Page 28 of Hearts Aweigh

A MAN-MADE WATERFALL CASCADED into the crystal clear children’s pool as families cavorted in the spray. Mounted speakers played a blend of popular hits, and sunlight glinted off the cheery orange and turquoise tiles surrounding the swimming area.

Emily relaxed on a recliner beside Gerry, who hadn’t emerged from her book since they arrived. Daisy and Althea sat on the edge of the pool, splashing their legs at a giggling Maddie, who floated on her back while Abby propped her hands beneath her. A perfect picture—except for one detail.

Emily glowered Spencer’s direction. He sat at a table in his starchy khaki pants and crisp white shirt, typing away on his phone. How could the man ignore his family? It was unconscionable.

The desire to meddle surged inside her, but she decided to ask for advice first.

“Lord.” She didn’t bother praying quietly. Gerry knew her penchant for petitioning their heavenly Father. “What’s wrong with that man? He has a beautiful baby girl and a mother who hasn’t seen him in a year and a half. Should I say something?”

“Would it do any good?” Gerry snarked.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I know. But I’m throwing my two cents in anyway. I doubt anything you say would make an impression on that stuffed shirt.”

“Mr. Masterson!” Abby hollered from the pool. “Come here. Maddie’s floating by herself.”

Spencer immediately put the phone away and walked to join them.

“Did you see that?” Emily nudged Gerry.

Her friend poked her nose over the top of her book. “See what?”

“One call from our Abby-girl, and Spencer stopped working to attend the floating lesson. What does that tell you?”

“Tells me he’s not completely heartless. He must care about his daughter.”

Emily resumed her conversation with heaven. “I don’t know, Lord. Am I the only one who’s seeing this? Or am I completely delusional?”

“Yes,” said Gerry. “And yes.”

“Can I go on the slide?” Maddie asked.

“Absolutely, sweetie.” Abby helped her climb from the shallow pool. “Excuse me.” Spencer turned. “I need to send another text to my office.”

Abby rolled her eyes and walked hand in hand with Maddie to the twisty orange slide.

The little girl climbed the short ladder but hesitated.

Abby called, “Don’t be afraid. You can do it. I’ll go wait at the bottom for you.”

As she spun to head there, her bare foot caught on a waist-high stack of folded lounge recliners piled by the pool’s edge. Her body twisted left. Her ankle twisted right. Pain. She stumbled and landed on the tiles with a thud.

Quick steps rushed to her side. “What happened?” Spencer knelt beside her.

She motioned to the chairs. “I tripped.”

Her boss examined the pile. “Are you hurt?”

“I wrenched my ankle. It—”

“You should be more careful.” He reached out to touch her leg.

Abby clamped her lips. “You’re right.” She moved away before his fingers made contact and stood with effort. “I’ll be fine.”

He rose to his full height. “Are you sure?”

“Never mind me. Go play with Maddie.”

“I have something to do first.” He stalked away without another word.

“Probably looking for a phone charger,” Abby muttered to herself, and shook her head. “Would it kill you to spend five minutes with your own daughter?”

She took a step and flinched. Sharp jolts shot through her ankle. But at least it didn’t feel broken. It was possible to move.

Painful but possible.

“Oh well.” Abby leaned her weight on her heel. “Might as well walk it off.” Maybe if she put her sneakers on, it would help.

“Abby!” Maddie stood at the top of the slide and waved. “Look at me!”

“You did it all by yourself!” Abby masked her pain as she hobbled over. “I’m right here, sweetie.”

Spencer passed his business card to the manager. The man’s desk took up most of the space in the narrow office near the main pool. His sweaty forehead gleamed as he bent to read it.

“As you can see”—Spencer pointed a finger at the card—“I’m well-versed in legal matters. You have a situation to deal with before any more injuries occur.”

“Any more?” The manager shrank.

“One of your own employees hurt her ankle on a careless stack of chairs near the kiddie pool. My daughter and many other children are playing nearby. I’d hate for anyone else to suffer the same accident.

I suggest you tell maintenance to remove them before you find yourself on the nasty end of a lawsuit. ”

“Oh—oh, yes, sir. Yes, sir!” Sweat beads dripped down his glistening face. “I’ll send someone right away.”

Spencer headed for the exit. He stopped at the door.

The spot where he’d left Abby and Madeleine was empty.

Where were they? He inspected the area and spied a glossy mane of red hair by a flower-themed splash pad.

Madeleine ran among the jets of water, a sunhat hanging from a string around her neck.

Abby stood with hands outstretched. Favoring her right leg, she hobbled after his squealing daughter.

