Chapter Twenty-Two

Jack had one last task before he left town on Friday. He stood outside his father’s office and steeled his nerves. This could end up ugly. Really ugly. There was no avoiding it, though. If he wanted to move on with his life and be happy, this had to be done. One sharp knock was all the warning he allowed before pushing open the door to his father’s office.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Jack, I thought you were meeting with…” He stopped as he looked up at Jack. “What are you doing? What are you wearing?”

Jack looked down at his boots, jeans and Henley T-shirt, then absentmindedly scratched at his fresh beard that was filling back in and itched like the devil. He needed Bridget’s cream in a bad way. He needed Bridget, full stop. “I’m leaving. I’ve gotten all the pieces moving to divest from the family company, but I’m…done.”

His father rose from behind his desk. “What do you mean, done?”

“I’m branching out on my own. I have money from my own ventures and investments. I bought the logging company and I’m going to co-run it locally. Keep the same employees. Live in Fallbank full-time.”

“You are not going to do this.” His dad’s face turned red and mottled. “I will not have my son abandon the family business to go live in the woods. I’ve worked too hard for you to throw this all away.”

“You didn’t even start this company. Grandpa did. Yes, you took the foundation and made an empire, but that doesn’t mean it’s what I want in life. I want to be happy. Have a family that I see and enjoy spending time with. I want to work hard, but not every minute of every day. That’s not a life. That’s working until you die. Maybe you love this enough to make that your reality, but I don’t.”

His father slammed a fist down on the dark wood of his desk. “You can’t do this. I groomed you for this role.”

“I know, and I’ve learned so much from you, Dad. But this life? This working every day, at all hours? Never having a real vacation? That’s not what I want. I don’t love this the way you do. Besides, the world is moving on from this family-owned and handed-down business model. Things don’t work this way anymore. Find a new protégé or two or ten for all I care. Someone who is as hungry for this as you are. I’m sorry, Dad. But I’d rather just be your son and not your business partner.” He watched as his words sank into his father’s head. His dad’s entire body seemed to deflate in on itself as he sank back into his chair. Jack’s gut twisted, but he held firm. He had to choose his own path in life and he finally knew what it was.

This was what his grandfather had nurtured in him for his whole life…to find where his passion lay. He’d loved working with his hands on the sites Grandpa had taken him to, but something had been missing. He’d found it in Fallbank. Community. A sense of belonging. Love. He needed to love Bridget and if it took him the rest of his life, he would prove that to her. One day, maybe, he could win her back. And he’d start this weekend at the festival.

 

* * * *

 

Four hours later, under the cover of night, he pulled his truck into Cornelius’ driveway. He cast one longing glance at Bridget’s house, but went inside where his new partner greeted him with a grin.

“Wow, look at that ugly mug. You definitely need to grow your beard back to hide that mess. Can’t have you scaring the local kids. Halloween is only one day a year, you know.”

Jack guffawed loud and full. “I’m working on it. This is the worst part of it. Itches like mad. I need to get more cream from Three Sisters. I’m all out.”

“I’ve got some in my bathroom. I’ll take pity on a poor soul and help a brother out.” He left and jogged back out from the hall a minute later. When he held out the jar, Jack snatched it like a toddler stealing a cookie. Within seconds he was smoothing the lotion over his skin and sighing with relief. And fighting against the stinging at the corners of his eyes as the scent he associated with Bridget wafted over him. Lavender and sage. It wasn’t as good as burying his nose in the soft spot of her neck and getting the scent straight from her skin, but it would ease the festering ache in his soul.

“You signed me up for the timber sport competition, right?”

Cornelius chuckled and shook his head. “I did. You sure you know what you’re getting into? This isn’t a joke, my dude.”

“You put me in the rookie category, didn’t you?”

“I did, but—”

“Then I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think you get how serious even the rookies are. This is an actual sport. They have world championships that are televised on ESPN. These kids, and I do mean kids, aren’t messing around. They’ve been practicing for years and just waiting to get old enough for the real competitions.”

“Well, I might make a complete ass out of myself, but it’s for a good cause.” He needed the town to accept him back into the fold. He needed to show he wasn’t a flash-in-the-pan logger who was going to up and leave again. If he couldn’t get the general goodwill of the town back, there was no way he’d get Bridget to forgive him.

“Have you even looked at what the events are? Practiced at all?”

“I Googled it.”

Cornelius scrubbed his hands over his face. “You are going to die tomorrow. Figuratively and maybe literally. There is a competition where you stand on a log and chop it in half between your legs. Losing a leg is a real likelihood. I can’t believe I’m going to lose my business partner before we even get started. Do we have insurance yet?”

Jack laughed then stopped. “You actually chop wood between your legs?”

“I don’t because I don’t have a death wish. You are because you’re a fool in love.”

