Fierce at Heart (The Kincaids of Pine Harbour)

by Zoe York

  It wasn’t, and Isla knew it. She just hated that someone else knew it, too. “I have ideas for more layered marketing plans.”

  “But you don’t have time to implement them. Of course you don’t, it’s a full-time job.”

  “Maybe I’ve given you the wrong impression, but the bakery isn’t making enough money to pay for a full-time marketing specialist.”

  Bailey smiled confidently. “Not yet. But if I did my job correctly, it would more than pay for itself. And I’d be willing to work on commission to prove that to you.”

  Isla thanked Bailey for her earnest and very good proposal, and then turned her down firmly. Not this year. Maybe next.

  But she didn’t stop thinking about it across the rest of the morning, and some of the things Bailey had suggested niggled at her, sharp and pointy, because they were things Isla leaned on Adam for, and other things she wanted to do but knew she didn’t have time for.

  She wanted to talk about it out loud, but when she got home, Stevie was visiting, and ended up staying for the whole afternoon. She went upstairs to Adam’s room for that nap, and when she woke up again, it was dark, dinner was on the table, and they had acquired a couple more guests as well.

  Talking out her business plans with her husband would have to wait.

  Chapter Twenty

  The cold snap roared in late Monday night, long after they were asleep. They’d gone to bed early—in bed by eight, mutual orgasms by nine, and lights out at nine-forty-five, snuggled in together in Adam’s room—and when they woke up just before five, the temperature had dropped significantly.

  Adam was thrilled when Isla agreed it was too cold to walk the five blocks to the bakery.

  She still protested that it took longer for her car to warm up than it did to drive there, but at least she wasn’t exposed to the biting wind at five-thirty in the morning for longer than she needed to be.

  By mid-day, the weather had worsened.

  Adam: Text me when you get home.

  Isla: I’m already cozy under a blanket, working on my business plan for Q1. I forgot to tell you Bailey Patel had an interesting idea.

  Adam: I’ll call you after our training meeting this afternoon.

  But he didn’t get a chance to call her, because there were two calls back to back before dinner, a car accident that needed fire support and then a carbon monoxide alarm that wouldn’t stop going off in one of Pine Harbour’s few low-slung apartment buildings.

  “Shitty evening to need to evacuate,” Richard said.

  It was the first thing they’d agreed on in days. Adam silently nodded. The volunteer fire brigade was called out to manage the residents, who were temporarily sheltered in the United Church basement. By the time they had cleared every apartment, it was nearly ten at night.

  Adam didn’t even try to call Isla, he didn’t want to risk waking her up if she was already asleep.

  None of them felt like cooking when they got back, so they all fended for whatever leftovers were easiest to grab. Then Richard and Stan took the recliners, Denise crashed on the couch, and Adam headed downstairs in search of his brother because Owen was working the night shift.

  He’d just hit the bottom of the stairs when the alarm sounded. Busy night, he thought as he headed to the garage. Shoes off, step into the boots. Pants up, suspenders over his shoulder. He turned up the radio strapped across his chest, then pulled on his protective hood, then his coat.

  By the time he was dressed, the others were in their positions, too. Richard vaulted into the driver seat, no sign of the tired old man who’d wanted to rack out on the recliner just ten minutes earlier.

  For all the grief his team gave him, Adam had to acknowledge they were relentlessly professional when it mattered.

  And when Richard pulled into the frigid night and asked dispatch for the address, Adam was damn glad for that professionalism.

  “Pumper 2, this is a retail location. 139 Main Street. General alarm sounding inside a store. Name of the store is Bake Sale. I repeat, 139—”

  Adam’s blood ran cold. He shot a quick look at Denise, who nodded back at him, then hit her radio button. “Dispatch, this is Pumper 2’s team lead. One of our firefighters is married to the owner of that building. We may need additional support. ETA in—”

  She paused and Richard cut in. “Ninety seconds.”

  “Understood, Pumper 2.”

  The longest ninety seconds of Adam’s life. It was a general alarm, triggered by the updated system he’d installed for Isla when she bought the place. It could be nothing, but if it wasn’t, she would be devastated.

  He would be, too.

  Riding backwards in the truck, he couldn’t see the store as they approached, but as soon as Richard stopped, Stan was on the ground. “I’ll circle around to the back.”

  Denise nodded, then approached the front door. “Dispatch, this is Pumper 2. We’ve arrived on site at 139 Main. No signs visible, can you relay more details?”

  Adam held himself back from racing through the front door, knowing there was a procedure to follow and the best way to help Isla would be to follow it.

  And he was damn glad his brother was on the radio frequency, too.

  “Pumper 2, EMT supervisor is en route to the store owner’s residence and will notify, provide transport. Over.”

  “Roger.” Denise nodded at Adam. “Owen’s on it.”

  From the back of the building, Stan checked in. “No sign of smoke or heat. Possible false alarm. Should we wait for the owner?”

  Denise looked at Adam. “Your call.”

  “Wait,” he said without hesitation.

  It was the right call, he knew, but he still watched the storefront intently for any sign of fire for the five minutes it took for Owen’s supervisor vehicle to pull up, lights on.

