by Erin Wright
Chapter 4
Gage
With a satisfied sigh, Gage closed the door to the oven, two angel food cakes tucked safely inside. He’d gotten so far behind with Sugar being on maternity leave and all, he’d been out of angel food cake for a whole week, and a couple of the regulars didn’t hesitate in telling him that he was falling down on the job. His regulars weren’t exactly wilting wallflowers, and tended to tell him whenever they thought he was screwing something up.
As Gage had told the new fire chief when the guy had moved up to Sawyer a year ago, Sawyerites weren’t ones to bite their tongues. If they liked you, you knew it. If they thought you were a worthless son-of-a-bitch, well, you knew that, too.
According to his regulars, his inability to supply them with an endless quantity of angel food cake over the past week had put him squarely on the worthless son-of-a-bitch list, but now that the angel food cake supply was replenished, he could—
The bakery went black.
Gage froze for a moment, so disoriented that he couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. As his mind ticked through the situation, though, he realized something much worse than a lack of light was happening: His gas ovens had shut off. Although they ran off gas, the blower and pilot light were all electric, which meant that his long-awaited angel food cakes were in the process of deflating and self-destructing at that very moment.
Double shit dammit all to–
He let out a string of curse words that would singe the eyebrows off any poor soul who was listening, and pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. Flicking the flashlight app on, he made his way out of the kitchen – which was completely devoid of any windows – and up to the front of the bakery.
Mrs. Gehring, who’d been working her way through her maple donut and coffee, looked up at him with a worried look on her face. “What happened, do you know?” she asked. There was still plenty of light up in the dining area, all of it streaming through the large plate-glass windows, but it wouldn’t take a sleuth to notice that every piece of electrical equipment in the building had gone silent.
“The lights went out in the pharmacy,” Mr. Maddow chimed in, jerking his head towards the building across the street. Gage looked through the front window and saw that sure enough, the pharmacy was pitch dark. They didn’t have nearly as many windows there as he did in his building, so probably more than a few of their customers were busy walking right into shelves—
Which was when he spotted it – Watson’s Electrical Service. The bright yellow service truck was parked a block up the street. A flash of cold sweat flushed through him from head to toe at the sight. That damn yellow service truck was a harbinger of doom, and it was surely no coincidence that the electricity went out just as Watson’s had shown up.
Stomping over to the front window, he let out a string of swear words that easily put his last string of swear words to shame, and Mrs. Gehring gasped audibly.
“Gage Dyer!” she snapped, her cloud of gray hair bobbing around her face as she scolded him. “Your mother would be very disappointed in you if she heard you talking like that.”
“Watson’s Electrical Service is here,” Gage said simply, pointing down the street at the bright yellow truck. He said it as if that explained everything, because honestly, it did.
“Ooohhhhh…” the bakery patrons all said in unison, as if they’d been practicing the line together for years.
“Well, shit,” Mr. Maddow finally said, a deep scowl on his lined face, working his way over to stand next to Gage. “We’ll be lucky if we have electricity again this year.”
“I thought they took his license away,” Mrs. Gehring said, clearly forgiving Gage for his swearing and moving onto the more important topic at hand. “Didn’t they take his license away?”
“Last I heard, they were still investigating,” Gage murmured, his mind going a million miles an hour as he stared out onto Main Street. No one in Sawyer was stupid enough to hire Watson’s Electrical Service, which meant that…
Sure enough, he saw the balding man in question crossing the street towards his truck, his trajectory exactly what it would’ve been if he’d just exited the shop next door.
Dammit all.
Of course she had – who else would Skittish Girl hire, other than the most incompetent electrician to ever string two wires together? It was just the kind of stupid-ass stunt she’d pull. Gage ground his back teeth together as he imagined wrapping his hands around her neck and squeezing. Tight. The last two times that man had actually snagged a job, his clients had ended up homeless, after Watson had done such a shitastic job of “repairing” their wiring, their homes had burned to the ground before they could even be inspected by the city inspector.
And now the man had darkened at least part of Sawyer, if not all of it.
What did I do in a past life to deserve this woman as my neighbor?
“I’m going next door,” he announced to the bakery. “Considering Watson had a hand in this, it’s gonna be a while before everything’s back online. When you’re done with your food, I’d appreciate it if you headed on out. I’ll be shutting down for the day, after I’ve had a little chat,” he sneered the word, “with our new business owner next door.”
There were a few murmurs of discontent among the ranks, but Gage ignored them, rage boiling inside of him. He was gonna give Skittish Girl hell. Enough of this playing nice bullshit. She’d ruined two cakes, a morning of baking, and cost him his sales for the rest of the day.
No, he wasn’t about to pull any punches. Girl or not, tiny or not, curly hair or not, it didn’t matter. She deserved everything he was about to dish out to her, and more.
This time when he yanked on the door handle, it opened up easily. She’d apparently been leaving it open for Watson to come in and out.
Why in the hell does she trust Watson of all people to come and go freely, but not me?
His eyes searched for the tiny slip of a woman in the semi-darkness of the building, every swear word he’d ever heard and some he’d just invented for the occasion on the tip of his tongue, ready for delivery, when he heard it.
