I wasn’t going to let him be alone. If he wanted to go for a run I’d go with him even if I still wasn’t feeling a hundred percent yet. Sam didn’t have a lot of time to talk to me but she had told me the horrible things that Sherriff had said.
As soon as Thomas was better I was calling my mom. If he had been a Sherriff for as long as he said, she would know him. And that meant she would know his past and there had to be something there that I could use.
Any friend of Beth’s had to be shady as fuck.
I filed those plans for later and attended to my husband-to-be. Thomas was usually in such a good mood I couldn’t bear to see him so upset.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
He shook his head. I couldn’t see what dark thoughts he had trapped behind those gorgeous coffee dark eyes of his but I would not sit idly by and let him beat himself up over something that he had no control over.
“Babe, talk to me.”
The word snapped his attention to me. It was the first time I ever used it on him and judging from the sudden attention it was one I would use more frequently.
Thomas hung his head and leaned into me. I fought down the thrill that trickled through my body, trying to remind myself this was not a sexual thing.
But, try telling that to my hormonal lady bits. I fought down the arousal, that wasn’t what Thomas needed right now. I wanted to be here for him, emotionally.
And then maybe later… we could work out his aggression.
“It’s something I didn’t think I would ever have to deal with again,” he said finally. His voice was so small and hurt. It broke my heart. “When he started asking about you, suggesting I hit you… I nearly lost it. Claire I almost hit him in front of dozens of witnesses.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I think he wanted me to do it. I nearly fell for such obvious bait. I don’t know what connection he has to Beth but it is pretty clear they are working together. I don’t have the slightest idea what I can do about it.”
I placed my palms on the sinfully delicious stubble on his either side of his face. I let it rasp against them a little, feeling the rush of arousal it awoke between my thighs. What is wrong with me? I took control of my runaway hormones and made him look me in the eye.
“There is nothing wrong with being angry for somebody saying such horrible things. You would never hurt me. I know it. You know it. Everybody in the whole fucking town knows it after that stunt you pulled. Even the Sherriff probably knows it. That was likely why he said it, to goad you into doing something stupid.”
“Which I nearly I did,” he said sourly.
“No. You had a close friend stop you. There is not a damn thing in the world wrong with having help, Thomas Weller and you of all people should understand that. It does not make you less in any way. In fact, it makes you more. We are a family.”
He lowered his eyes, gave a soft nod. I let go of his cheeks with a pang of loss. “What matters, is how we handle this going forward. If this is Beth’s play, she’s clearly scared. This is a direct attack against us and I don’t know how but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was aware of our business partners now.”
“How?”
I really wished I knew that. “I haven’t the faintest idea but if her family has its claws in the government of Sunrise Valley, she would have been able to see some of the submitted plans. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be terribly hard for somebody to put two-and-two together.”
“What’re we going to do?” There was such loss in his voice that I nearly choked up.
I had to be strong. For him. Throughout everything that I had been through, Thomas had been my rock. Now it was my turn. I would not let him down.
The problem was, I really had no idea how to get out of this predicament. I had figured Beth would be a problem but nothing this forward. I took her attacks to be sneakier and more underhanded.
This was something else entirely and if we didn’t do something about it she stood a very real chance of not only scaring off the investors but tanking any custom A Game of Scones continued to get.
Nobody wanted to stand in a line getting yelled at by a group of people and told they were not welcome.
“I do have an idea though, it is going to sound horrible and I know you will hate it but hear me out, okay?”
Thomas gave me a wary nod.
“I think you should give the protesters pastries. Go out there and get them something to eat. Even if they throw it away or give it to Beth. Show them that you can be kind in the face of their aggression.”
I had no doubt in my mind that the Sherriff was likely working to help Beth out. She probably didn’t even have a protesting permit but with the deck stacked against us, the only thing we had was public opinion.
“How are you going to beat this headline, ‘Hunky baker gives pastries to angry protestors in a gesture of goodwill’?” I said with a smirk. “Even if they don’t feel ashamed for what they’re doing, it’ll give us some good PR.”
“Maybe,” said Thomas, working his jaw angrily. “I hate feeling like this. Like no matter what I do, I’ll lose. If I go after her I wouldn’t put it past the Sherriff to trump up some sort of charge against me. If I do nothing she gets her way and can bully me and ‘killing her with kindness’ only sounds good if you get rid of the last three words.”
I tried not to laugh at that, failed a little with a snort but managed to keep my face serious. “Things get messy sometimes. But you are not alone. This is my fight, as well as my Mom’s, Jemma’s and Sam’s. We are all here for you.”
He wrapped his big arms around me and squeezed. I let out a breathy sigh, doing the same to him with what recovering strength I had. I loved his hugs. Always had.
“Thank you, Claire. I don’t know what’ll happen in the future but I am so happy to have you in my life. I love you.”
I pulled back and nibbled his stubbly chin. “I love you too. Do you want to hang out here for the rest of the day? Sam said she wouldn’t mind staying a bit longer today to cover the money drop and close up.”