He stared at Cornelius with wide eyes. “Do you think Bridget will mind dating the guy who came in last for the rookie category?”

A bark of laughter escaped his friend and he joined in. It was either laugh or freak out over the humiliation he was sure to suffer tomorrow.

 

* * * *

Saturday morning arrived with clear skies and cool temperatures. Perfect fall weather for Halloween and the festival. Normally, Bridget loved this day. She loved the crowds drawn to Fallbank for the fall fest and seeing all of the booths’ wares offered each year. She got to catch up with vendors she didn’t see regularly and meet newcomers to the circuit. And the timber sport competition. Every previous year she’d grinned and cheered and celebrated each event.

This year should have been even better with Halloween falling on the same day. Kids and adults would be in costumes and a new level of excitement would sprinkle the air. Yet the hollow sensation in her chest wouldn’t go away. She reached for her normal happiness and enthusiasm to find them missing. She sighed and rolled over to where Candle was curled up next to her.

She purred as Bridget rubbed over her ears. “I miss him. Do you miss him, Candle?”

One eye peeked open at Bridget. A tiny chirp escaped the cat’s throat. Candle stood and padded closer, rubbing against her chin and flopping down along her side. Then she gave Bridget a very feline ‘you are a dumb human’ look before tapping her paw over Bridget’s hand.

“That’s what I thought.” She resumed petting her cat and contemplated what to do next. Sure, she was still mad Jack had lied. And that he’d called out the fact that most of Fallbank hated her. Yet that had given her the kick she’d needed to embrace her reputation and change how residents looked at her.

Yeah, it was going to suck when the logging jobs evaporated in town. She wasn’t sure where she would go when times turned lean and she needed to close up shop. If she were smart about all of this, she’d let Arianna go and buckle down on expenses to try to keep Three Sisters vital for as long as possible. Instead, she had given her new employee more hours and was trying to balance work and a regular life. Getting a glimpse of what life could be outside her store had made her want more. She’d gone out to dinner and had enjoyed hanging out with Serena this week.

She and Gran could move elsewhere if they had to. Start over in a town more established with a more diverse economy. It would be a challenge to relaunch the store and compete with others in the area, but she now had enough faith in herself and the legacy of what the Wildes women created that they could be successful somewhere else. Seattle rents would be significantly higher, but living closer to Sarah would be nice. That she might catch a glimpse of Jack was tempting, too. Heartbreaking, but tempting.

“Give yourself time. He just ripped your heart out a little over a week ago.” Her self-pep talk didn’t motivate her. She still felt empty and sad. Lonely. She hadn’t realized how desolate her life had been until Jack had walked into her shop. Bridget considered herself independent, yet somehow that had morphed into reclusive. Jack had changed that. Made her feel special and seen. Now that she was back to blending into the walls and simply going about her day-to-day life, it rang hollow. She wanted more. It wasn’t that she needed to be the center of attention for the entire town, but having someone care about her day was refreshing. Feeling treasured and worthwhile, that her opinions mattered, had given her a sense of self-worth she hadn’t realized was missing.

Forcing herself out of bed, Bridget walked to the bathroom in spite of Candle’s meowed protests. After a quick shower, she dressed in her outfit—a mid-calf black tulle skirt, purple and black striped tights and a shimmery and soft purple cashmere sweater. All of it was pulled together with a pair of ankle boots. Then she set her pièce de résistance on her dark curls—a black and purple witch hat with lace and glitter accents. The mirror reflected exactly what she wanted. Sexy, sophisticated and witchy. It was time to claim the role assigned to her by the town and own it with pride.

After loading her car, she drove over to the park grounds where booth set-up was in full swing. She sent a quick text to Gran and Becca, then piled her wagon with her first round of stuff to lug over to their tent space.

“Hey, Bridge,” Becca called out as she approached in her own witch outfit. Opting for pants and a jacket instead, Becca had still managed to look every inch the witch despite the non-traditional clothing.

“Morning! You look great.” She continued to unload her wares onto the first table she’d gotten into place. “I’m almost done with this first load. Do you mind organizing all of this while I get the second round of products?”

“Sure thing. Gran should be here soon.”

The two cousins managed to get the tent set up and decorated to perfection within an hour, giving them a little time to kill before the festival opened and attendees would show up.

“Want to grab a coffee?” Becca asked as Gran walked up.

They hugged hello and Bridget said, “Yes. I need caffeine and something warm sounds heavenly right now. Gran?”

“I’ll stay here, but bring me back a hot cocoa?”

“You got it,” Becca answered and linked her arm with Bridget’s.

They wandered over to the food truck lane and ordered their drinks. Once those were in hand, they sauntered back in the direction of their booth, neither in a major hurry since they still had half an hour to go.

Becca peeked over at her. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Bridget plastered a smile on her face in an attempt to make herself convincing.