Crying. Someone was crying.
They were quiet about it, but there was no mistaking that sound. Gage had a younger sister – he knew all about crying females.
Gage ground his back teeth together, sure his teeth were going to dissolve into powder by the end of the month if this kept up. Dammit all, he didn’t want a crying woman on his hands. He wanted an angry woman so he could yell at her like she deserved.
Yelling at a crying woman…that was akin to kicking a puppy.
Speaking of things his momma wouldn’t allow, that would definitely top the list.
He finally saw Cady’s huddled form in the deep shadows at the back of the store, and he made his way towards her, cursing his luck under his breath. First Watson had to up and destroy the electrical grid of Sawyer, and now Gage couldn’t even vent his anger about it.
Seriously – what did I do to deserve this? It had to have been something bad.
He must’ve stepped on something or his shoes squeaked because her head snapped up and a dark form streaked off her lap and into a side door. A cat? It had moved like it, but Gage couldn’t tell for sure in the poor lighting.
Skittish Girl scrambled to her feet. “I…I didn’t tell you that you could come in here!” she announced, turning to the side and quickly wiping tears away with the backs of her hands, trying to pretend as if she hadn’t been crying.
Good. Gage much preferred anger over tears. He was loaded for bear and ready to let it all loose. “That’s because I didn’t ask,” he retorted. “What in the hell were you thinking, hiring Watson’s Electrical Services of all places?”
“I…I found him on Craigslist,” she stammered, clearly taken aback by the question. “He was available and he was cheap. What in the hell,” she was mimicking his question, “does it matter to you?”
She had the balls to mimic him when he was so angry
, he wasn’t seeing straight? Didn’t her momma teach her not to poke and taunt a pissed-off man?
“Because he just shut down the electricity to the whole block,” he snapped. “Maybe the whole town, I don’t know.”
“He…he what?!” she stuttered, pushing past him and heading up to the front plate glass windows to peer out into the street. “Oh, shit,” she murmured under her breath, staring out the window at the darkened businesses, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “When we lost electricity in here,” she said so quietly, he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or to herself, “he said he had to go get some parts and he’d be right back. He didn’t mention anything about it affecting anyone else.”
“Shit,” Gage growled as he came up behind her, not in a particularly forgiving sort of mood, “is right—”
And then instinctively, he was ducking because a fist was coming straight at him and he was doing his best to avoid her wild punch while not also reflexively punching her in return like his gut was demanding that he do. “What the hell?!” he yelled, stunned, forcing his balled-up fist to his side before it connected to her face. “What was that for?”
“Would you stop sneaking up on me?” she demanded, breathing heavily, eyes wild with panic.
He stared at her.
She stared back.
“I am just standing here,” he pointed out, as quietly and logically as he could. He’d always been a live-and-let-live sort of guy, but he was beginning to think that the City of Sawyer should start conducting sanity tests before allowing people to buy businesses within city limits. This lady was clearly missing more than a few screws. “What is wrong with me just standing here?”
“Because you’re in my personal space! It’s a thing, you know, even if you’ve never heard of it.”
“Maybe you need to eat more sugar,” he snapped back. “It could sweeten you up, and then you’d be less likely to think every person on the planet is about to attack you from behind.”
Yeah, fine, her sugar comment from all those months ago still stung, he’d admit it. He’d just never had anyone look at the baked goods that he’d worked so hard to make like they were laced with poison.
Who didn’t like donuts, for God’s sake? Was that even legal?
“I do not think everyone is attacking me.” She folded her arms across her chest defensively and stared past him, into the dark interior of the business.
“So, it’s just me that you treat like a potential rapist?” he asked sarcastically. “Any particular reason that you’d like to share with the class?”
Dead silence.
If he hadn’t been watching so closely, he would’ve missed the slight tightening of her mouth at his question. She was otherwise a statue, devoid of anger or happiness or any other human emotion.
“Rule number one when hiring electricians,” he said heavily, deciding to drop the rapist discussion. Whatever her major malfunction was, he wasn’t gonna get the answer out of her. Not today, anyway. “Never choose someone who advertises themselves as available and cheap. Any electrician worth a bucket of warm spit will have high prices and a schedule packed to the brim. Based on your license plates on your Jeep out back, you’re from Boise. Is that right?”
One jerk of her head that could almost be termed a nod was all he got.
“So I get,” he continued, as if it were perfectly normal to have a one-sided conversation, “that you don’t know the local workforce, but why in the hell didn’t you ask around? Anyone from Sawyer – hell, anyone from the whole of Long Valley – could’ve warned you away from him.”
“I didn’t know to ask around!” she protested. “He’s a certified electrician. I looked at the certificate myself before hiring him. Doesn’t that mean something?”
“Usually,” Gage said sarcastically, fighting back the urge to shake some sense into her. “But last I heard, they’re in the middle of trying to decide whether or not to pull that certificate. His last two clients are now homeless because after his handyman work, their homes are now smoldering piles of lumber.”
“Wha…” Her gaze, which had been firmly planted somewhere behind him, finally shot up to his face. “Are you being serious?” she breathed. For the first time since he met her, she didn’t look combative or pissed off. She looked genuinely worried.
