Chapter Seven

Sarah sipped her latte while she worked on the job descriptions and marketing pieces for Timber Logging Company at a window table in the Evergreen Espresso. The view highlighted Main Street’s vintage buildings, a gray sky and a steady fall of rain—exactly what to expect from early spring in the Pacific Northwest. The cozy feel of the cafe was bright and inviting though. Tiny vases with fresh flowers sat on each table giving a hint of the warmer weather to come.

If she were honest, the job postings weren’t too difficult. Jack and Cornelius had the means to pay higher wages and offer better benefits than most of their competitors. Jack knew how to find avenues within TLC to cut costs so the money could be funneled into hiring and keeping quality employees. It was a sound proposition. A reliable workforce meant getting hired to clear land, which equated to more money coming into the business to keep it progressing forward.

Finding ways to advertise for TLC was a bit trickier. She’d dug into how to pitch for some of the state and national forestry services and those were great contracts if the company could get them. There was also ensuring the local farms knew about TLC for their lumber harvesting, too. Sarah had a few ideas sketched out and was fleshing out a forestry service slide deck when another woman approached her.

“It is you, Sarah Wildes. I thought I’d heard you were back home and here you are!”

Sarah lifted the corners of her lips into a small smile. Dorothy Ferrars, antique shop owner and Fallbank’s most notorious busybody, vibrated next to her table. “Hello, Ms. Ferrars. How are you?”

Dorothy waved a hand. “None of this Ms. Ferrars business. Call me Dori. You’re not a young girl running wild anymore. What brings you back here all the way from Seattle?”

Sarah winced on the inside. She knew as soon as Dori heard the news, it would be gossiped about all over. One reason she loved Seattle was the anonymity. Small towns with small populations meant everything was big news. “Oh, just back here to help with Bridget’s wedding. She and Jack set a date for June. I’m covering some shifts at Three Sisters and some other little projects.”

The other woman peered at Sarah’s laptop. “Looks like more than that. I’d forgotten you have that marketing degree from U-Dub.” Dori puffed up like a proud mother hen. “So impressive to have one of our own make it big in the city.”

“Thank you, but I—”

“Now that I think about it, I could use some marketing for my shop. Antiquing has become quite the hip thing to do these days. So many young people have learned the joys of finding treasure.” The shop owner preened. “I bet you could help me.”

Help her? Unease spread along her shoulders. What did she mean by that? “Well…”

“You aren’t bothering my customers, are you, Dori?” Sam, the coffee shop owner, asked as he paused by the table. He flashed a quick grin at Sarah. She tossed a grateful quirk of her brows to him.

“Of course not. Just talking business with one of our own.”

Irritation spiked. It irked Sarah that townspeople were more inclusive of her than her sister. It didn’t make sense. Bridget was nothing but sweet, yet her shyness made people think she was standoffish. True, Bridget had always been more involved in the store and making products, but still… The way townsfolk called Bridge a witch incensed Sarah.

“Business, huh?” Sam asked. “You offering services? I’d get in on that. A couple of employees think we should start offering activities like a book club and maybe an open mic night. Don’t know how we’d drum up participants, though.”

Sarah nodded and made a sympathetic sound. “That would take some thought and planning.”

“Well, what are your rates?” Dori jumped in. “I want on your schedule before the whole town gets in on it.”

“I’m not sure—”

“Give the girl time to noodle on ideas and time estimates. Then she can let us know in a week or so. We’ll circle back to you, Sarah.” Sam patted her on the shoulder and escorted Dori away.

Sarah blinked at her screen. What the hell had just happened? With a small shake of her head, she murmured, “I guess I’m working freelance for now.” At least the extra income would be a bonus. Focusing back on her current project, she sighed when another shadow fell over her. She looked up and froze.

“Hey, Sarah,” Cornelius said.

He looked rugged and dirty, as if he’d just come off a logging job, like a lumberjack from the romance novels she devoured. His flannel shirt did outstanding things to his shoulders and chest. The sight of him did outstanding things to her lady bits.

“Hey, yourself.” She licked her lips. “What’re you doing here?”

“Long day. I needed a pick-me-up.”

“Everything okay?” A tickle of worry brushed down her neck and goosebumps spread across her arms.

He rested a hand on the back of the empty chair at her table and she nudged it out with her foot. As he sank into it, he moved his head from side to side. “Yes and no. I hired on two new recruits from the community college and they’re green, to say the least. Lots of training and watching like a hawk to keep them from making mistakes that could kill someone.”

