Chapter One
Abagail
The headlights were coming at her once more, the rays of light blinding her from seeing what was to come, keeping her mind from capturing the details of the event that was now her present nightmare. Turning her head to see her parents in the front seat, the next thing she felt was glass penetrating her flesh, ripping at her face and unleashing a myriad of sensations, including a surge of heat and then excruciating pain.
A sudden jolt of turbulence woke Abby, forcing her to tuck her nightmare away once more into the recesses of her mind. Stretching her legs to make sure she could still feel them, she grabbed at the blanket wrapped around her and pushed it tighter around her legs, hiding the obvious eyesore. First class had many perks, including the extra leg room she wanted and now needed. Pulling her hair band out of her long blond hair, she used her fingers as a comb and refashioned the high ponytail falling out from sleeping in the seat. Never would she have dreamed of stepping off a plane looking so ordinary, but now no one was watching her anymore.
“Excuse me, ma’am? I can take your trash for you if you’d like. We are starting our descent and need you to put up your tray table soon.”
Abby blinked at the flight attendant, numbly handing her the untouched glass of diet soda. She put up her tray and looked down at her hands. Too afraid to allow herself to analyze the fact she had no idea what was waiting for her once they landed, she swallowed down the claws of anxiousness, which was slowly crawling up her throat, making her feel like she was slowly suffocating.
The plane landed without incident and Abby waited for the rest of the passengers to empty the first-class cabin. The flight attendant stood near her, wishing the economy passengers a good day while exiting, all of them too impatient to even notice her still sitting there wrapped in her afghan.
Finally, a steward came with the wheelchair and quickly moved to help her.
Putting her hand up to stop him, she insisted on doing it herself. She wasn’t crippled anymore. She just couldn’t go long distances on her own.
Pushing herself up off the seat, she felt a jolt of pain in her legs from being in one position for so long. She smiled, in spite herself, because the pain was better than no feeling at all. For the first four months of recovery, she had no feeling in her right leg. Now she just didn’t have full mobility, yet. She grimaced thinking about the physical therapy sessions she left behind, horrible, and pointless, the best adjectives she could use to describe those appointments. Her doctors were livid, but Abby had made up her mind. She was done hoping things would be what they once were. She needed to bury her hopes and dreams alongside her parents. They would never come to fruition now.
Finally adjusted, she pulled her blanket around her brace that went from her foot to above her knee, trying to avoid pitiful looks from strangers, who had no idea how much their open stares wounded her. Abby Monroe was not used to pity. She was used to the spotlight and praise. But this twist of fate, this train wreck in her life, would not allow her to be the star she was meant to become.
The steward wheeled her out to the ticket counter where a golf cart and driver were waiting to take her to baggage claims. She reached down and pulled her right leg off the footrest, putting all her weight on her left leg to stand. She was tall, the tallest girl in her school, at 6’6’’, and even though the custom-made brace adjusted to her unusual height, she found her long legs awkward and hard to maneuver.
The small Maine airport was practically empty. A bleak reminder there would be no one here to meet her. No photographers or reporters before a high-profile event, forcing Abby to reconcile once more that fact that she had become a nobody. She felt her heart twist with anger thinking about all the people who disappeared from her life, never to be seen again, once they learned she was practically an invalid.
Before she could hardly blink, the cart swung around to the baggage claim area and Abby gently moved her left leg, with the brace, to the step and hobbled down. Assuring the driver, she was fine and wouldn’t need more assistance, she turned and nearly tripped on a bag someone had set right in front of the carousel. Stopping herself from crying in irritation, she walked as best she could to grab her bag that was already moving around the conveyor belt. Most of her stuff was coming next week via UPS, but this small bag held everything she would need until then.
Turning around to find the car rental booth, she let her eyes roam over the Bangor International airport, an act that only took a matter of seconds. She still had a long drive to reach her cabin in Bar Harbor, but that was fine with her. She planned to use the drive to acclimate to her new home state and take in the scenery before reaching her destination.