Good. Finally, he was getting through to her.
“Yes. Unfortunately. Since you’re from Boise, he probably thought he could actually get a job working for you. No one around here will hire him anymore. Honestly, I was hoping he’d moved on and was terrorizing someone else’s town. I can’t say I’m thrilled to see him back here.”
“What…what do I do?” Her voice was small, as small as her, and Gage felt a little of his anger seep away in the face of her bewilderment. “He said he’d be right back after he got some parts from Franklin. He told me what was wrong, but it didn’t mean much to me – it just sounded like a bunch of gibberish, honestly. I don’t know much about wiring and electricity…”
She trailed off.
It probably was gibberish, but Gage managed to keep that uncharitable thought to himself, if only barely. There was no doubt about it: Watson had seen this lady coming from a mile away. He’d probably told her that the warp core was out of alignment, knowing that she’d just nod and agree that this was a terrible problem to have.
Shit, shit, shit.
She’d shrunk in the last three minutes, her outsized personality deflating right before his eyes and finally matching her tiny body. He didn’t want to see that. He wanted to be pissed at her. He wanted to shake her by the shoulders and demand to know where her common sense ran off to. He wanted to demand to know if she was going to reimburse him for missed sales and the two ruined cakes in his oven.
And yet…
“C’mon,” he sighed, pulling the front door open. “We need to call Idaho Power and tell them what’s going on so they can send a truck up here and get the electricity back on. You need to lock this door and refuse to let Watson back in. When he comes back, tell him he’s fired. Better yet, let me tell him. If he doesn’t understand the concept, I’ll explain it using my fists.” The idea held more than a little appeal to him, honestly. Watson was a guy who Gage would gladly chew up and spit out just for fun. “In the meanwhile, I have two ruined cakes in my oven that I need to throw away.”
Skittish Girl stopped rummaging through her purse for a moment and looked up at him apologetically. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?” she asked in a small voice.
Gage from twenty minutes ago warred with Now Gage, demanding that he say, “Yes, yes it is!” She’d mucked things up and he should make her pay for it, and…
“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said. “They had a lot of sugar in them anyway.”
The corners of her mouth quirked up just a bit at that, and he grinned to himself. So, she had a sense of humor after all. Good to know.
Finally, she produced her keys and locked the front door behind them, and then followed him back to the bakery. He noticed that she was careful to walk behind him, not in front of him like women usually did – women first, and all that – and he wondered for the millionth time exactly what her story was.
But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that she wasn’t about to tell him. He was fairly sure she’d rather eat a bucket of rusty nails than open up to a stranger.
He pulled the bakery door open to the sounds of chaos.
“There you are!” Mr. Burbank from the hardware store snapped. “What is going on? The power’s been out for a half hour now and Mr. Maddow here says that the girl next door hired Watson’s Electric–you!” He cut himself off, rounding on Skittish Girl as she followed Gage into the bakery. “Did you hire Watson?”
The bakery was quiet as a church as every eye swiveled to her, waiting for her answer. Gage was close enough to see her swallow hard, her hands trembling, and then she hid them behind her back and said, “I did. I didn’t know—”
“And you didn�
��t ask!” Mr. Burbank interrupted. “If you’d spent more time researching electricians and less time trying to find tiny hammers, you would’ve known that Watson is nothing but a worthless pile of sh—”
“She’s not going to have him come back,” Gage said, interrupting the tirade he could tell wasn’t going to end on its own any time soon. He shouldn’t, of course – he should let Mr. Burbank give it to her with both barrels. Ignorance didn’t make his cakes any less ruined. But he’d been raised to pick on people his own size, and in this moment, this woman wasn’t anywhere close to Mr. Burbank’s size. “She’s going to call Idaho Power to explain the situation; they’ll get us up and going. In the meanwhile, everyone in here needs to clear out. Take your donuts and coffee and go home. I’ll see you all tomorrow, I’m sure.”
Mr. Burbank glared at the woman as he stormed out, muttering not so quietly under his breath about “big city girls too stupid to live” as he went. Mr. Maddow and Mr. Behrend threw back the last of their coffee and also left, avoiding the gaze of both Gage and the woman as they exited. Mrs. Gehring patted the woman on the shoulder as she passed, her cane firmly gripped in her other hand.
“Everyone does dumb things, dear,” she said. “Just do try not to shut down the whole town next time, eh?”
And then she too was outside, leaving just Gage alone with his neighbor, who looked distinctly miserable.
“What’s your name?” he asked bluntly. Although appropriate, Skittish Girl wasn’t going to work if he was going to be stuck with her as a neighbor.
“Cady with a C,” she said, and he could tell she’d said that a thousand times. “Walcott – one L, two T’s.” That, too, was well rehearsed.
“Well Cady with a C, I’m Gage Dyer.” He stuck out his hand and they shook, before she pulled her hand away and hid it behind her back again. “This was my grandparents’ bakery, and until I took it over from them four years ago, it was named the Dyer Bakery.”
“Die-her?” Cady’s horrified gaze met his. “Like, the bakery that kills?”