently three times in a row. Mrs. Luby scowled at him and muttered something about rampant influenza. Another woman he didn’t know stepped on his toe and didn’t even apologize. Rayna Viera waved at him from across the room, and he just nodded.
‘Fiona pretty pissed at you?’ Zeke said.
‘I reckon,’ said Abe. ‘I guess sleeping with a woman and then going against her in a city council meeting isn’t the best way to get another date.’ Stupid qualms. They were everywhere. He was tripping over them at this point, scuffing through them in his boots.
Zeke gave a low whistle. ‘You got cojones, for sure.’
He had something, all right. He was so rolled up in Fiona he could barely walk straight. But damn her, he’d really thought they’d made a complete, total connection. Body, soul, and mind. He’d thought she’d heard him when he talked about his father, about what the lighthouse meant. He had really thought she’d understood.
Elbert Romo stepped through the crowd and reached forward to shake Abe’s hand. ‘So. I hear you’ve worked up a proposal-thingie, too.’ Elbert, no cap over his gray buzz cut, was wearing the same dark, creased overalls he’d worn at the ball. His dress overalls, obviously.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, that’ll give ’em something to talk about.’
‘Sir?’
Elbert tucked his thumbs behind his straps. ‘Ain’t you and Fiona making time?’
Abe should have known Elbert would be at the center of the rumor mill.
‘If you don’t mind my saying so, I think it’s a little odd that you’re bringing that up.’
Elbert held his hands up as if Abe had stuck a gun in his ribs. ‘Whoa there, son! This ain’t the stage. Save your fighting words for bein’ up at the podium.’ He lowered his arms and rubbed his hands together. ‘Hoo. This is gonna be good. Where is that Fiona-girl? I hope she’s wearin’ something low-cut.’
Abe couldn’t help it – his shoulders went backward and he took an involuntary step forward. ‘Excuse me?’
Elbert bent at the waist in a howl of laughter. ‘Damn, this is gonna be fun. That was too easy. Keep your guard up!’ He threw two mock punches in the air. ‘This is war!’ Giggling, he scuttled sideways into the crowd.
‘Dammit,’ said Abe. ‘He got me.’
‘You sure you want to do this?’
‘Yes.’ No.
Zeke rocked back and forth on his heels. ‘But you like her.’
Abe wanted to snarl at Zeke. It was more than simple like. He …
Shit. He satisfied himself with saying, ‘Shut up.’
‘So, why are you doing this?’
Abe kept his lips firmly shut. He’d learned his lesson. He was going to take his time and not say anything tonight that he didn’t mean.
‘For your dad, right?’
Adjusting his tie, feeling something that twitched suspiciously like nerves, Abe said, ‘No.’
Zeke scrunched his eyes. ‘Your pop loved the lighthouse, et cetera, right?’
Abe shook his head. ‘It’s for her.’ He pointed through the crowd to where his mother was sitting, small and stoop-shouldered, hunching over her knitting, her face so pale it matched her gray hair.
She was alone, and it was his fault.
And that was why he wasn’t going to let his eyes stray back to Fiona, not even when they were up on the stage. He shouldn’t have asked her to meet him at the lighthouse. He definitely shouldn’t have invited her to his houseboat. To his bed. He had nothing to offer her. If they went on, if they went forward with what felt like the best thing that ever happened in his life, he’d only end up taking something away from her. Leaving her behind. Or she’d take a page from her mother’s book and run away, ditching him like Rayna had. Nothing ever stayed good.
There wasn’t anything left to do but fight for the one thing there was left that mattered.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Keep your knitting close in case of emergency. – E. C.
Mayor Finley stood tall at the microphone. The Pledge was done, and Fiona felt the crowd settling in for a show.
This was going to be bad, she could feel it. Why the hell had it been Abe who felt so compelled to fight her for this? Why couldn’t it have been Herbert Stork or Theo McCormick? Men she could argue against and not want to throw herself at. Fiona felt a trail of sadness at the thought, followed immediately by anger, tiny pinpricks of it at the tips of her fingers. Maybe this was where magic came from – from women being so angry that they held up their hands to shoot fire out of their fingers.
Fiona took a deep breath and then another one.
Daisy touched her forearm and said quietly, ‘Don’t hyperventilate. Think yoga.’
‘I hate yoga.’
