Chapter Seventeen

Bridget walked into her shop early on Monday morning in the hopes she could get a bead on how things had gone while she had been away. She entered through the front and stopped short. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we had a customer already. Can I help you with something?” She smiled at the girl with gorgeous brown skin and wondered what products she might be looking for. Were Gran or Sarah or Becca here?

The young girl returned her grin. “I’m Arianna. I work here, actually. You must be Bridget?” She walked over and held out her hand.

With a stunned blink, Bridget shook her hand and nodded. “That’s me. Ah…I’m not following what’s happening. What do you mean, you work here? At this store? Three Sisters Apothecary?”

She nodded, long braids floating around her face and shoulders. “Sarah hired me on Saturday. I’m here part-time while I take classes at the community college.”

What? Her sister had hired this girl? Without talking to her? A knot tied in her stomach. How had Sarah done that? She should’ve been at the festival, yet somehow she was hiring people without Bridget’s consent or even knowledge. “I think—”

“Bridget, there you are!” Sarah popped out from the back room with a wide smile. “Did you meet Arianna? She’s only been here for a couple of days, but she’s such a quick learner.”

“Um, Sarah, we need to talk for a minute. In the back.” Bridget walked through without a backward glance.

“Arianna, would you mind checking the shelves to see if anything needs restocking? We’ll be right back.” Sarah said as the shuffling of her footsteps sounded behind Bridget.

Bridget spun around as soon as the door swung shut. “What do you think you’re doing? You hired someone while I was gone? For two and a half days! On whose authority did you do this?”

“Mine,” Gran said as she came down the stairs from her apartment. “I told her the idea was good and she should do it. This girl had stopped in looking for work.”

“Gran, I make the decisions like that.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“But nothing. Who ran the festival booth while Sarah was here hiring someone? Has anyone checked the online orders and shipped those out? What about products? Is there a list of things I need to make? Now on top of all of that, I need to worry about finding the income to pay an employee? How much did you offer her an hour? Did any of you consider this before throwing all of my hard work away?”

Gran’s Look should have sent Bridget running. “I ran this store for over fifty years, I know a thing or two about it.”

Bridget slapped her hand down on the wide table. “I own the shop now. It’s not up to you! This is my obligation. I should never have let you talk me into leaving town.”

Both Sarah and Gran jumped at her shout. Gran shook her head. “That’s the problem, Bridgie. You think of this as an obligation. Not an opportunity. There’s no more joy in how you work here. You used to love coming in here and creating new products. Now all I see is stress and anxiety in you.” She stepped forward and pulled Bridget into a hug. “Honey, you can’t do everything all the time. Asking for help or hiring someone is not a sin. It’s not weakness. It’s growth and chance and freedom. Live your life and love this store. You can do both.”

“I can, but on my terms. I do love this store—that’s why I sacrifice everything else for it. I will not be the Wildes female who fails this legacy.” She stepped back and crossed her arms. “You can’t take over just because you think you know better.”

“She didn’t,” Sarah interjected. “I hired Arianna. Gran encouraged me, but the decision lies with me. And I stand by it. You need help, Bridge. I’ve looked over the books. You can afford a part-time employee and it will help make life easier for you.”

Bridget wanted to pull her hair in frustration. “It’s like you two aren’t listening to me. Stop making decisions for me. I own this store. Not you.”

“Fine,” Sarah snapped. “If you want to throw everything else in your life away and make yourself miserable working until you die, go ahead.”

“Girls, stop it. I will not have you two fighting because of this shop. We are family first and foremost.”

Bridget closed her eyes and yoga-breathed. Gran was right. Bickering with Sarah accomplished nothing. She needed to get things back in order with the store. Once she had an idea of how things had gone over the weekend, she’d feel better. Much as she hated to admit it, Sarah was correct that they did finally have the cashflow to hire a part-time employee. They could even go full-time if they wanted, but Bridget was hesitant. At least Sarah hadn’t done that. “Okay. I’m sorry I lost my temper. I will give her a few weeks’ probationary period to see how she does and if this will work out long term.”

Gran smiled, but Bridget held up her hand. “For the record, neither of you has the authority to ever make another decision like this in my stead again.” She leveled a stare at her grandmother. “You entrusted this shop to me and I’m the owner.” She turned to Sarah. “You might be my big sister, but you don’t even work here anymore. You’re temporary and I don’t know how long you’re staying. I took over, not you. Both of you overstepped and I’m not happy about it.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Sarah twisted her lips to one side. “I should’ve called you and asked or something.”

Gran lifted her brows. “While I do know how to run this store, I’ll try to do better in remembering you’re the boss.”

