by Jane Porter
“TJ’s smart, and I don’t know if you know this, but he’s got an arm. You should have seen that snowball. He pegged me from twenty yards away.”
They carried dinner up to the Gallaghers’ log cabin house. Quinn knocked on the door before opening it. “It’s Quinn and Charity,” he called. “Charity has brought you dinner.”
“Come in,” Jenna called back. “I’m on the couch. Sawyer is, too. I’m afraid if I get up, I might bump him.”
“Stay put,” Charity said as they entered the house. “I’ll dish you up each a big plate, how’s that?”
“What do you have?” Sawyer asked, pushing himself up a bit.
“Rocco’s lasagna and some of their garlic bread.”
“The cheesy kind?” Jenna asked hopefully.
“The only kind I like,” Charity answered. “What do you two want to drink? Milk, water, something else?”
“We both already have water,” Jenna answered. “So just food would be fantastic.” She nodded at the large take-out container. “And please make up a plate for Quinn. He needs to eat. He worked through lunch without a break.”
“It was busy today,” Quinn said, opening kitchen cabinet doors looking for plates. He found them and pulled out four. “I’m not eating without you,” he said quietly to Charity, “so dish up four servings.”
“I can’t do that,” Charity protested. “I brought this food for Jenna and Sawyer. She can’t cook right now.”
“Open the refrigerator,” he said.
She did. The entire fridge was filled with trays and casserole dishes covered in aluminum foil. “Food has been arriving all day,” he added. “There must be at least four lasagnas in there.”
“Oh no!” Charity peeled back a couple foil coverings. A crushed chip tuna casserole. Beef stew something. Chicken pot pie. Spaghetti and meatballs. She carefully recovered all the dishes and closed the refrigerator door. “There are no lasagnas,” she said.
“The point is, there’s a lot of food. Jenna and Sawyer would want you to eat.” He gave her a crooked smile. “And maybe it’s selfish, but I could use your company.”
Her own lips curved in a responding smile. “I suppose I can spare you a half hour. I wish I could give you more, but I’m really popular, wildly in demand.”
He laughed his deep, rumbly sexy laugh. The one that made her heart skip a beat and Charity wanted to be in his arms again. “I’ll dish them up in here, and then bring plates out to the fire pit. But you better go put your jacket on. No jacket, no dinner.”
Charity tossed the salad with Rocco’s house dressing, dished huge squares of still-steaming lasagna, and added slices of cheesy garlic bread to Jenna and Sawyer’s plates before carrying them into the family room and getting them settled to eat.
“I feel guilty being fussed over,” Jenna confessed.
“Don’t,” Charity answered. “Just rest. I’m going to go eat with Quinn outside but I’ll return to check on you and see if you need anything else. If not, I’ll do the dishes and sneak out of here.”
Sitting on fallen logs by the fire, Charity watched Quinn eat. He ate with fierce concentration at first. Jenna was right. He was hungry. Charity picked at her lasagna and devoured one of the garlic bread slices on her plate feeling ridiculously happy.
“You know,” she said after a moment, “I still think this is crazy. You, me, Little Teton, and now here. This is the last thing I expected. It’s just too coincidental that we’re both from the same town.”
“I agree.” He looked up at her. “I think there was some divine intervention somewhere. I think we were supposed to meet.”
“Ha!”
“You don’t think so?” he replied, an eyebrow lifting.
Charity felt a little shiver race through her and she glanced at Quinn from beneath her lashes. “You really think we were supposed to meet?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Maybe God knew we needed each other.”
She swallowed hard, hating the aching lump in her throat, the lump matching the weight in her chest. “Why didn’t I recognize you, Quinn? Everyone in town recognizes you.”
“You don’t like sports. You don’t follow sports.”
“You must have cringed when I said that in Wyoming.”
“I loved it. It was rather… freeing. It’s nice to be liked for who you are and not what you do.”
She thought about this for a moment. “Do you get a lot of that?”
“There are those who want the lifestyle of being a ball player’s girlfriend or wife.”
“Is there a lifestyle?”
“Maybe culture is the better word. There is some prestige to it, and there’s money. Successful, professional athletes can do very well financially.”
“I don’t really know anything about that, but honestly, I don’t care either.”
“I know.” He smiled, blue eyes glinting. “And why are you getting mad?”
“I’m not mad. I’m more annoyed with myself than anything. I should have recognized you. It’s just… embarrassing. Tricia knew who you were the moment you walked into the travel agency. Sam knew—”
“Sam and I used to get into fist fights. He should know.”
She laughed. “Did you really?”
“He was such a pompous little—” Quinn broke off, lifted a hand. “He’s grown up. He’s changed. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Why would you fight?”
“His family was rich. Mine wasn’t.”
“Oh.”
He scooped up sauce with his crust of bread. “I told you we had more in common than just Marietta.”
“True.” She shot him a teasing side glance. “We have Sam.”
Quinn laughed, the deep husky laugh she adored. “You make me laugh,” he said.
“No, you make me laugh, although to be fair, I wasn’t laughing in Little Teton when you nearly got us kicked out of the pool.”