The manager zipped to his side. “I’ve contacted maintenance, sir. They’re on their way to examine the problematic area as we speak.”

“Thank you.” Spencer stomped out into the sunshine.

The man scrambled along behind. “I’ll personally apologize to the injured party.”

Spencer wound through the jet streams of the giant splash pad.

The blasting cannons doused his khaki trouser legs.

He reached Abby, grasped her upper arm, and pointed at her ankle.

“Why aren’t you resting?” A shot of water hit him in the chest, and he brushed the moisture away with an impatient hand.

Abby tilted her face to him. Her normal exuberant smile appeared a tad forced. “It doesn’t hurt as bad with my sneakers on. I’m okay.”

Madeleine ran over with a wary expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Abby smiled. “Everything is good, Maddie.”

The manager dashed to their group and began a lengthy apology. Spencer waved him away like a pesky housefly. He steered Abby to a nearby bench and urged her to a sitting position. Kneeling on the deck in front of her, he unlaced her shoe. She winced as he gingerly slipped it off her foot.

His jaw clenched at the colorful bruise forming around her ankle. This was his fault. If he hadn’t been caught up in his work, he might have been able to prevent the accident.

The manager flitted in the background. “Oh my—”

“Ugh.” Abby wrinkled her nose. “That isn’t pretty.”

“What happened?” Daisy said, hurrying over, her friends not far behind.

Spencer waved Abby’s shoe. “Ms. O’Brien twisted her ankle.”

The four women fluttered around them, offering commiserations and advice on how to best treat a sprain.

Madeleine wandered closer and rubbed Abby’s heel. “Does it hurt?”

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Abby said. “I’m fine.”

Emily smacked Spencer’s upper arm. “What are you waiting for? You should carry her to the infirmary.”

“I should what?” He stood upright.

Abby waved both hands. “Totally unnecessary. I can walk.” She pushed herself to her feet and winced.

“See there?” Emily pointed. “You don’t want her to injure herself further, do you?”

“But I …” Spencer blinked.

“Really, Spencer,” said Daisy.

Althea clicked her tongue. “Show them how a Southern gentleman behaves.”

Squeals and splashes and the airy gusts of the water cannons told him the other passengers were busy enjoying the pool.

So why did it feel like the whole world was watching him?

The Shippers definitely were. They stared him down with eyebrows raised in expectation.

He sighed and bent, then placed an arm at Abby’s back.

Gerry took out a small notebook. “Now we’re talking. Maybe I can use this in my novel.”

“No, no, no.” Abby pushed him away. “I’m fine.”

Spencer straightened and glared at the hovering manager. “I assume this ship has a wheelchair somewhere.”

“Oh yes,” the manager said. “I’m very, very sorry. Let me get you the wheelchair.” He scrambled in his pockets. “Where did I put my phone? Let me run to my office—oh, wait. Here it is!” He discovered the cell in his back pocket and went off to place a call.

Gerry shook her head and put her notebook away. “Don’t think I’ll be getting any material for my book.”

“Yep.” Althea propped her hands on her hips. “No heroes here.”

“I apologize, Abigail,” Daisy said. “It’s my fault for not raising him better.”

“It’s coming!” The manager waved his phone over his head. “The wheelchair should be here in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? You’ve got to be kid—” Spencer passed the shoe to Abby. “Forget it.” He put one hand around her back and the other under her knees.

She hugged her sneaker tight. “What are you doing? I can walk.”

He rose in a swift motion. Her petite body settled against his. She weighed hardly more than a child.

“That’s more like it,” said Emily. “Well done, Spencer.”

Althea applauded. “It’s about stinkin’ time.”

“Whoa.” Abby threw an arm around his neck and peered at the ground. “I’m going to get airsick up here.”

Spencer nodded at his daughter. “Come along, Madeleine.”

Abby pressed his chest. “The bags. We left them by the bench.”

Spencer ignored the tingling sensation where her fingers rested and addressed the manager. “Get them for us.”

“Yes, sir!”

The man skittered away, and Spencer strode off, the Shippers and Madeleine at his heels.

Abby squirmed in his arms. “It looks worse than it feels. You don’t have to carry me.”

“Madeleine, are you coming?” Spencer made sure his daughter was at his side and kept walking.

“Maddie.” Abby craned her neck over his shoulder. “Put your hat on. Your nose is getting sunburned.”

The visor dangled from the string around her neck.

Madeleine scurried beside Spencer as she pulled it onto her head.

He shortened his strides so she could keep up.

Even with an injury, Abigail O’Brien was thinking of his daughter first. The motherly concern in her eyes was as foreign to him as the snowcapped peaks of the Himalayas. And just as beautiful.