by Norah Wilson
“Thank you, Titus and Ocean!”
“Can I give you a hand?” Ember asked.
April smiled. “No, I’ve got it. Why don’t you and Jace take your coffee into the living room? You too,” she said to Arden and Faye.
Arden rubbed his belly. “That sounds like a grand idea.”
Scott grinned. Uncle Arden would be dozing in his chair in ten minutes.
Ember insisted on helping clear the table, but then she let April shoo her out.
“Don’t even try to chase me away,” Scott said. “I’m helping with that mountain of dishes.”
She eyed him. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a hard time accepting a gift?”
“It’s a character flaw. One of many.” He picked up a plate and scraped the few remaining food morsels off into the garbage disposal, then moved on to the next, stacking them as he went.
She opened the dishwasher and started placing the plates wherever she could fit them. Of course, the already partially loaded racks filled up long before the last plate. She started the machine, then turned to the sink. Filling it with dishes and hot, soapy water, she attacked the job. Scott grabbed a clean dish towel and started drying them and putting them away.
“So, Arden made me a very interesting offer this afternoon.”
“Uncle Arden?” He looked at her sharply. “What kind of offer?”
“He invited me to stay on permanently.”
“Really?” Holy crap. Where was the money going to come from to finance that? Once Titus took over the management role again, the money that had been going to April would have to be redirected to Titus. Of course, she’d made up her mind to accept K.Z. McCoy’s offer, so it was moot anyway.
“Yes, really.” She dropped the dishcloth and turned toward him, planting her damp hands on her hips. “He mentioned that there would be a salary cut once you leave, since apparently the stipend for the farm’s management has been going to me instead of you.”
Dammit. Busted. “What do I need a salary for? This is like a vacation for me, but with free room and board. And really, really good food.”
“Be serious, Scott.”
“I am being serious.” He reached for another mug and dried it. “There’s no way I could take that stipend anyway. I’d have felt guilty as hell accepting it since I left Titus here to manage alone all these years. The least I could do is roll that money back into the operation. Besides, I don’t need it April. I’ve worked hard, saved plenty.” He put the mug on its hook and reached for another. “I hope I don’t have to tell you again how much you’ve contributed around here.”
Some of the tension seemed to go out of her. “You should have told me.”
He hung the second mug up, then draped the towel over his shoulder. “Would you have taken the job if I had?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, there you go.”
“You fibbed.” She sighed and plunked more dishes into the water. “Maybe I did too.”
“On the Northern Ontario job? Yeah. I figured it might be a…bit of a stretch.”
“I guess I can’t be terribly mad at you for—”
“Fibbing by omission?”
She smiled.
“So what did Uncle Arden say when you told him you’re going to Boston to work for that McCoy woman?”
“I didn’t tell him.”
“No?” His heart leaped. Was she reconsidering? “Why not?”
She shrugged. “Arden made a good offer.”
What? “Didn’t you say your salary would be reduced?”
“Yeah, but he said the farm could maybe supply me with free organic fruit for my business to make up for it.”
Way to go, Uncle Arden. “That’s actually pretty smart. And it would allow Sid to stay in school.”
“Oh, you can bet Arden didn’t miss the chance to reinforce that.” She plunged a pot into the dish water and attacked it with a nylon pad. “He suggested if I couldn’t commit permanently, that I at least should think about staying until the school year is done.”
She rinsed the pot and put it on the dish rack. He picked it up and dried it absently, his attention focused on her.
“That’s not exactly a monetary win for you, though, is it, if they cut your salary? School’s done in June, and you’d need to stay through July and August to benefit from the berry crops, and through to the fall for the apples.”
“He said I could have my own garden too, for herbs and vegetables.”
He smiled. “Mom used to keep a garden. I bet that would make him happy to see you resuscitate it.” Her shoulders seemed to wilt, so he hastened to add, “Not that it’s your responsibility to make Arden happy, or anyone else for that matter.”
She turned to him, her face pinched. “What do you think I should do?”
God, she looked so lovely. It made his heart hurt to see her struggling. “I think you should do what’s best for you and Sid. Period.”
That produced a ghost of a smile. “Well, we’re agreed on that. Now if I just knew which path would take us there, it would be a piece of cake.”
He put down his dishtowel and pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, pressing herself to his chest. He rubbed her back. “You know, I read something interesting about making decisions like this, in a sciency article.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They say you shouldn’t stress yourself out about trying to make the best possible decision in the history of decisions, as though the fate of the world depended on it. Instead, you should focus on making a decision that’s what they called ‘good enough’. The point being that your life won’t be all rainbows and unicorns if you make one decision, and it won’t be absolute crap if you make a different decision. Either way, you’ll have heartaches and challenges. Either way, you’ll have joys and triumphs. So a good enough decision is…well, good enough.”
“Wow.” She pulled back to look up at him. “That might be the wisest advice I’ve ever been given.”
He grinned. “I did say I read it in a sciency article, didn’t I?”
She went up on tiptoe and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“So have you made a decision?”