“You were laughing and we didn’t get kicked out.”
“We almost did, and I think we would have if I didn’t apologize for you.”
“I was simply trying to help. You said it wasn’t a very hot hot tub. I was just trying to please you by turning up the heat.”
“Even though the sign said don’t touch the controls?”
Quinn shrugged. “I sometimes take issue with rules, especially if the rules don’t make sense.”
“Whereas I tend to be a rule follower. I don’t like getting in trouble.”
“You were so apologetic, when Phil should have apologized to you for being so ridiculously uptight.”
“It was his job.”
“Now he’s the one who needs a sense of humor.”
“I won’t argue with you on that.”
“Incidentally, I spoke to Peter about the not hot enough hot tub, and as it turns out, the heater was broken, so it all ended up well.”
“Did you say anything to him about Phil?”
“I did.”
She shot him a worried glance. “What did you say?”
“That Phil was a very loyal employee, and that was a positive, but he could maybe use a refresher course on customer relations and how to make customers feel valued and wanted.”
“How did Peter respond?”
“He agreed that it was probably a good idea to give all employees a crash course in customer service.”
She was silent a moment. “I hope the Paces can make it work. It’s a really nice place. I thought it was the perfect little ski town.”
“I agree.”
“Do you… would you… ever consider helping him out?”
“What do you mean?”
She set her plate down and folded her hands in her lap. “You said Peter was a friend.”
“Yes.”
“Would you help him… financially… if he needed it? Or is that just too much money for you to lend him?”
Quinn reached out to push strands of hair back from her face. “I won’t let hi
m lose everything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It can take businesses a while to make a profit. Five years.”
“I won’t loan more than I can afford to lose,” he answered.
“I don’t want you to lose anything. I’d structure the loan so you could be a business partner, that way he could benefit from your success and experience.”
His lips curved. Creases fanned from his eyes. “Maybe you’re the one who should be my business partner. You have a clever head on your shoulders.”
“I like business,” she said shyly, not certain how he’d react to that. “I haven’t ever taken business classes, but I think figuring out how to make a business succeed is interesting, and creative.”
“So what is keeping you from starting your own business? Is it the startup costs? The need for space? What’s holding you back?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Those are good questions because I have so many sketches and ideas but I’m just kind of…stuck.”
“Then maybe you need to figure out why you’re stuck, and don’t tell me it’s because you’re queen of bad decisions. The truth is, you’re very smart and you have really good ideas. Maybe it’s time you start trusting yourself more.” He glanced at his watch and then leaned toward her, and kissed her forehead. “I better get back to work.”
Charity watched him walk away, grateful for his faith in her. Quinn had a way of making her feel like she could do anything. Maybe one day she could.
He was right, too. She did need to get ‘unstuck’ but how was she to do that? That was the part she didn’t yet know.
Carrying the plates back into the kitchen, she discovered Jenna seated at the little table in the kitchen. “What are you doing?” Charity scolded, rinsing the plates and loading the dishwasher. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I’m going to bed right after you leave, but I wanted to talk to you about something, and I didn’t want Sawyer to hear.”
Charity finished with the dishes and joined Jenna at the table. “Is everything okay?”
“I think so, but I’m worried, and I hate to dump this on you, but since you’re on the tree auction committee I thought you could give me advice.”
“I’ll try.”
Jenna toyed with the salt shaker on the table. “We’d hoped that by sponsoring this year’s tree auction, Gallagher Tree Farms would get some good exposure, but now with everything that’s happened to Sawyer, we’re in over our heads and I don’t know how to fulfill what we’ve promised to do. I feel terrible about it.”
“What part is worrying you? The financial side?”
“No. Cutting the check was the easy part, and the money went out of our account months ago. It’s the rest of it… the table we were supposed to host as the gold sponsor and the big tree we promised to decorate and donate. Last February when they asked us to be the gold sponsor, we didn’t know I would be pregnant, and we certainly didn’t anticipate Sawyer being hurt. Again.” She shook her head. “Sawyer is trying to act like it’s not bothering him, but he’s upset. He feels like he’s let everyone down.”
“He hasn’t let anyone down. You guys cut that big check months ago and you’ve been great about getting the word out with flyers next to your cash register. We’ve nearly sold the event out. We just had a meeting yesterday and we’re in really good shape.”
“But we can’t go now, and we’re supposed to host our table and do the tree, impossible when I’m stuck on bedrest.”
“That’s not a problem. I’ve got you covered. Hand me your to-do list, big and small, and whatever still needs to be done, I’ll do.”
“You’ll host our table?”
“If that’s what you and Sawyer want.”
“What about our tree? We haven’t even started that because Sawyer and I couldn’t agree on a theme.” She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe if you have enough trees already for the auction, the committee would be okay scrapping ours?”
Charity glanced out the kitchen window, her gaze taking in the brightly lit barn and the crackling fire and the tall, freshly cut trees in their stands. “No,” she said softly. She looked at Jenna. “There’s no way we can scrap yours. You’re the gold sponsor. We have to have a Gallagher tree represented. The whole point of you underwriting the auction was to get your name front and center.”
