“How was the tour?” Sara takes a seat next to me.
“We didn’t get too far, but I think Archer will be able to find his way around now.”
“Did you stop in and see Cato? He has the most adorable little puppies in there right now.”
“That’s actually about as far as we got because we ran into the sheriff,” Archer says.
“Oh yeah? How’s Jax?” The muscles in Sara’s face tense. She senses where this is going, and I don’t know whether I should excuse myself or stay to deflect some of Archer’s anger about her keeping this big secret.
“He’s good. He told me to pass on a message to you.” Archer’s legs uncross and he leans forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Something about if you need him to stop Chad from beating on you again, to let him know.”
“That’s not exactly what he said,” I mumble.
Archer ignores my interjection and proceeds to dig into Sara. “But that can’t be right, because I know you wouldn’t keep something like that from me.”
“We should talk about this later. I’ll go check on the kids in the backyard.” She stands to leave.
“No. You’re going to tell me what happened.”
“It wasn’t a big deal. He got a little handsy on his way out, but my neighbor called Jax and he came right over. He got Chad sent on his way and helped me change the locks on the house.”
My eyes dart from sibling to sibling. I absolutely hate tension. I think I’m allergic to it. It’s why I say whatever’s on my mind and don’t hold back. You can’t build up animosity if you’re honest one hundred percent of the time.
“Not a big deal? Are you kidding me? Do you know where Chad is right now?”
“I don’t know for sure. I know he isn’t in town.” She sinks back into the couch and her shoulders curl forward. She’s retreating, feeling threatened. “He hasn’t tried to get in touch.”
“I think I heard Lou call for you. Why don’t you go see?” I suggest to give her a way out of this interrogation.
Sara always strikes me as such a delicate person, like one wrong word and she’d disintegrate into nothing. Archer’s being an asshole and he doesn’t even see what his words are doing to her.
“Yeah, okay.” She pushes herself up, but it’s forced and slow. She’s weak mentally and emotionally.
I wait until she’s gone before laying into the big oaf of a bully across from me. “Was that necessary? Can’t you see she’s not handling all of this well?”
“You’ve known my sister for five minutes. I’ve known her her whole life. You don’t understand.”
“I understand completely. Whatever she’s going through, she’s in a bad place. You can’t attack her like that. You should be supportive and optimistic.”
“She’s tougher than she looks.”
“Are we talking about the same person? Because I may have only known Sara for five minutes, as you put it, but I know her well enough to know she doesn’t make eye contact with people. She’s polite, but never personable. She works hard and never complains. Who doesn’t complain? Scared people who are afraid of what response they’ll get by expressing how shitty something is. That’s who.” I jump to my feet, unable to control my frustration.
“That’s just her. Some people don’t need to waste their time whining.”
“And some people are depressed,” I whisper. Either not wanting to say it loud enough for Sara to hear, or because I don’t want to perpetuate the argument. Probably both.
“You should go.” He gets up and opens the front door.
“Fine. I will. Just please be gentle with her.”
“Don’t tell me how to take care of my family, Kian.” His eyes are dark and stormy. Whatever he and his sister have been through in their lives, they’re not trusting and open people. It makes me sad.
“Okay, I won’t. But if you ever need anything, I’m here for both of you.” I offer. Archer nods and unceremoniously closes the door after me.
Well, that could have gone better. I turn toward home, but realize I don’t have time before Focus opens, so I turn in that direction instead. I replay the day over and over, trying to figure out what I could’ve done differently.
I’m a problem solver. I’m the fixer of the town. It’s what I’m known for. Everyone comes to me for advice.
Not big, bad Archer. Nope. That wolf blew my house down and knocked the wind right out of me.
My first customer of the day is one of my best friends, Cato.
“I’m so glad to see you.” I run out from behind the counter to hug him, but realize he’s still covered in fur from his dog grooming business and stop short. “You couldn’t change before you came?”
“I didn’t have time. I heard a rumor about you and the new guy spending the morning together and rushed over after my last client.”
“Was your last client a bear? Because you’re fuzzy.”
“I thought he was before I got my shearers out. But nope. Just an unruly Chow Chow.” He produces a lint roller from his back pocket and proceeds to de-fur himself. “So, what’s up?”
“Rough day,” I whine and lead him to a barstool.
“I can see that. You look out of sorts.” His perfectly sculpted brow arches over one of his beautiful golden-brown eyes.
“First thing’s first. Want to try a new rosé I just got in? It’s a bit fruity and more of a summer wine, but it’s delicious.” I pull out the pale peach bottle of Jolie Folle.
“Sounds delicious. I’d love some.”
I pour two generous glasses of wine and set one in front of each of us. I don’t always drink while I’m working, but somedays it’s inevitable.
“I took Archer on a tour of town. Being neighborly and all.”
“Uh-huh. You’re a regular Mr. Rogers. Go on,” Cato prompts.
“It started out fun, but then we ran into Jax.”
“Uh-oh,” he singsongs into his wine.
“Exactly. But not for the reason you’re thinking. He mentioned what happened with Sara and her creepy husband.” I go to take another swallow of wine, but it’s gone. I pour one more glass. If it’s going to be one of those nights, then so be it. “Only Archer didn’t know about it, so he flipped out.”
“I would’ve flipped out too. I heard Jax recounting the story when he got back from the call. I think it’s the most action he’s seen in a long time. At least since Hank.”
“Except it’s Sara,” I say in explanation. Cato and I both agree that girl is as delicate as the stem of a wine glass.
“Aw.” He sighs. “Poor Sara.”
“Exactly. He stormed back to her house and was all up in her face about it. I tried to intervene and he kicked me out.”
“He didn’t,” he says on a gasp.
“He did. And now I feel bad. I’m a fixer, Cato, and I couldn’t fix this. He wouldn’t even let me try.”
“You can’t save them all, sweetie. Especially when you don’t know him. He could be dangerous.”