“Not today.”
“I talked to Tucker again today. He said they definitely have a spot for you right now, but you have to give an answer by March first. The new recruits are starting their training on April first, and he can’t hold a spot for you past that. He is concerned about your legs, though.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing.” He really did. He just wished he felt a calling to the smoke jumpers. When he thought about the position, he felt…nothing. No tug at his heart. A tug at his ego, maybe. Who wouldn’t want to be a hero, fighting fires in the wilderness with some of the strongest men he knew? “I’m sure I’m ready for it.”
But Sammy had always loved Deep Haven, had dreamed of building his life here, not in some wilderness.
He shook off the thought. “But I’m here for something else. I was over at Fox Bakery. Robin needs a new sink cabinet and some flooring. Any chance you can hook me up with that?”
“I have some things I can show you. Most of the stuff we stock is for homes, but I have a few things that can be used in commercial applications as well. I’m almost done for the day. Want to walk out to the showroom?”
“Lead the way.”
Seth showed Sammy several shades of wood flooring, and Sammy picked one that closely matched the bakery’s existing floor. “I don’t want her to have to replace the whole thing.”
“I think we have a few floor-model cabinets that could work, but you may be better off with a custom build, especially if you’re trying to meet code. Custom builds can be pricey, though. Are you sure she wants to pay for that?”
“Don’t worry about the money.” Sammy felt good about making that promise.
After all, he knew someone who had money to spare.
five
If this cake idea was going to pay the bills, she needed more clients.
A few days later, Robin sat at a table in the dining room of the bakery and jotted down some ideas. In the days since the plumber had delivered the bad news, she’d been working through the accounts and calculating how long before she could afford to pay for the new pipes. She had made two dozen signature cupcakes and topped them with a stylized fox made from auburn icing. She planned to give one away with every order. Maybe if people got a taste of the product, they would be interested in making larger orders.
If she could fill three large orders, she could probably pay off the plumbing bill early.
Bella Hudson, her high-school assistant, came around the counter. “You should head home. I can lock up tonight.”
“Thank you.” Robin shuffled her papers back into order. “I think I’ll take you up on that.” She stood and gathered her belongings, intent on tucking them into the tiny cubby in the kitchen that masqueraded as an office.
“These cupcakes with the basketball on them are really cute,” Bella commented as she passed by. “You should sell them at the game on Friday. I know the boosters will have a concessions booth again. We have a home game against one of our rivals. Should be a good fan turnout.”
Robin tucked her notebook into the crook of her arm. “Thanks for the idea. Is Principal Chase still over there?”
“Yes.” The teen smirked. “I think she will die at her desk.”
“Just my luck, I’ve always been a favorite of hers.” Robin paused by the bakery phone mounted on the wall behind the cash register. She looked up the school’s phone number and dialed. “It’s ringing,” she mouthed to Bella, who shot her a thumbs-up.
“Hello, Deep Haven High,” the disembodied voice on the other end said.
“Hi, can I speak to Principal Chase?”
“Sure, let me transfer you.”
Robin heard a click and then harp music. She twined her finger in the spiral of the phone cord. Before Mrs. Chase answered, the bakery’s front door opened, and Sammy Johnson walked in with an armload of lumber. What in the world?
Robin realized that Principal Chase had been speaking to her for a few moments. “Oh! Sorry, Principal Chase. This is Robin Fox. Maybe you remember me?”
The principal’s sharp tone softened. “Robin! Of course I remember. I think you’re old enough now to call me by my first name.” Robin heard the smile in her old principal’s voice. “So good to hear from you. I heard you were back in town. Holding down the fort for your grandparents, right?”
“Something like that.”
Sammy walked through the room and behind the counter. She flattened herself against the wall as he brushed past with his overflowing armload. “What was that? Sorry.” Sheesh. If she didn’t pay attention, Mrs. Chase—Sheila—would notice.
“I said, how are your grandparents doing?”