“No, but I’ll feel better about whatever choice I make.”
“Good.” He kissed the top of her head and released her, picking up his dish towel again.
They went back to work in silence. No doubt she was weighing the pros and cons.
One thing was for sure: he was going to have to call his partner again. Just days ago, he’d notified Georgie that he’d likely be staying in New Brunswick until February or March. Last night, after April had told him about the offer Stone Thibault extended on K.Z. McCoy’s behalf, he’d messaged his buddy, saying he’d be there early in January after all. Now…hell, he didn’t even know what he could tell his friend, other than that his departure date was up in the air again. He wouldn’t blame Georgie if he decided to write him off and invite his brother-in-law into the project. At least then Georgie’s sister would be happy.
But damn, Georgie was going to be pissed. Maybe Scott would wait until the new year to make that call, let his buddy enjoy his holiday. No point stirring up anxiety at this point. April could yet decide to accept the Boston offer, in which case he’d have given Georgie an ulcer over nothing.
If she opted to stay, he’d stay too, at least for a month or two. He’d promised April as much when he’d made his own pitch for her to stay, and he’d keep that promise if it killed him. If that meant the Alberta project had to move on without him, so be it. And if his dawdling put Georgie in a tight spot financially, Scott would provide financing to bridge him until his brother-in-law could get his ducks in a row.
“There. The last pot,” April said. “Thank you for helping.”
“Least I could do after that dinner.” He picked up the skillet and dried it, put it away, and hung the dishtowel on its peg. When he turned around, she was standing there with a Christmas gift in her hands.
&nb
sp; “I didn’t get a chance to give you your gift earlier.”
He took it from her, noting it was heavier than he thought it would be. He hoped she hadn’t spent too much money. He’d dropped quite a bit for that custom silver bracelet from that local jewelry designer Jace was helping get established, but he could afford to. In retrospect, he’d have happily paid twice the price for the pleasure that little bracelet had put on her face, the happiness in her eyes.
“Go on,” she urged. “Open it.”
He put the package down on the kitchen counter, tore the paper off. The smell of fine leather reached him before he’d even lifted the box’s lid. “Jesus, April.” It was motorcycle chaps. He pulled them out to examine them. “These are gorgeous. Fully lined, expansion panel in the thigh...”
“Titus helped me pick them out. He said you could use something warmer.”
“I love them, but it’s too much.”
“I love that they’ll help keep you safe and warm when you’re cruising those highways.”
She slid her arms around him and he tossed the chaps back in the box so he could gather her close.
“Now kiss me before I have to go out and watch Sid ride her bike in the plant nursery.”
He did.
Oh, how he did.
Chapter 36
APRIL WAS enjoying having the house to herself.
Sidney was back in school after the Christmas break. Titus and Ocean had gone to Ocean’s cottage at the lake where Titus was installing new fixtures in the bathroom while Ocean worked on her play. Arden and Faye had driven off for their Montreal hockey vacation and Ember had gone back to work at her practice. Even Scott had run out for a while. The dairy farm down the road was having a problem with the stainless steel piping system and had called Scott for help. Why was she not surprised that he had pipefitting skills?
The oven timer sounded. Humming, she pulled out the pan of breakfast bars. Or what would become breakfast bars when they cooled enough to be chilled, cut up and individually wrapped.
She put another pan into the oven and went to top up her coffee. Carrying it to the window, she looked out on the yard through a curtain of swirling snow. It had snowed every other day since Christmas, or so it seemed. Though it wasn’t actively snowing at the moment, there was a good six inches of white stuff on the roof. When the wind gusted, that dry powder eddied around like crazy, making the world outside look like a shaken snow globe. She wrapped her hands around her warm mug, feeling cozy. Happy.
Scott had been right. Making a “good enough” decision had taken the pressure off.
Sid had been ecstatic, of course, when April had told her they would stay on until she finished the school year. So ecstatic that April had felt the need to remind her that they would definitely be leaving in June.
Scott had been happy too. At least, she thought so. Since his project out west was on hold, he’d be staying until the end of February himself. Sometimes, though, when he didn’t know she was watching, she sensed he was battling with himself. Apart from those short few days in Montreal, he’d been in Harkness since the Thanksgiving weekend in October. The urge to be moving on was probably right there all the time, under the surface.
Most of the time, though, he seemed very present. Tonight after supper, he was taking her and Sid skating. The community didn’t have a real arena, but the Furrow family on the other side of Harkness turned their old, unused pig barn into a rink every winter. She grinned. Skating in a pig barn! Scott had assured Sidney that it no longer smelled of pigs after all these years. April hoped he was right.
She’d yet to communicate her decision to Stone Thibault. Her happiness dimmed a little. She knew it was too much to hope that K.Z. McCoy would wait six months for her, but as Scott said, it would work out one way or another.
She’d call Stone this afternoon after the baking was out of the way and the kitchen cleaned up.
Decision made, she drained her coffee. Bootilicious bars were next. They were still her bestsellers, despite being almost identical to her regular breakfast bars. It was all in the name, evidently.
