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“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.”