I knew the answer he would give me before it was out of his lips. Thomas was not a quitter, not the type of person that would back down from a fight no matter how big.
“No, I’m going back and I’ll give your plan a try no matter how much I hate it. Maybe I’ll think of something in the meantime that can be a little more direct.”
I gave him a long, loving kiss. Slow and sweet. My heart raced. And I saw myself reflected in the dark pools of his eyes when I pulled away. “You are an amazing man, Thomas Weller. Don’t you ever forget that.”
He grinned and got up off the couch. “How can I when you keep reminding me?” As he walked out of the apartment I turned to watch him go. Okay, I stared at his magnificent ass in those tight jeans. But I also noticed he had his shoulders squared away and head held high.
A far cry different than when I pulled him into the apartment.
You did a pretty good job turning things around for him.
Damn right I did.
Now all I had to do was find something on Beth to break this stupid protest and the flimsy stand it was built on. I knew there was something there and I still had that box of property documents to sift through.
So I started there.
19
Thomas
Gavin looked surprised to see me when I came back, ready to work. I gave him a bracing smile and looked over the work he’d been doing. The twists looked great. He was picking up things faster and faster.
“That’s really great, Gavin. Good job. I’m impressed you managed it so soon. It took me ages to get it right my first time.”
Gavin ducked his head but I could see his smile at the praise. “Thanks, Mister Weller but it’s only because you showed me a few tricks to make it easier.”
“What’d we talk about when I hired you?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry, Thomas.”
I grinned a bit. “That’s better. We need about five dozen o
rders of those if you’re feeling up to it.”
“I’m on it!”
Sam burst into the back looking furious. Her usually soft blue eyes glittered like jagged ice. “What’re you doing back here? I thought you were going home!”
I did my best to smile at her, going over to the baskets of sorted goods and picking out a medley of the most popular things. Some scones, a few donuts, mostly fall flavors that were selling really well.
“I’ve decided that I’m not going to get mad and fight them on this. If Beth has managed to convince half a dozen people to protest then I can convince them I’m not the bad guy.” I hefted up the wicker basket stacked with pastries and paused at the scones. “Do you think I should add lemon-blueberry or truffle chocolate to this gift basket?”
“Have you lost your god damned mind?” Sam marched up to me and put her hand to my forehead. “No, you don’t have a fever. Do you hear yourself? You’re going to give away food, and not even to the people who are waiting to buy some?”
I shook my head. “I’m going to give the protestors some, and the rest I’ll hand out to those waiting in line as a thank you for their patience with a fresh cup of coffee.”
Sam stared at me the entire time, dumbfounded. Maybe I had lost my mind but I was willing to give it a try. It was better than being angry.
So, I went out into the November autumn chill of late afternoon. It was five o’clock by then and the sun was already skirting the rim of the mountains to the west throwing golden light down Main Street.
It was my favorite time of day, one of them anyway. I put on my most pleasant smile and marched out to the protestors. Beth immediately started when she saw me and redoubled her efforts.
The blare of the megaphone hurt my ears but I pushed through it. A few burly looking thuggish men stepped up in front of her to block my way. I smiled at them. “Pastry?”
They shared a confused look. One of them eyed me like I was some sort of spy.
“I said, would either of you like a pastry? Maybe a donut?” I hiked my thumb over my shoulder. “I also make a good cup of coffee.”
“Yar right, pal.” His accent didn’t seem to be from around here. “We ain’t so easily bought.”
I shrugged. “This isn’t a bribe.” I looked at the six or seven people plus Beth. “How long have you been out here protesting? An hour or so and at dinner time? That’s rough man. Listen, do what you want but these are for you guys if you want.” I pressed the linen-covered basket into his arms.
“I’ll bring out some coffee in a bit. If you don’t want that either that is entirely up to you. No strings attached, though. And it’s damn good coffee.”
With that I turned my back and headed inside the shop only to return a few minutes later laden with another basket of - if I was being honest - better quality treats.
Those I handed out to every guest in line that wanted one. I thanked each of them for putting up with the locals and urged them not to be upset at them. “They’re misguided and are afraid of change. They don’t mean any harm and they’re just scared of things being different. Here have a scone.”
On and on I went down the line. I had to go back in once to refill the basket. A few people wanted a picture with me. I never really understood why but I was happy to oblige.
I finally got to the end of the line and returned to the shop to pour eight black coffees. I balanced them all in four carrying cases for cups made out of recycled paper and took them out to the protestors.
I had, quite honestly, expected them to still be chanting and angry. The basket thrown to pieces on the floor and Main Street brutally littered with smashed pastries.
What I saw instead nearly made me laugh with victory. Beth stood alone yelling and chanting. The others around her milled about, all huddled up against the basket I had given them. They were arguing over what remained.
When they saw me with coffee they couldn’t hide the light in their eyes. I don’t know how tiring protesting was but I imagine that standing in the street and yelling for hours would be thirsty work. And once they got all that yelling out they would be hungry and drained.