She was reaching for the dried cranberries when she heard a cell phone ring over by the sink. Scott’s phone, she realized from the ringtone. He must have left it when he’d headed out to the Eschers’. It rang a few more times, then stopped.
She’d just uncapped a huge jar of raw honey when the house phone started ringing. She answered it on the second ring. “Hello.”
“I’m looking for Scott,” a male voice said. “I just tried his cell phone, but there was no answer.”
“Oh, was that you a moment ago?” she said. “Sorry about that. He got called out during breakfast to help a neighbor and forgot his phone.”
“Can you have him call me? Like, as soon as you can. Name’s George Hemsworth.”
The tension in the man’s voice wiped the smile off her face. “Is something wrong?”
“I just got Scott’s text putting me off until the end of freakin’ February.”
“Umm…”
The caller sighed. “I’m sorry. That was rude. Is this April?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry, April. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.” The edge of exasperation in his voice was replaced now by anxiety. “I just don’t think this project will wait that long, know what I mean?”
“Of course.” Her stomach felt like a tight, hot ball of lead. Scott had lied to her about the delay. Or if not outright lied, he’d allowed her to believe the delay was for other causes—permits or approval or financing or something like that. She took a deep breath. “Actually, I could use a little clarification. Is the project being delayed because of Scott?”
“To be fair, he gave me his blessing to go ahead and bring another partner on if I can’t wait, but it’s not that easy.” His tone was almost apologetic now. “I don’t have Scott’s track record with a project this size. Without him on board, I just don’t know if I can pull it off. This is the biggest thing we’ve ever undertaken. Hell, it’s the project of a lifetime. A real game-changer for us. Well, for me, anyway. So you can see why I need to talk to him.”
“I can definitely see.” The words came out so normal, so calm. “I’ll let him know you called the moment I see him. I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.”
“Thanks, April.”
“No problem.” She hung up.
Big fucking problem.
Scott’s presence in Harkness through to the new year had factored into her taking the job in the first place. And his continued presence for the next couple of months had tipped the balance of her recent decision to stay on. But she never would have stayed if she’d known she was holding Scott back from…what had George called it? The project of a lifetime. Here she was collecting what should effectively be Scott’s salary while simultaneously allowing him to jeopardize his big break.
The phone rang. Probably Scott checking on the whereabouts of his phone. She snatched the receiver up. “Hello.”
Her terse tone must have taken the caller aback because there was a few seconds’ silence. “Is this April Morgan?”
Definitely not Scott. But the female voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Yes, it’s April.” She leaned closer to look at the call display. The school? “Is everything okay with Sid?”
“It’s Amanda Carr, the school secretary. Principal Makepeace would like you to come down to the school as soon as you can.”
April’s legs went weak. She pulled a chair away from the table and sank down on it. “What is it? Is Sidney all right?”
“Your daughter is fine, Ms. Morgan. But Ms. Makepeace would like to speak to you in person. When can you come?”
Eden wouldn’t be asking her to go to the school for a social visit. Something was wrong. That ball of lead in her stomach suddenly felt the size of a bowling ball.
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
She hung up the phone. Grabbing an oven mitt, she yanked the partially cooked breakfast bars out and plunked th
em on the stovetop. She turned off the oven and tore off her apron. With a last look around the kitchen, she grabbed her keys and coat and headed for the door.
Chapter 37
APRIL TWISTED the leather handle of her purse nervously as she waited in the school’s outer office.
The door to the principal’s office opened. “Thanks for coming in, Ms. Morgan,” Eden said. “Right this way.”
Ms. Morgan? They’d worked together so closely on the Halloween party, and Eden had been very friendly at the market. April had a feeling this sudden formality didn’t bode well.
It didn’t.
April entered the room to see Sidney, her head hanging down, squirming in a black plastic chair. Several chairs over, another kid and a man she presumed to be his father sat in identical chairs. And oh, crap, the kid—Will Peterson—had a swollen lip. She glanced at his dad. His name was Tim, she was pretty sure. An accountant, maybe? Definitely a professional, judging by the suit he wore beneath his wool car coat. And actually, the kid looked almost like a replica of his father. Well, except for the fat lip.
April looked at Eden, catching a flicker of sympathy on the other woman’s face. This was so not looking good.
April trained her attention back on her daughter. “Sid, do you want to tell me what this is about?”
Deliberately, she directed the question to Sidney rather than the principal. She wasn’t so far removed from Morganville—aka that family from hell—that she didn’t remember what it was like to be sitting right where Sidney was now. But in April’s case, she’d sat in front of her accusing father rather than a school principal. Small, alone and voiceless. She was determined that her daughter would never feel that way. Not while she was around.
Will came to his feet. “She smacked me, that’s what happened!”
“You had it coming!” Sidney shot back.
“Sidney, Will! Enough.”
The room fell silent again at Eden Makepeace’s command.
“What happened here, Eden?” Tim demanded. “Why are Mrs. Morgan and I—”