Her cousin lifted one brow. “Really? Because while you look all right, anyone who knows you well can see the sadness in your eyes. I’m worried about you.”

“It’s been less than two weeks since Jack and I broke up. Can’t I be a little sad still?”

“Of course you can. I’d be surprised if you weren’t. I’m checking in with you—that’s all I mean. Letting you know I’m here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on or an ear to complain to. Whatever you need.” She put an arm around Bridget’s shoulders and squeezed. “I know you and he weren’t together very long, but everyone could see how in love you were. I’m sorry he hurt you.”

“Me too.” She filled her lungs with the crisp fall air. “It sucks and I’m really sad. And lonely. And heartbroken.” Her voice trembled with unshed tears. She gave her head a shake. “But I can’t stop living. If nothing else, Jack opened my eyes to what else the world can offer outside of the store and I don’t want to go back to living to work anymore. I’d rather work to live and take the time to enjoy life in the true sense. You know?”

Becca smiled and bobbed her head. “I do know.”

“Let’s head back to the tent. I’m excited to see how today goes. I hope all the tracking with the new business software proves correct for having the right products for max appeal and purchasing.” She flashed a real grin. “Maybe we’ll sell out before the lumberjack competition begins and we can watch.”

Becca shrugged noncommittally. “If dudes chopping wood is your thing…” They both burst out laughing as they made their way back.

 

* * * *

The confidence Jack had brought with him this morning was long gone. So far gone, he couldn’t even pretend to remember what it felt like. Now his companion was fear. And anxiety. And possibly death, given what he was about to do. What had possessed him to sign up for this competition? He had lost his mind to believe even with the rookie level he could survive these rounds, let alone give a decent showing. Cornelius was right when he said he was going to lose to a bunch of kids. He was surrounded by teenagers just old enough to be legal and he felt every single one of his thirty-one years. The age gap might as well have been a hundred from the look of things.

“I’m going to get my ass kicked,” he mumbled and picked up his chainsaw. The worst part was, he hadn’t seen one glimpse of Bridget.

Cornelius wandered over to his competition station. “Well, are you ready to just not die?”

He snorted with a nod. “Yeah. That’s the goal. Don’t die.” Jack looked over the line of kids pumped up and waiting to go. “Tell me why I’m doing this again?”

That earned him a look that rivaled the kind Gran gave out. “Because you wanted to impress Bridget and thought this was how to do it. Sorry, dude, but this isn’t the way. I tried to tell you this was a bad idea.”

“I know, I know.” He ran a hand through his hair and scratched at his still-growing-in beard. The salve helped, but this was the itchy stage for him no matter what. “Really, it’s that we need to make our announcement to the entire town and what better way to make myself appealing to them all than look like an idiot? How else are they going to accept me as a local?”

“Maybe by you moving here permanently and owning a business?”

“Point taken. Can’t change things now.”

An announcer began asking for contestants to line up. Jack swallowed hard and looked at his friend. “I guess this is it. Tell my family I died for love.”

Cornelius clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Stop being so dramatic. Don’t die and I’ll see you after. I need you for the bank loan.”

Jack watched his business partner saunter over to the lines of chairs where he joined a few other guys from the logging company. He scanned the crowd one more time, but still didn’t spot Bridget. He clamped down on his frustration. Cornelius had promised she would be here. Supposedly she always watched the games and he banked on getting her attention this way. If she didn’t show up, at least she would hear about the purchasing of TLC and maybe she’d reach out. Maybe.

“Safety equipment on!”

He grabbed his goggles and earmuffs, with a quick check that his heavy bib pants were arranged correctly to protect his legs. The speed chainsaw cut was first on the list. He was given six inches of a massive log to slice one ring from, top to bottom, that was at least a half inch in thickness but no more than one and a half inches wide, then bottom to top immediately after, also within the same thickness. It took incredible muscle control to keep the saw steady for pressure through the wood and also smooth so the cut wasn’t jagged. Jack took a wide stance and bent his knees while gripping the idling chainsaw.

A loud horn blared and he squeezed to set the chain spinning and cut a bite through the wood. Tiny splinters spit everywhere and his arms and legs shook with the effort to keep his body as still as possible while smoothly slicing the blade through the log. His first circle fell to the ground and right away he switched direction to an upward motion and cut his second circle. Muffled cheering surrounded him, but the saw’s whine blocked out everything else. His focus was solely on the piece of wood and the chainsaw in his hands. With a sudden release, the circle of wood fell to the ground and the tension on the blade sprang away. He locked down on his muscles so the blade didn’t swing uncontrolled toward him. He released the power, and the chainsaw shut down.

He stumbled back a step and wiped sweat from his face. Huffing, he looked up to find he wasn’t the last one done. A surge of excitement hit. He wasn’t the fastest, but he’d take somewhere in the middle as a win.