“Sounds exhausting. If you already hired new people, why did Jack ask me to work on these job postings?” Were the two guys not talking to one another? She didn’t want to invest her time in a project that wouldn’t be used or cause problems between Cornelius and Jack.

Cornelius laughed, but it felt flat and lifeless. “For the very reasons I just named. We need some seasoned loggers, not just newbies. Somebody needs to keep their dumb asses from falling off a cliff or getting brained by a tree.”

A giggle-snort escaped her. “Yeah, that would be good. Makes liability insurance premiums stay reasonable.”

“True.” He sat back and sipped his coffee. “How’s the job search going?”

Sarah lifted a shoulder. “Not great, but Gran says it’s too early to get responses. On the plus side, I am getting freelance offers from local stores. Sam and Dorothy want help.”

“That’s great! Maybe you could start your own marketing firm.”

Why did that keep getting suggested to her? “Maybe, but it’s so hard to get that up and running. There’s so many big players in Seattle already. I’d have to do a ton of planning and prep to get a loan large enough to get a firm off the ground.”

He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. Cornelius jumped and grabbed for it in his pocket. “Sorry, I’m just…” He trailed off as he looked at the screen. “Ugh. A stupid scam call.” He set down his phone and looked back up.

Sarah was hit with those deep blue eyes framed by black glasses and it knocked the air from her for a second. Inhaling the scent of fresh ground coffee beans and fir needles, she drew her brows together. Something more was up with Cornelius than work stuff. He wasn’t one to let a new employee or two get him this depressed. “Waiting to hear from someone?”

He darted his eyes at her, then away. For a moment she wondered if he would answer at all. “My parents.” His voice was gruff. “My mom’s having treatment today and they’re supposed to call afterward.”

“Treatment? Is Clarissa sick?” She sat up, fear curling in her stomach. Cornelius’ parents had been so generous and accepting of her, even after the break-up. She hated to think of anything happening to either of them.

He chewed on his lower lip. “Mom has breast cancer.” The words fell out on a shaky breath,

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Sarah wrapped her hands around his. The open vulnerability in his eyes gutted her. All of her instincts flared to comfort him.

“She says she’ll be all right. Surgery was about a week or so ago and chemo started this week after giving her a little time to heal. Mom insists her doctors feel they caught it early and will be able to beat it.”

“But it’s still scary as hell.” She couldn’t imagine his inner turmoil. Her heart thumped in an uneven rhythm.

“Yeah. Super fucking frightening.”

She squeezed his hands, savoring the warm roughness of his skin. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.” Cornelius shook his head. “Not a damn thing anyone but the doctors and Mom can do.”

“For you? What do you need?” Idleness was not an option. She needed action of some kind, anything that could ease his distress.

Cornelius shifted moods in a nanosecond. His hands were yanked from hers and he was pushing to standing. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” His expression turned cold and sharp for a moment, so fast Sarah thought she might have imagined it. He dipped his chin in a quick nod. “I’m all good. Nothing to complain about. Mom’s my concern.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Anyway, sorry for interrupting you, Sarah. See you around.”

Before she could utter a goodbye, he strode out. She was left bewildered and staring after him at a complete loss for what had caused his speedy change in attitude.

 

* * * *

 

Good grief, what was wrong with him? Cornelius punched the wheel of his truck and growled. He had to move on from Sarah. Why would he go up to her, then sit and pour out his troubles? His conscience tried to guilt him over how he’d snapped at Sarah when he’d departed, but he ignored it. She might not understand his treatment of her, but she also didn’t warrant an explanation.

Cornelius drove home and stomped into his back shed where he’d set up a woodworking station. He and Jack had spent a lot of hours out here as Cornelius had learned the ins and outs of the craft. Now, Cornelius made little figures through whittling and filing and sanding, cat trees that he donated to the local shelter to give to new pet parents and the occasional larger furniture piece as inspiration struck him. He eyed his current project, a curio cabinet made from reclaimed barn wood and leftovers from logging timber. The base was complete, but he was piecing together the top half. He’d decided on a mosaic of sorts, mixing and matching different woods in a herringbone pattern to showcase the back wall that would be the backdrop for whatever knickknacks were placed inside.