  Isla scrambled out of the passenger seat and ran to Adam, who led her to Denise at the front door.

  “I’ll open up, then we’ll take a look. If it’s safe for you to enter, Adam will let you in.” Denise unlocked, then stepped inside.

  Adam’s role was often this point of scene control at the front of a call, but it flexed differently when it was his wife he was holding back. She looked sleep-rumpled and terrified, but at a first glance inside, the store looked fine.

  First glances were often wrong.

  “All right, send her in,” Denise called out.

  As soon as Isla stepped into the kitchen, a string of swear words rip out of her mouth.

  “Dispatch this is Pumper 2. Broken water pipe has flooded the back of the retail location and shorted out the electrical panel. We’ll need…”

  Adam listened to the rest of the report, then Stan returned from the back of the store. “I’ve got this if you want to go in.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. Owen followed him inside, and Isla met them at the front counter. Her eyes were big, her face taut. “So the fridge and freezer are both out. The panel may need to be replaced, and it will take at least a day?” She glanced behind her to Denise. “Right?”

  The senior firefighter nodded. “I’d say. We’ll get the inspector here in a few hours and know better then. I’ve opened the back door to let the water pour out. Do you have a mop you can use to clear a path to the fridge?”

  “Yeah.” Isla disappeared again, muttering a string of filth under her breath that would make any army guy proud.

  Adam repeated Isla’s most colourful curse as he looked at Owen. At least they had the alarm. This way she knew about the fridge and freezer tonight, and it wasn’t a sad, soggy discovery in the morning. He pointed to his brother, who already had his phone out. “We need to find her twenty, maybe thirty cubic feet of freezer space. See who has room in their deep freeze. She tends to keep things in boxes, so if people could make room for a few…” He did the mental math. “Twelve by twelve by eighteen-inch boxes? That’s the size she usually has.”

  “On it.”

  “Maybe we need ten people who could take two of th
ose. Or five people who could take four. That would be better.”

  “Got it.”

  “And—”

  Owen said his name, cutting him off. “I hear you. We’ll help her.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What a mess.” Catie was the third person to arrive at the bakery and state the absolute obvious, but Isla just took a deep breath and nodded. It hadn’t seemed so bad when she’d first stepped into the back, but now that the foot of water by the back door had drained out, and battery-powered lights had been hung up, it was clear there was a lot of damage to the walls.

  The kitchen would need work before a health and safety inspector would allow her to prepare food in it. But that was getting way ahead of herself, because she had a frozen-food brigade to supervise first.

  It was midnight, and help kept rolling in.

  “Have you taken video yet for insurance?”

  Isla shook her head, and Catie pulled out her phone. “I can do that.”

  “Can you use my phone?” Isla cast her attention around. “It’s…”

  Adam appeared at her shoulder. He’d taken off his coat and helmet. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” She passed it to Catie, but her attention stayed on Adam. “This is a huge drama, isn’t it?”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “That’s not a problem.”

  “I don’t want—” The back door swung open, bringing with it an unwelcome gust of icy air.

  “We’re ready,” Owen said.

  Adam’s brother had been nothing but professional to her the entire time, but she wasn’t sure she agreed with Adam’s assessment that this massive drain on her new town was not a problem. It seemed like a major inconvenience, and Isla was just waiting for someone to snap at her. She really didn’t want it to be Owen. “Great, thank you.” She rushed over to the freezer, nearly slipping on a new slick of water that had come from somewhere. “I’ll pass the boxes out. They’re all clearly labelled.”

  Adam stopped her. “I can do this.”

  “It’s— I—“ She swallowed around a razor blade in her throat.

  “Let’s work together.” He held out his hands and gave her a warm look. As long as he was right by her side, she was fine. This would be…they’d be quick, and everyone could get to bed soon.

  When she slipped again, Adam firmly asked her in his best firefighter voice to move away from the freezer, so she swapped spots in the chain with Owen.

  That was when she realized just how many people had turned up, winter gear from head to toe, to take her supplies to their home freezers.

  Owen’s wife Kerry. Olivia Minelli, whose car was running because she had a sleeping baby inside it. “We were up anyway,” she said cheerfully. “Teething. I saw the text and was grateful for the excuse to go for a drive. Rafe will help me unload the boxes at home. We’ve got you, Isla.”

  Jake Foster and Tom Minelli both had trucks, and Tom took a double amount of boxes because there was extra space in the freezer at the park office, too.

  Catie joined the line of people accepting boxes, too, and tucked Isla’s phone into her coat pocket. “I took some video of the sexy firefighter unloading your freezer, too. For the Insta.”

  Isla’s laugh had a tinge of hysteria in it. When would she remember to post that? She’d have to try to make light of this. Spin it somehow. Not tonight, though. Her little Instagram account was the least important thing to her right now, although it was thoughtful of her friend to think of that.

  She ducked inside to grab the next box from Owen, and ran straight into Josh and Will.

  “All hands on deck,” the school principal said. “What can we do?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  By the time dawn rolled around, everyone had cleared out. Isla wasn’t allowed to turn the power or water back on for forty-eight hours and then another inspection, but she didn’t want to leave her bakery.