The mayor invited Fiona, Elbert, and Abe up to the three chairs placed on the stage. Fiona hoped desperately that she’d be put on the end with Elbert Romo as a buffer in between herself and Abe, but instead Mayor Finley put her in the smack-damn middle, with Elbert to her right and Abe to her left. Abe was seated so close to her she could smell his cologne, some amazing combination of fresh-cut pine and old cedar.
It made her stomach flip.
Mayor Finley said, ‘One of the things we love about Cypress Hollow is the dedication we have to tradition, while still remaining open to change. The Coast Guard has turned the lighthouse over to our local government. After we’ve heard your proposals, our council members will retire to privately decide which route to follow. Keep the conversation friendly in tone, please. Fiona Lynde, ladies first, of course.’
The applause felt a bit too premature.
Fiona approached the podium and grasped the sides of it tightly. She leaned toward the microphone and smiled at the council members seated in the front row. ‘Hi there.’ Feedback squealed through the room, and people covered their ears. Betty and Alex’s new son burst into frantic squalls at the rear of the hall.
Marshall Gedding scrambled up the side steps and adjusted something in the monitor at Fiona’s feet. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered.
Having now moved beyond scared to downright terrified, Fiona said again, ‘Hi?’
It was still alarming, the way she could hear herself as her voice bounced off the back wall and into her ears, but she would just have to deal with it. She glanced down at her cards, shuffling them nervously.
Just start. She could do this.
‘You all know me as the girl with the gas station. Fee’s Fill. I wash cars. I do body repairs. I’m more often behind a blowtorch than I am behind a computer of any kind. The only paper I’m used to pushing is my Milky Way wrapper into the trash.’ This got a light chuckle, and Fiona felt her heart lift an inch or two.
‘I believe in this town. I’ve lived here most of my life, and honestly, that’s been by choice. None of my family is left here. It’s just me. And that’s okay, because Cypress Hollow is my family. I talk to almost every single one of you at least once a week. Except for Ted Sandyson and Maisie Dawson, both of whom converted to biodiesel and now run on the oil from Tillie’s fryers. Maisie, where are you?’
A curly-haired large woman in a bright green top waved at her.
‘I was behind you at the light the other day, and I have one complaint: the smell of fries coming out your tail pipe made me stop to get a chocolate double malt milkshake, so I’m not sure if I’m pleased or annoyed by your environmental choice. Oh, and you have a rust spot in your bumper, lower left side. So you should call me for an appointment.’
More polite laughter. There was someth
ing lacking in the sound, though. The crowd wasn’t with her yet. They didn’t approve of her, not the way she needed them to. Fiona felt the spaces between her fingers get wet again, and she shuffled the notecards. It took her a second to find her place, and the rustling noises in the room didn’t help – she heard a man honk his nose and the crying baby, who’d been taken outside, was carried back in, still snuffling. People shifted their feet, and she saw Lucy whispering behind her hand to Trixie. It was enough to throw Fiona off. She suddenly felt very small. And exposed.
‘The future,’ she said uncertainly, reading from her notes. She gave up on the cards and leaned on the podium. ‘We haven’t tried the future yet in Cypress Hollow. The only place with public WiFi is Tad’s Ice Cream, and that’s only because Tatum Abercrombie who lives upstairs has forgotten to put a password on his residential account. We’ve barely accepted that years now begin with the number two. Some would say we need the lighthouse to be a museum, but a museum would just mire the town deeper in the past. The lighthouse is unsafe,’ Fiona went on, gaining strength. ‘We all remember when Owen Bancroft’s mother made it to the top in that storm. We could have lost both her and Lucy that night.’ Lucy had stopped whispering and was nodding along now. Good. ‘Some say a complete earthquake retrofit would solve the problem, but we all know that one big shaker would topple it right over. We can make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone.’ She really did believe that. ‘If we tear it down and make it into a public park with full handicapped accessibility, we’d be giving the town a gift that would give back for decades to come.’
Fiona moved to the whiteboard, trailing the protesting microphone which gave another pained squeal. She ignored as best she could the feeling of Abe’s eyes on her back. ‘Here’s what I’ve worked out it would cost.’ She drew figures on the board, explaining as she went. She knew she was right about this. Fiona hadn’t just spent weeks doing this research – she’d spent years. Ever since she and her father had moved out of the lighthouse, carrying carefully packed boxes of her mother’s clothes, clothes her mother would never come back to pick up, Fiona had been researching how to make the lighthouse disappear. The time was right, and all of Cypress Hollow would benefit.
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