He’d known this would be his wedding present to Bridget and Jack when starting the project and now felt pressure to ensure it was perfect. It would fit the rustic, cabin-in-the-woods vibe they had going with the new house, but he’d never given one of his creations to a friend. Family, really.

He often wondered if he was meant to be alone in this life. Sure, his parents were great and they loved him, yet they’d retired out of state. He had the guys from TLC, but most of them held him at a distance since Cornelius was their boss. Even as a child, his circle of friends had been small.

Bridget was almost his little sister and Jack was the missing brother from his life. At one point, Becca’s older brother had been that pillar, but after joining the Army, Hop didn’t make it back to Fallbank much at all. There’d been Sarah, the woman he thought would be his forever. But she’d left him, too.

On a whim, Cornelius pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Hop saying hello. They still kept in touch—so he’d know if Hop was still alive and out there, but it could be days before Cornelius heard anything back. Picking up a piece of wood, Cornelius let himself fall into the rhythm of measuring and sanding and sawing and constructing. Woodworking had fast become a love of his. The concentration gave a meditative quality to his brain and let him work out his feelings through the craft. It didn’t require socializing or exerting himself outside of his comfort zone. He liked the solitude and simplicity. He could process his emotions or at least not feel quite so alone as when he sat in his living room, watching hockey or football or whatever game he could find while eating dinner for one on his couch.

A block of wood that was taking shape with slow, but steady work was waiting on his tool bench. He’d began this piece a week ago when a certain female had blown back into his life. Shying away from examining where the urge to create this piece came from, he’d accepted the creative desire and made progress as the fancy hit him. It gave him a renewed sense of purpose.

Cornelius didn’t know when he’d become so dissatisfied with his life or complacent in letting it slip by, but at least with this hobby, he could have a tangible product at the end. He might not have the love of a significant other, or even a roommate anymore, but he could be productive with work. His mark on the world might not be left behind with children and grandchildren, but his business and support of the local economy in Fallbank would be worth something. Right?

His phone chimed. “Thank God,” he muttered then looked at the text. To his surprise, Hop had responded already.

 

Hop: Still alive and well. Heading back from this last deployment in about a month. At least that’s what they tell me.

 

Cornelius: I hope that’s true, bro. How many does this make? Where are you these days?

 

Hop: This makes round six. Heading back from sandy places with no beaches is all I can say. Looking forward to getting stateside again.

 

Cornelius: Think you’ll make it to Fallbank for Bridget’s wedding? I know she’d love to have you here.

 

When Hop didn’t respond right away, Cornelius sighed and went back to sanding a piece of Douglas fir that was next up in his pattern for the cabinet. He didn’t know why Hop hadn’t come home after those first few years in the Army, but his friend hadn’t returned to Fallbank in over a decade. Cornelius should have known not to push when Hop was at least texting back, but he missed his friend. And Cornelius knew Bridget missed her cousin. She was more sensitive to family leaving her than the rest of their clan. Having him at her wedding would mean the world to her.

His cell screen lit up with another text. Holy shit, he hadn’t scared Hop off.

 

Hop: Maybe. I’ll have to see if I get back in time. June, right?

 

Cornelius: Yep, June third. I bet Gran and Becca would be happy, too. Your parents are making the trip out.

 

Hop: Yeah. Becca let me know. She’s been riding my tail to get me to commit. I’ll do what I can.

 

Cornelius paused and debated his next words, but he needed to know.

 

Cornelius: Hey, you still live by the ‘don’t get back with your ex’ rule?

 

Hop: Shit yeah. Don’t go back is my motto. There’s a reason we broke up, so stay that way.

 

He read his friend’s words with a slow nod. That was what he figured. Cornelius needed to take the advice from a man who’d learned the hard way on this. Better to move on with someone new than go back and relive the heartache.

 

Cornelius: Gotcha. Hope things are going all right for you. We miss you, dude.

 

Hop: Same here. Gotta run. Duty calls.

 

Cornelius: Stay safe.

 

This time when Hop didn’t reply, Cornelius understood why. Instead, he focused back on his task at hand. He let his mind turn off for the evening and got lost in the creative flow. By the time he headed inside for the night, he’d gotten a third of the back wall completed. Between the woodworking and his brief connection to Hop again, Cornelius felt lighter than when he’d left the coffee shop. His emotions might still be a bit raw from everything going on in his life, but at least he held a strand or two of kinship with someone in the world other than his ex.