The trio came back out to a very apprehensive-looking Arianna. Bridget gave her a genuine smile. “I’m sorry I was taken by surprise that you were hired while I was away for the weekend. Let’s start fresh. I’m Bridget, the owner of Three Sisters. I understand you’ll be working for me part-time?”

Arianna nodded, the morning sunlight illuminating her skin.

“Wonderful. I’ll start you on a trial basis and we can chat today about your schedule to get your regular hours set so you have time for your classes. Sound good?”

“Yes, thank you!” She bounced on her toes. “I love this store and I’m so excited to get the chance to work here. I promise not to let you down.”

Bridget spent the next two hours showing Arianna the checkout software and her stocking system. Then she caught up on how much had sold at the festival booth Becca had run, as well as the online sales. When all was said and done, she had a list of products she needed to make for restocking and a mental idea of where the shop stood monetarily. She had plopped down on a stool behind the counter to rest for the first time that morning when the door chimed. Bridget looked up to see Jack walking in. “Hey…” Her greeting died in her throat. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

She jumped up and ran over to him. His cheek was a vivid red and swollen. His right eye was already a mottled purple and inflamed to a mere slit.

He flashed a sheepish curl of his lips. “You should see the other guy. Guys, actually.” He flexed his hands and winced.

“Jack! Were you in a fight?” She reached out but stopped herself in case she hurt him. “I don’t understand.”

“A couple of dudes at work—”

“At work?” She yelped. “You were beaten up at work?”

“I got into a fight. At the job site. They were saying…not complimentary things. About you.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Me?” Her voice was small. “I… What?”

“They made derogatory remarks about you. Being a, you know, a witch.” He clenched his jaw and tension hardened the muscles in his shoulders and arms. “I wasn’t going to tolerate what they said about you. I lost my temper and hit one and then the other. It ended up in a group fight.”

This time she did touch him. She cradled his hands in hers. He’d defended her honor and gotten hurt for her? “Jack.” She let out a gasping little laugh. “That is the stupidest, most ridiculous thing ever.” She laughed harder. “And also weirdly romantic, but it shouldn’t be. It’s boorish and peak toxic masculinity, but dammit if there isn’t some feminine part of me swooning inside, too.” She kissed his uninjured cheek. “Thank you for defending me, you sweet, misguided idiot. You better not have gotten fired.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. “I know and I didn’t. I got…suspended?” He snorted a guffaw. “It’s like being in school again. I’m out for a week, then hopefully Paul takes pity on me and lets me come back. And you’re right. I was dumb and barbaric. My inner caveman came out.”

She leaned back and shook her head with a half-smile. “Let’s see what I have to help patch you up, my well-meaning-but-still-a-doofus boyfriend.”

 

* * * *

He couldn’t help but notice that Bridget had seemed more on edge since they’d gone on their weekend getaway. After patching him up, she sent him home with a few of her salves and lotions and told him to take some ibuprofen and a nap. The next few days when he’d seen her, she was obsessively making and packaging products for the store like she’d sold out of everything and hadn’t restocked in months.

He’d done his best to help her however he was able, but she was a little moody and distant and no matter what, he couldn’t seem to overcome that gap between them. Worry gnawed at him on all sides now. He thought he might have an answer for the logging side of things. As for the girlfriend part, he was still trying to figure out how to woo her back to where they’d been pre-Portland. He needed her to relax and trust him again.

That Friday, Gran was given a clean bill of health and Sarah decided she was heading back to Seattle. He managed to convince Sarah into letting him into Bridget’s house on Saturday before she left town, so he could surprise Bridget with dinner when she came home from the event she was working that day. He knew she’d be exhausted and hoped this would brighten her evening. After throwing together all the ingredients for a chicken and rice slow cooker recipe his sister had given him, he decided to up his game by vacuuming all the rooms and cleaning her two bathrooms. Then he chilled out on the couch with Candle and sent some emails about the idea he had for Timber Logging Company. Eventually, the key in the lock sounded and he jumped up to greet her.

Bridget opened the door and stopped short. She blinked twice. “Hey, Jack. What, ah, what’re you doing here?”

She tilted her head in an adorable manner and Jack’s grin widened. “I talked Sarah into letting me in so I could make you dinner as a surprise. I know how tired you get after these fall festival events and I thought…”

Her eyes sparkled and she scrunched up her face. Oh. Shit. He’d made her cry? How? What? This was not the reaction he’d been hoping for.

She flung herself against his chest and burst into tears, sobbing into his sweater. “Th-th-this is s-s-so n-nice.”

He wrapped her in his arms and rocked their bodies from side to side. “I’m here for you, honeybee,” he whispered as he ducked his face into her hair. Her small frame shook as she cried and leaned into him. He coaxed her down to the couch. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m bawling and snotting all over you.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m here for you, and I don’t mind if you cry.”

