“I wonder why he’s always watching me?” Vicki mumbled.
She reached for her doorknob and held up the key, her gaze on the young man tending the next cottage’s garden. He sat up straighter and flashed an awkward smile. Unnerved by the unwanted attention, she shoved the key into the lock and forced the door open with her shoulder. Bursting into her cottage, she slammed the door.
Her bag hit the floor. Vicki spread her mail across the kitchenette’s bar, scanning the letters in haste. One from her father? She ripped it open and a check spiraled to the floor. She retrieved it and peered at the total. More than enough to sustain her through the coming month.
“You might not have been there when I was a child,” she said, staring at his name on the check, “but at least you’ve the decency to suppo
