Rob glanced down at the money in his hand. “Is this coming from my paycheck?”
“No, it’s from me to you, to make sure you can take care of your family. But I expect you to take care of your family, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. What time do you come? I don’t want to keep you waiting tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here at seven.”
“See you then.”
After Rob left, Quinn took a walk around the property, inspecting the public areas of the tree farm, from the trees in the stands, to the wreaths stacked on a wooden table, to the big barn overflowing with Christmas lights and decorations. The barn was warm and Christmas music was playing. There was a register at one end and a coffee cart at the other. Quinn lifted one of the big coffee thermoses. It was heavy and sloshed with liquid. Opening the lid steam rose. Hot coffee. Exactly what he needed.
Quinn poured himself a cup, added some sugar and a splash of milk before taking a second walk around the property, studying the pricing on the ornaments and holiday decorations before checking on the register to see how it worked. Petty cash was in the register’s till. An iPhone sat next to the register with a little square attached for credit card purchases. He glanced around to see if there was a book for record keeping, or a computer for QuickBooks. He couldn’t find one and then thought he’d keep track the old-fashioned way—he’d write each purchase down, and how it was paid for and once Sawyer and Jenna were back, they could sort it out the way they wanted.
Wheels crunched gravel outside and Quinn stepped from the barn with his coffee. He grinned as he saw it was Rory. “What are you doing here?”
“McKenna called me. She thought you might need a hand,” Rory said, buttoning up his sheepskin coat and tugging on work gloves.
“There’s no one here yet.”
“Not right now. But trust me, it’s going to get busy.”
“Not complaining. It’s great to have you here.”
“No, Quinn. It’s great to have you here.”
When the first customer arrived a half hour later, Quinn and Rory had divided the labor. For the first part of the morning, Rory was going to bale and load the tree while Quinn rang up purchases, and then they’d switch for the next couple of hours. The system worked, and the day passed quickly. Sadie brought them lunch and stayed to eat with them. She took a peek into the barn to see what decorations they were selling, and then, noticing that coffee was out, she headed into the Gallagher’s house to make fresh coffee for the afternoon and returned to work.
By late afternoon traffic picked up significantly. Kids were out of school and families were coming together after work. McKenna’s husband, Trey, joined them, and Sadie returned to work the cash register so the guys could all help customers with trees.
Quinn couldn’t remember when he’d last enjoyed himself so much. He knew many of the families who stopped in, and even more people recognized him, with quite a few asking for autographs or pictures. He was happy to oblige, and then got the idea that maybe everyone should sign a card for Sawyer, sharing their best wishes.
By five it was dark, and Trey laid a fire in the big fire pit before getting back to work wrapping and anchoring trees onto the waiting line of trucks and cars.
McKenna arrived with the kids and boxes of pizzas. She found the sound system’s control and turned on the speakers for the outdoors so Christmas carols played inside the barn and wafted over the tree lot, too.
Quinn hummed along with “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” feeling festive. He liked having his whole family here with him. The only person missing was Charity. And just thinking that thought made him realize how serious he was becoming about her. That was a problem. She wasn’t ready for him to have strong feelings. She wasn’t ready for anything but friendship. But he’d promised her he’d be there for her, and he would be.
Even if it meant keeping his distance from the one person he wanted to see most.
Chapter Six
Charity spent the rest of the day on pins and needles, hoping—expecting—to hear from Quinn. She kept an eye on her phone, even when she went on her lunch and breaks, just in case he texted or called, but he didn’t. She told herself he was probably really busy out at the Gallagher Tree Farm, but she kept thinking he might ask her to come out, and do something like Sadie had. This was one of those times that it was hard living in a small town because Charity knew who was out at the tree farm pitching in, and she hadn’t been invited. Maybe Sadie wasn’t invited, but as Quinn’s sister-in-law she could show up when she wanted and stay for as long as she pleased.
Charity drove home after work, and as she made dinner for her parents and herself, she thought she’d happily do a stint at the register. She could restock shelves. Brew coffee, make cookies, basically anything. She’d do it for the Gallaghers—everyone was willing to support the Gallaghers—but her anxiousness was due to Quinn, and not hearing from him.
Why hadn’t he sent her at least one text? Why not say that he’d stayed? Did he think she didn’t care, or was he just so busy he forgot about her?
She went to bed feeling rather wistful and woke up even more blue when she discovered still nothing from him. It would have been different if he’d returned to Seattle. She honestly didn’t expect to hear much from him once he was back in the Pacific Northwest, but for goodness’ sake, he was just down Highway 89. A twenty-minute drive from town!
Once at work, she sent Amanda a text, asking if she’d heard anything about Jenna Gallagher. Had the contractions stopped? Would Jenna and Sawyer be coming home today?
Amanda promised to get info and let Charity know, and then added slyly in a second text, “You know Quinn is out there working. Maybe you should go pick out a tree?”
Charity glared at her phone and didn’t answer. She settled down to work, and forced herself to ignore her phone and succeeded for nearly an hour when a text popped in from Amanda. “Just talked to Jenna. She and Sawyer are going home later today. I told Jenna you’re bringing a lasagna and garlic bread for dinner. She said Sawyer would be excited. He can’t stand hospital food.”
Charity read the message a second time before answering. “You’re a weasel.”
Amanda replied. “You want to see Quinn. I’ve given you the opportunity. You can thank me with details later tonight.”
Charity smiled and put her phone away even as Greg appeared in his doorway.
“You’re always on that,” he said. “Don’t you have any work to do?”
“I’m checking on the Gallaghers.”
“If that’s what you say.”
There was no point in engaging him. Charity returned to the property listing she’d been filling out for Sam. But Greg didn’t like being ignored. He crossed to her desk, and cleared off a corner so he could lean on it. “And to think I once thought you were so sweet,” he said bitterly. “But you’re not. You’re cold. You’re an ice cube—”
“Right,” she said, looking up and giving him a dazzling smile. “I am an ice cube. I’m frigid. Frozen. Brutally cold. Now, is there something you want from me, or are you just going to waste both of our time?”
“I’m not dating Meghan anymore.”
She just kept typing.
“It was a mistake,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology.” She gave him a tight smile. “Now can you go back to your office and find something to do, because I have plenty.”
He said something unpleasant under his breath and huffed his way back to his office. Charity watched him a moment and then refused to give him another second of her attention. Before the Wyoming trip she might have dissolved into tears, or at least, felt wounded, but the five days at Little Teton had given her a chance to evaluate her heart. Her heart might have been bruised, but meeting Quinn gave her hope. Nice guys were out there. And nice guys did like her. And nice guys kissed soooo much better than lame guys.
Her hands hovered over the keyboard as she remembered Quinn?
?s kiss. It had been amazing. A little shiver raced through her as she relived the lovely warmth and sensation. She’d left for Wyoming beat-up, and yet she returned to Marietta with energy and excitement and strength.