“I don’t have it in me to make it happen.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll do it for you.”
A guilty expression crossed Jenna’s face. “Before you get too excited, there’s something you should know. Sawyer has asked Quinn to help, too, in the event you offered—because he said you would offer—but Sawyer didn’t think it was fair for you to get stuck with all the work.” Jenna hesitated, and then added in a rush, “And Quinn said yes.”
“I have no problem with Quinn,” Charity answered, glancing out the window again and searching for him among the trees and customers. He was placing a tree in the baler, getting it wrapped for transport home and just watching him made her heart beat a little faster. She kept telling herself she just wanted to be friends, but her feelings for him were far from platonic. “I’ll talk to him on my way out.”
Quinn broke away from the customers when he spotted her heading for her car. “Hope you weren’t leaving without saying goodbye,” he said.
“You looked busy,” she answered.
“Never too busy to say goodbye to a friend.”
A friend. Suddenly Charity found the word friend really irritating. She crossed her arms over her chest, mood sour and she didn’t even know why. “Jenna wanted me to talk to you about decorating a tree for the tree auction, although it sounds as if you and Sawyer already have it handled.”
“We don’t have it handled. In fact, I only agreed to do it if you would partner with me. I’ve never done anything like this but you’re artistic and creative and I thought you’d have great ideas.”
Quinn’s words somewhat mollified her. “Do you have suggestions for a theme?”
“Just one. You probably have a better one. Sawyer has some sports memorabilia from his dad and he thought he could donate it to decorate the tree, giving the tree a sports theme.” Quinn’s forehead wrinkled. “Specifically baseball.”
“Baseball,” Charity repeated slowly.
Quinn looked almost embarrassed. “Sawyer has some relatively valuable cards and a couple signed balls and he thought people around here would like them, and that by donating them, the tree would raise more money.”
Charity couldn’t figure out why Quinn seemed almost shy and then she got it. “Are they your baseball cards?”
He nodded. “It was Sawyer’s dad’s collection, and Sawyer has been storing it in the attic but I think they want to clear out the attic and I could add to it. I can reach out to the Mariner’s front office and ask for some things from the store and get them overnighted. Alice has some of my things, too, in her closet, and she could get them in the mail. But only if you think it’s a good idea—”
“I do,” she interrupted. “I think this it’s pretty perfect, because the best trees are personal. And what’s more personal than Quinn Douglas, Marietta’s Mr. Baseball, donating a baseball tree?”
He grimaced. “Please don’t call me Mr. Baseball. It reminds me too much of how Leo Sterling, Alice’s dad, would introduce me to people. It always made my skin crawl. That’s not who I am. Here, I’m just Quinn Douglas.”
Something in his expression checked her flippant response. He was serious. “I think we have a theme,” she said.
“I don’t know how to pull it together, though.”
“Leave that to me. I’ve got some ideas. How about I bring us some dinner tomorrow night and show you what I’m thinking?”
“I like the sound of that.”
Chapter Seven
It had only been one day since Sawyer returned from the hospital but he insisted on taking up watch outside by the fire pit where he could monitor the trees and the flow in and o
ut of the barn. Jenna wasn’t happy with Sawyer outside, and chose to stay close to his side in a folding chair. Neither of them were smiling, though. Quinn could see the stress in Jenna’s face. Something was up but they weren’t talking, not to him, or each other.
At noon, when Jenna went into the house for a thicker coat, Quinn headed over to Sawyer. “She’s not feeling well, is she?” Quinn asked.
Sawyer’s jaw tightened. He glanced toward the house where Jenna had gone. “She needs to be inside, feet up. But she’s stubborn and refuses to leave me out here.”
“Then why are you out here?”
“You know why.”
“Sawyer, look at this place. We have so much help. It seems as if everyone has signed up for a shift—including Carson Scott from Scott Family Christmas Tree Farm. They all want to pitch in and help. Accept the help. Let us make it easier for you two, because as excited as we are about the baby coming, the baby needs to stay put.”
Sawyer rubbed the dark bristles on his jaw. “It’s not that I don’t want the help, but I’m worried about having a lot of strangers on the property. I know they mean well, but the work can be dangerous, look at me. I’ve been hurt doing this twice now. I’m not comfortable with just anyone baling the trees, or using the chainsaw—”
“I’m going to be here every day, and Rory has signed up to help me, too. We can do this. We won’t let you down. And should I have questions, I know where to find you. I’m not afraid to ask for advice or input.”
“I can’t ask you to be here every day for the next three weeks.”
“Maybe you can’t, but I’m offering my help. I’m telling you I want to do this. And I’m going to show up. Every morning you can look out your window and see my truck pulling in at seven a.m., and I’ll stay until you close. And if you need me to stay later because you’re extra busy one night, I’m your man. I like a good long game.” Quinn cracked a small smile. “Come on. Put me in, coach.”
“I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. I owe you. Just as I owe everyone here in Marietta for taking such good care of us after our folks died. Marietta has always been here for us, and it’s my turn to give back.”
