Page 78

He had to choose that moment to pull himself away from the grill.

“You can put your construction skills to good use. Find some purpose in your life.”

Asher ground his jaw and considered his words. He looked at the man who did little to try and understand him. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not joining your construction business, Dad.”

Dad’s smile faltered. “What’s the matter? Getting your hands dirty too good for you? You have something against hard work?”

“I’ve been working hard all my life.” Asher’s voice rose as his fingers curled into fists. “Just because you don’t approve doesn’t mean my life doesn’t have purpose.”

Conversations quieted around them as the party guests pretended they weren’t staring and listening to the same old father-son argument.

Mom left her group of women and hurried over to them, her mouth tight. “That’s enough. Both of you. This is not the time or the place for this discussion.”

Dad strode back to the grill without another word.

Asher hugged his mother. “Sorry, Mom. I gotta jet.”

She held him at arm’s length, the disappointment on her face adding to his feelings of failure. “But you just got here. And your sister’s on her way.”

He kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you.”

With a nod to his uncle, he headed to his rental and slid behind the wheel. As he headed back in the direction he’d come, Asher sagged against the seat.

Home for less than fifteen minutes, and he and his dad couldn’t manage a five-minute conversation without jumping at each other’s throats.

He shouldn’t have even bothered to show up. He had no idea where he was going from there, but he knew one thing. He had no real place to call home.

Not anymore.

Chapter Fifteen

Sadie had traded one disaster for another.

Pools of stagnant water puddled on the worn tile floor in the bakery. No matter how much she mopped up, the water still seemed to settle in the cracks and crevices.

Her freshly painted walls had been splattered with grimy water from the pipe that burst in the kitchen and poured gallons of water through the store.

Hunter Barrett came out of the kitchen, his face grim.

She tightened her grip on the mop. “How bad is it?”

Rubbing a hand over his forehead and dislodging his Barrett Construction hat, he shook his head. “It’s not good, Sadie.”

Her shoulders slumped as she lifted the industrial mop into the metal bucket on wheels and pushed it to the corner. She lifted her hands and dropped them to her sides. “Might as well let me have it.”

Hunter proceeded to lay out the cost for all new plumbing, not to mention the cost of replacing some of the equipment that had gotten fried as the bursting pipe created minor flooding in the store, leaving several of inches of water in its wake.

Maybe new owners wouldn’t want the equipment anyway. Maybe that didn’t matter as much as replacing walls and flooring. Maybe she was kidding herself into not panicking.

His estimate was a crushing blow, each number chipping away more and more at her goal to keep Gran on island.

Tears filled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around her waist.

Her phone chimed from the front counter. She picked it up and found Mia’s number on her screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, Sadie. Just passed the bakery on my way to Martha’s and saw your lights on. How bad is it?”

“Well, Hunter gave me an estimate with way more zeros than I cared to hear.”