Not to mention, without any show of force against them they were effectively yelling at a brick wall. It did nothing to feed the anger or resentment they had.
In fact, Claire’s idea seemed to be the equivalent of dumping water on the fire. They looked around sheepishly, suddenly ashamed of being there. A few still looked resentful but it was subdued.
“This guy must be some kind of nut,” said one of the rotund men standing around the basket. “We yell and hurl insults at him and he gives us shit. Who does that?”
“Somebody who doesn’t blame you for being mad or scared,” I piped up. “Here’s the coffee I promised. I don’t really have time to take everybody’s order so I hope you like it black.”
The drinks were relieved from me and passed out. I even made one for Beth.
At the very least she would have to stop yelling in order to drink it. There was absolutely no chance that she would be dissuaded but I could buy a few minutes of peace.
Peace. Protesting may not be unlawful but a noise complaint would mean she’d have to at least stop with the megaphone. Yeah, but the Sherriff isn’t going to be doing you any favors.
I waved goodbye to the protestors and headed into the bakery. I took out my phone to call everybody who lived and worked near Main Street. The list wasn’t long but if they all could hear the megaphone - which wouldn’t be hard - each of them could make a noise complaint.
The Sherriff would be forced to do something about it, all without being able to pin it on me.
Not quite the kindness that Claire had in mind but it was direct enough that I felt satisfied in my choice of action.
“Hey Miss Robbins, I have a favor to ask. Could you open up your window? That’s okay, I’ll wait.” A moment passed and then she got back on the line. I could actually hear Beth’s megaphone louder over the phone than I could in the back of the bakery. “Can you hear that? Good, here’s what I’d like to you do…”
20
Claire
“So what’re we doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked Thomas over breakfast. The last couple of weeks were exhausting. Beth dogged us at every turn trying to turn the town against us.
It wasn’t working as well as she likely hoped but it was still bad enough that Thomas had a perpetual set of worry lines on his forehead.
In a bid for normalcy, I had begun helping Thomas set up a large Thanksgiving meal in the Town Hall for everybody in town to attend. And a smaller one that we’d have the next day at home, just the family.
“Turkey with stuffing, pumpkin, apple, sweet potato, and cherry pie with some apple cobbler. Jonas is donating the meat and obviously, I’m covering most of the bread, rolls, pastries, etcetera. We still need somebody to supply the drinks and I was thinking of getting Alice to make some Thanksgiving-inspired ice cream.”
“That sounds really good!” My stomach rumbled boisterously blind to the fact that I was currently eating. I could hardly wait for Thanksgiving dinner. “How’s the other thing going?”
While Thomas thought it was exhausting, giving the protestors food and coffee had an effect.
“I think she’s on her fifth or sixth set of protestors by now,” he said wearily.
Every so often the small rabble of protestors she managed to convince to go along with her rhetoric would quit on her. Thomas’ kindness and constant lack of engagement with their narrative made it hard to keep people angry.
I mean, how could you protest the guy giving you free, delicious food and coffee? The guy who made sure you weren’t too cold when you stayed out all day with signs that said horrible things about him and his business?
Eventually, it would wear them down and the crowd would dwindle from about a dozen or so to one or two. A few days later Beth would bolster her numbers. I was sure she was paying them and that they were coming from out of state.
As far as I
was concerned, she could be putting out ads on craigslist and hiring struggling actors to join her. In the end, it didn’t matter. Even if we proved it I doubted it would have a dramatic impact.
To make matters worse, the Sherriff was constantly harassing us. If either of us went a single mile over the speed limit, we’d get pulled over. Thomas had four tickets already and now drove like a little old woman and I did not blame him.
Dawson said he would help get them thrown out but it was the hassle of it all. The constant, grating annoyance of having to deal with people who had it out for us. It made me angry and depressed in equal measure. I knew Thomas felt powerless to do anything about it and that only made it worse for him.
The only silver lining was that Beth had stopped using a megaphone over the numerous noise complaints Thomas had gotten several people to file. It was the only good news we had in as many weeks.
“I better get back to it.” Thomas rose, came around the table to give me a kiss and a hug. He was out of the door tying his apron on before I could catch my breath.
I didn’t have any idea what had gotten into me lately but I was so hormonal and feisty. It was hard not to jump on him as soon as he came home, even when I knew how tired and drained he’d be.
There was so much stress everywhere and it did nothing to kill my suddenly insatiable sex drive like it normally would.
In order to distract myself, I went back to the property records I had gone over the last weeks. There was something there I was missing, some key that would undo all this mess if only I could see it.
I was about an hour or two into the files, revisiting things I’ve read about over and over again, wondering what I was missing and feeling slightly manic about the whole thing when there was a knock at the door.
When I opened the door I had half-expected Jemma. She’d been checking up on me lately. I don’t know why.
What I got, was Sam and my mom. Sam marched in, seemed to pull Mom along and I shut the door behind them. She swirled around and pointed at me. “Tell her what you told me.”
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