  Owen offered to drive her home, but she decided to wait until Adam was done with his shift. She sat down at the table under the window and listened to the hum of the electric heater in the kitchen, and the faint growl of the loaned generator powering it from just outside the back door.

  As far as catastrophes went, this was a manageable one. She hadn’t expected to make an insurance claim so soon after opening, but shit happened, and nothing had been so badly damaged that she wouldn’t be able to re-open in a week. Adam’s offer of securing a line of credit crawled around at the back of her mind, a gremlin she couldn’t quite evict no matter how hard she tried not to think about it.

  She wanted to find her own way through this. She needed to know she could do it on her own. But there was now a hollow hole in the middle of her chest where certainty and security had started to take up residence. Once upon a time, stressful events hadn’t been a problem for her. She’d done four tours overseas and sailed through all of them without any mental health issues.

  One awful marriage later, and she felt fragile as fuck over a bit of water damage.

  She’d started to think the one very happy marriage—deliberately constructed to protect her!—would counterbalance the toxic past, but here she sat feeling shattered, so apparently it wasn’t that easy.

  A knock at the front door startled her out of her thoughts. She got up, prepared to apologize for not being open, but on the other side of the glass she saw Bailey Patel, who looked sympathetic enough that Isla had no need to provide explanation.

  Apparently, word was spreading.

  She opened the door and stepped back. “You heard?”

  “I think everyone already awake in Pine Harbour has heard,” Bailey said regretfully. “Catie said you were waiting here for Adam. I thought I’d see if you needed any help. I heard about the freezer brigade last night, that’s great. But if you need help on the business side of things…”

  “I can’t think about your proposal right now, I’m sorry.”

  “No, of course not.” Bailey glanced around. “Can I speak freely?”

  Isla laughed weakly. “Sure.”

  “My parents have built a solid business they would love to hand over to me some day soon. I have all the work I could ever need with them. They want to send me to a fancy business school, for the prestige more than anything, although I’m sure I’d learn a few things. Bluntly, I’m not poking around in your business because I need to make money. I know we don’t know each other, but I’ve been following you on Instagram since the first time I came in here, and there’s something special about this shop. You are special.”

  Tears welled in Isla’s eyes, much to her horror. “Oh.”

  “Shit, did I say the wrong thing?”

  “No.” Isla swiped furiously at her face. “I think you might be the only person in town who notices my Instagram account, though. You and Adam, anyway. Last night Catie took some video for me to post and I just…can’t…” She threw herself back into the chair, tipped her head back so she was staring at the ceiling, and she howled in frustration. Then she swore a blue streak.

  When she righted her head, Bailey was sitting across from her. “Feel better?”

  “Hardly.” She paused. “A little. Yes.”

  “What needs to happen?”

  “Insurance claim. A plan to re-open. A plan to make that re-open profitable enough to cover the days we’re closed, and a new budget plan to cover the fact that my insurance premiums will go up.”

  A plan to not have to lean on her husband.

  “What are the first steps?”

  “I see what you’re doing.”

  Bailey gave her an innocent look. “What am I doing?”

  She was helping, and Isla was being suspicious for no good reason. She cocked her head to the side. “You really want to help me talk out my next steps?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Her joints protested as she slowly got up and walked back to her office. A few boxes on the floor had been damaged, but everything on the desk survived. She grabbed her clipboard, a couple of
sheets of blank paper, and a pen.

  Time to make a to-do list.

  When she returned, another person was at the door. Catie waved, and Bailey got up to answer it this time.

  Catie had three takeaway coffee cups in a paper tray, and Isla pointed her finger back and forth between the two of them. “This is starting to feel organized.”

  Instead of answering, Catie shoved a cup of coffee in her hand. “Decaf, so you can sleep in a bit. I come bearing a message from Frank.”

  Isla groaned. “It’s pie day. I forgot all about it.”

  Her friend gave her a funny look. “Well, yeah. But he doesn’t care about that. If he doesn’t have any pie, he just tells people to eat more fries. He wants you to know you can use his kitchen if you have any urgent baking to do.”

  “His pies are the only external order I have.” Isla took a long, restorative inhale, breathing in the perfect scent of diner coffee. “But I should probably think about taking him up on it, if only to make stuff to sell at the farmer’s market this weekend. If I can get a—”

  “You can,” Bailey interjected. “I know, you didn’t want to think about the plan until next year, but I’d done my preliminary research anyway. They haven’t been booking all the tables out over the winter, you’ve got a spot there if you need it.”

  Isla glanced at Catie. “Did you know about her scheme?”

  “Only in the broadest of strokes.”

  “Is that how the two of you wound up here at six in the morning?”

  “Who can sleep with all this excitement? We’d much rather be here so you can tell us all about your next steps.”

  “It’s really boring.” Isla stopped, hearing herself. Bailey was angling for a job, so her interest was at least related to that. But Catie had been here most of the night, and had a business of her own to open in a few hours. The only reason she would have come back with coffee, the only reason she would have reached out to Bailey and made all of this happen, was out of friendship. “You’re really interested, too?”