Cornelius ran up with a huge grin on his face. “Man, that was beautiful! Nice work! Now to get you to survive the next two chops and one giant tree climb.”

A wave of exhaustion mixed with terror swept through Jack at Cornelius’ words. Three more events? He was supposed to survive three more events? “I need water.” He grabbed for his bottle and downed half of it. Then he rolled back his already shaking and sore shoulders and looked at the next station. Springboard chopping. Three cuts, each higher than the previous, and using a board to dig into each cut to stand precariously on while chopping. It was madness. No helmets. No goggles. No safety harness. Just two wooden boards and an ax.

He finished his water and headed over to the next station. Once there, he checked in with the referee and took his place at the log. It stood nine feet high with three spots outlined to chop and two six-inch thick boards strategically placed against the stump for use while making the cuts. Jack tugged at his gloves and hefted the wood handle. The horn blared and he hacked away at the first cut. It didn’t need to be wide and deep, just enough to fit the edge of the first springboard so he could jump up and start the next chop. He completed the first and wobbled a moment as he settled into position for the second cut on the opposite side of the stump.

Thirteen chops later and he had enough to shove the second, longer board in place. Jack rose onto it with shaking legs but managed to stay upright. Then he dug into the top of the log. This would be the full cut. He hacked and chopped away making top and bottom diagonal cuts to carve a sharp wedge from one side. Once deep enough, he swiveled to slam his ax into the weak spot on the opposite wall of the log to get a full slice of the log completely cut through. The top foot of the wood teetered and fell to the ground and Jack lowered his ax. His muscles trembled and adrenaline pulsed through his body. He was hot and tired, yet completely on edge and jittery. He felt like an explosion waiting to happen.

He climbed down from the boards and shook off his gloves. Now was his break time and did he ever need it. There was a tent nearby where contestants could rest and wait for their events. He beelined for it. He downed another bottle of water and slumped into a chair, breathing heavily. Closing his eyes, he waited to get control of his body once more. The surge of adrenaline evened out. The trembling in his muscles diminished, though he thought it might be a while before it ceased completely.

“Is this your grand gesture?”

He jerked upright and stared at Becca. “Hey.” That was his lame response? “Um, I don’t know. Maybe?”

Her expression was distinctly unimpressed. “Glad you thought this out. What are you doing here, then? Bridget will be crushed when she finds out you’re here. She’s barely hanging on.”

Jack winced at the stab of pain that her words brought him. It was killing him that he’d hurt her so much. “I never meant to—”

“Oh, I know. But you did. And killing yourself in some silly competition is not good enough. Not for the town and not for her. You’re going to murder Fallbank by leaching it of its economic base, and you think chopping a few logs is going to fix it?” She crossed her arms and glared. “Just get the hell out of town and don’t bother any of us, especially my cousin, again.”

“What if my grand gesture was not stealing the main industry in town and this was to get her attention instead?”

Becca studied him.

He knew if Becca couldn’t forgive him, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance Bridget ever would.

“How are you going to do that?” Becca asked.

He explained his plan and by the end, her begrudging smile gave him hope. “Well? What do you think?”

“It might work. At the very least, you’ll win back a bit of goodwill from the locals. Bridget…she may or may not forgive you.” Becca whipped off her witch hat and ran her fingers through her wavy chin-length hair. “Bridge doesn’t open up to many people. She’s guarded and hides behind Three Sisters Apothecary. Trust is hard for her. When her parents died, it left a hole that, try as she did, Gran couldn’t fill. No one could. Add in that half the town targeted her as the local witch and she keeps herself as small as possible. Hates attention. You somehow found a way to bring her out of her shell. I loved seeing the cousin I know out in the world for everyone to see. I’m terrified she’s going to fall back into her old habits despite her promises not to do so. The wound from you is still fresh and she feels it with every breath. She told me so this morning.”

“I never meant to hurt her this way. I was working to find a solution, but it took me longer to see it than it should have.”

“I know that now, but she doesn’t.”

“Will you bring her here? I’m afraid if I see her around town or at her house, she won’t talk to me. I could come to the shop, but I don’t want to force things. Maybe if she sees me here, if she hears Cornelius’ and my announcement, it will smooth the way for us to talk.”

“I’ll see what I can do to get her to leave the tent for the last part of the rookie competition. She only likes the professional-level stuff. Says the others are too boring and slow.”

Jack laughed. Too boring and slow? Well, he guessed in comparison to the expert competitors, he would seem like a sloth in these events, but his body sure felt otherwise. He touched Becca’s arm. “Thank you for your help. I know I don’t deserve it, but I promise to make it up to her. For the rest of our lives if she’ll have me.”

She rounded her eyes and whistled. “You do mean business. Two months and she’s got you talking about forever.” A grin spread across her cheeks. “Bridget really must be a witch.”