“It’s that I’ve been so stressed and Sarah went home and I’m tired and here you are. With dinner.” She glanced around. “Did you clean my house, too?”

He shrugged. “I vacuumed. And cleaned your bathrooms. And dusted. Candle kept a close eye on me to make sure I did an adequate job.”

She snort-laughed. “I can’t believe you did all of this. For me.” She looked up at him with damp lashes and tears streaked across her cheeks. “Thank you, Jack. You’re a great boyfriend.”

He thought his heart might stop beating right then and there. She was so gorgeous, even when crying, and so sweet, and he didn’t deserve her. He couldn’t even find a way to tell her about the possible hostile takeover of the logging company that could be the death knell for this entire town. Pushing away his guilt, he cupped her face and kissed her. “I’m trying. Why don’t you go shower and get into comfy clothes while I get dinner ready for us? I’ll get a fire going, too.”

She twined her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “You are the best, Jack Thompson.” Pressing her lips to his cheek, she rose and headed into her room.

He tossed a few logs in the fireplace and once he had that going, listened to hear if the water was still running. Not hearing it, he went ahead and dished up what looked like delicious, creamy goodness into two bowls and held one out as she padded into the kitchen. Somehow, she made baggy sweats and fuzzy purple slippers look sexy. His blood flow shifted south and he grabbed up his own dinner so he wouldn’t pounce on her. “Should we eat?”

With a nod, she led him into the living room, forgoing the kitchen table and curling up on the couch. She patted the space next to her and flipped on the baking competition show they’d been making their way through together. After an episode, they’d both finished their meal and he cleared the dishes. When he returned, he wrapped an arm around and said, “Want to tell me what has you so stressed this week? Or would you rather veg out and not talk about it?”

“My sister hired someone at the store.”

“I remember you mentioning that. Are they not working out?”

“Arianna’s fine, but I’m worried about keeping the profits from the store high enough to keep her employed. Which seems fine right now, but this is our busy season. Who knows what will happen after the fall? And then the online store has exploded—again, no idea if it will last, and I feel like I can’t keep my head above water with how much stock I’m having to make these days. It’s never-ending. Plus there are rumors all over town about the logging company getting sold. I don’t know what I’m going to do if that happens. If this new owner changes how it’s run or outsources the jobs to others…” She sucked in a deep breath. “Fallbank won’t survive. It’ll maybe take a handful of years, but without logging driving the economy here, the rest of us are on borrowed time.”

Bridget tilted her head up to look at him. “Coming home to find you here with dinner and having cleaned my house? It overwhelmed me, but in a really good way. You’re so thoughtful and sweet and I can’t believe you’re here with me. I’ve never had this kind of relationship before.”

Jack’s stomach rolled and for a moment he thought he might be sick. He was the source, or at least the main source, of all of her stress and she still thought he hung the moon. God, he was an asshole. He opened his mouth to speak, but she kissed him. Then kissed him again before tugging at his clothes. He couldn’t stop himself. He selfishly allowed her to seduce him into making love to her right there on the couch.

 

* * * *

 

Monday came around and Jack hauled his butt into the office to meet with Paul like a teenage delinquent at the principal’s office. Of course, he’d gotten into a fistfight so, if the shoe fit…

“You ready to come back to work and act like a grown man?”

“Yes, sir. I am sorry for acting like, well like an idiot. I shouldn’t have let Charlie and Jacob get to me that way. They weren’t speaking very kindly of my girlfriend, but that’s not an excuse to resort to violence.” Jack winced as he heard himself. He was lucky assault charges hadn’t been filed against him.

“Mmhmm. You’re on probation. One toe out of line and I’ll fire you on the spot. We clear?” Paul crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good. Now tell me what updates you have on Thompson Industries buying me out.”

Jack filled him in on how things stood with the contracts but kept it as brief as possible. He was still waiting to hear back from a couple of his contacts to see if he could make changes to this offer or not. Bridget’s worry weighed heavy on him. He lived in a constant state of nausea and dreaded anyone in town finding out who was about to upend Fallbank’s foundation.

“All right. Keep me posted and go get to work. Don’t let me hear even one word about you messing up.”

“You got it.” Jack stood, headed to his truck then out to the job site. After receiving his work orders from Cornelius, Jack joined the crew on the side of the mountain.

With quiet efficiency, Jack yanked on his gloves and took his place in hefting the massive logs into a position to allow the yarder to scoop them up. He worked with focus to keep out all distractions around him. Unfortunately, that meant he blocked out the warning shout that could have saved him. The last thing he heard was the echoing crack of splintering wood.