Abby saw the car rental booth, which was hard to miss because it was right in front of her. This airport had to be one of the smallest she had been in yet, and she’d traveled through hundreds. Just as she moved to get in line, her eye caught a young man standing with a sign. Her brain barely registered that the sign he held had her name elegantly written across the front. She studied her name a few seconds, feeling shocked anyone would be waiting for her. She looked at the sign’s holder more closely. He was very tall, probably several inches or so taller than herself, with curly copper hair that had golden flecks woven throughout, especially in the strands that hung in his face. Abby thought of her own stick, straight hair and wondered how he kept his curly mop manageable. Shaking her head, she continued to take in his height while also noticing his broad shoulders, which told her he was no stranger to working out. His body nearly bulged out of the zip up cardigan he was wearing. She caught her breath when she reached his eyes, a deep, rich hazel color that made her feel like he could see right through her. She felt her legs wobble unsteadily as her nerves told her that there was something familiar about this stranger. The feeling seemed mutual because he was staring right at her, waiting for her to show some sign of recognition, as if he already knew she was Abby Monroe. She swallowed and raised her eyebrows, to which he simply nodded and smiled.
Who would be waiting here for her? Only her Aunt Maggie knew she was coming. Well, Aunt Maggie and the mysterious benefactor who laid her new cabin home in her lap. Was this him?
Curious, she slung her backpack over her shoulder, slowly bent down to pick up her bag, and limped over to him. Oddly, the man made no move to help her and his expression held no sign of pity. She looked away and felt herself blush as a rush of gratitude swept over her. She was so sick of being unable to fend for herself.
“Abby Monroe?” he asked without hesitation.
“Yes?” She stopped and readjusted her backpack.
“I’m Elijah Woodrow. I have come to take you to your cottage in Bar Harbor.” He finally reached down and grabbed her bag, holding out his other hand for her pack.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone. How did you know I would be here?” She wasn’t about to get into a car with a stranger. Her coach’s voice popped into her head, his constant warnings about being weary of people and their motives. It was a voice she had not heard in months, odd that it would be screaming at her now.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot.” She watched as Elijah reached into his jean pocket and fetched out some papers. Now that she was closer, she felt herself trying not to stare. The guy looked like he walked right out of the Hamptons.
He cleared his throat and she couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to her cheeks as she realized he had caught her staring at him. Completely embarrassed, she looked down at her feet, and grimaced at the sight of her exposed brace and foot boot. Swallowing her pride, she took the papers he handed out to her and listened as he explained what they entailed.
“Your Aunt Maggie called me ahead of time and asked that I pick you up. She emailed me the details of your flight, and here I am.”
Abby looked at the email address and seeing that it matched her aunt’s, she folded the paper and handed it back to him.
Just then Abby’s phone buzzed. Reaching in her pocket, she glanced at her notification to see a text from Aunt Maggie. It was as if she’d been listening in on their conversation. Figures. Only Aunt Maggie would have the intuition to know to text at exactly the right moment.
Elijah Woodrow is picking you up at the airport. OK to trust. A. Mags
Abby sighed, resigned to the fact that there was no escaping or politely excusing this man away.
“And how do you know my Aunt Maggie?”
“Let’s just say I am an old family friend.” Elijah held open the door for her and waited as she slowly made her way to the walkway where cars were picking up and dropping off passengers.
A gust of brisk, early spring air swept over them and Abby suddenly wished she’d have had the sense to wear jeans and a sweater, not the light cotton dress with sandals she put on this morning when it was sunny and 75 degrees. Maine definitely wasn’t LA.
Elijah raised an eyebrow at her and smiled, “You might want to rethink your wardrobe. It’s still early enough in spring to warrant another big snowstorm.”
Abby swallowed. “Snow?” she asked meekly, “In March?”
“Sometimes in April too.” Elijah winked and motioned her to follow him towards the parking garage.
Nearly out of breath and her leg throbbing, she felt a sense of relief when they walked up to a Rolls-Royce. Sleek and comfortable, she remembered the feel of how this car sang when she had visited with the track and field Olympic coaches. She once had hopes of competing in the next summer games, but that was obviously no longer an option. Tucking the memory away, she forced herself out of the past and into the present, with a future looming that she had no idea how she would fit into. Hopefully, Maine offered more answers than questions because she was already full of them.
Abby settled into the front passenger seat and nervously pulled her blanket over her legs while Elijah put her bags into the trunk. What was she going to do with a stranger for the next several hours? Did he expect her to talk the entire time? She realized it had been a long time since she was expected to be cordial. After the accident, when she realized no one was coming around for her career anymore and her social life sucked, she had never felt more alone. She had agreed to this crazy idea of moving to Bar Harbor, Maine in hopes of finding a new beginning, one that didn’t remind her of dreams lost.
