4. Caden
CHAPTER 4
Caden
I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but letting a dog sleep in my bed has to be up there with one of the worst. I make the meals, clean our space, and pay the bills. And yet here’s Doug, living rent-free, sprawled out on my bed and leaving me less than a quarter of the mattress for my scheduled rest. He stirs, casting a stink-eye in my direction as if he knows I’ve been shit-talking him in my head.
“Move over, Doug.” I pull at the comforter, trying to create enough space to lie down without my limbs hanging off the edge of the bed.
The sun is starting to peek under the blinds as the shrill cries of my morning alarm break the silence.
Fuck this.
If you were to tell me I’d been used as a human pinata in my sleep, I wouldn’t be at all surprised.
My body aches.
I throw my phone back in the general direction of the bedside table, pulling a pillow over my head and plunging the room into perfect darkness.
Less than five minutes later, I’m disturbed again.
A fist that I can only imagine belongs to Maura bangs against my door in rhythmic thumps. She’s got to be fucking kidding. Rage fills my lungs as I throw on the first pair of jeans I can find and pull a hoodie over my head.
I crank the door open, ready to unleash a torrent of abuse on the five-foot woman in front of me, but her palm is already raised in front of my face as if she knew what was coming and has already decided she has no time for it today.
My jaw twitches as I cross my arms, leaning against the door jamb, waiting for her explanation. I’d love to know what inspired her to drag me out of bed with such aggression this morning.
“This better be worth it,” I grunt.
“You’re late, Caden!”
“For wh—” The words fall off as I remember agreeing to a morning pick-up in town – the new staff member that we definitely don’t need. A colossal waste of my time for no good reason. “I thought we were fully hired,” I grumble.
“Put this on!” She ignores me, throwing a fading black ball cap adorned with the Braggan Valley Lodge logo in my direction. “That way she’ll know you work for us, and that you’re not the serial killer that you look like right now.”
She .
This girl better come with a background in the trades and arms fit for chopping logs, or she’s no use to me.
“Maybe I am a serial killer.” I pull the cap down over my hair, covering up my unwashed bed head, save for the few strands peeking out at the nape of my neck. “You checked in the basement recently?”
“Don’t test me!” Maura scorns, pushing me out of the main house door towards my truck. “I don’t condone speeding, but you better put your foot down, Caden. First impressions matter.”
I couldn’t give two shits about first impressions.
I skulk towards my truck with Maura’s eyes like cattle prods in my back as I help Doug up into the cab.
My arm stretches out behind the passenger seat as I reverse. I’ve driven this highway since I was a teen, so I know I could make good on my promise to get there on time if I wanted to. But alas, I’ve zero interest in good timekeeping today. Dirt kicks up from the back wheels as I accelerate out onto the winding road towards town, before dropping down to a slow crawl once I’m out of Maura’s view.
I’d enjoy this Saturday morning drive much more if I wasn’t painfully aware of the gormless new recruit waiting for me at the end of it.
I say gormless with confidence.
I reckon a good fifty percent of the people who arrive in Braggan Valley for the summer leave before the season has even begun. Apparently, it comes as a shock to some people that the reality of living in the mountains is a little different from the aesthetic videos they’ve seen online.
One sighting of a coyote or bear scat, and they’ve packed their bags ready to head back to the city. It’s a basic life out here, and most people aren’t cut out for it. I’ve got no reason to believe this girl will be any different.
The rising sun is just kissing the tips of the mountains, a cool breeze meeting my hand as I hang my arm out of the driver’s window. I crank the volume and let rich, velvety country music fill the cab as I adjust my jeans to sit more comfortably. The road curves through the forest, light pouring in through the blank spaces in the trees intermittently. Letting my thoughts wander, I gently pump the brakes, inviting my truck to slow down as I attempt to reclaim some alone time.
Despite my best efforts to turn this thirty-minute drive into an hour, the truck has eaten up the best part of the journey and the lodge is long gone from my rear-view mirror.
I can probably get away with stalling the inevitable a little longer with a few spins round main street. Newbie has no idea what my truck looks like, and I doubt she has any other options for transportation. There’s only one taxi rank in Braggan Valley, and Dusty is probably still half cut from last night.
If she wants to make it to the lodge today, she can wait.
I stop off at The Coffee Pot, picking up a breakfast bagel before heading a block over to Frank’s hardware store where I’m bound to find him behind the counter. Frank can yap, and a yapper is exactly what I need if I want to waste some time right now.
The door jingles as I step into the open space of the hardware store reception area. Yes, the store has a reception. I’m pretty sure it’s Frank’s way of making sure he gets in his daily quota of small talk.
Could never be me.
“Caden, my boy!” Frank coughs, moving out from behind his till and patting me on the back with a beefy paw. “What’s brought you into town? ”
My eyes land on the leftover breakfast decorating his rusty grey beard. Nice .
“Maura has me on a staff pickup.” I throw a few lengths of rope into a basket as I continue to peruse the shelves for things I don’t need. “Thought I’d grab some supplies for the lodge while I’m here.”
“Right you are.” He hooks his thumbs inside his overall straps and rests on a stool, his round belly folding over the denim. “Some spring we had this year. I’ve not seen the lake melt that early since the nineties.”
“True. I’m holding out for some rain.”
The last thing we need is an early wildfire season in the Rockies.
“Wouldn’t do us no harm,” he agrees. “I’ll get the blame if my wife’s grass ain’t the greenest in the Valley.”
“She’ll murder you,” I add.
Frank seems to shudder.
There’s no denying that Stella wears the trousers in that relationship, and there’s a very real chance that he’ll come to harm if her garden isn’t up to scratch by June.
I let him ramble about the weather, the trials of the junior hockey team over in Aspen Ridge, and the recipe Stella’s planning on using for his birthday pie. I agree that the addition of mayonnaise to the pie crust seems strange, but that it most definitely could be the magic ingredient.
I’ve never met a pastry from Stella’s bakery that I didn’t like.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s no surprise that it’s Maura calling, checking up on my whereabouts – no doubt gunning to give me an earful for being late.
“Good morning, Caden’s Taxi Service,” I answer, sliding my finger across the screen to accept the call as I settle up for the rope and curtain hooks. “How may I help you?”
“Caden Thompson!”
Oh, she’s livid.
“Where are you?!” she roars. “You should have been at the visitor centre twenty minutes ago. Stella just called from the bakery, the poor girl is stranded.”
Stranded seems like a stretch. She’s in one of the most beautiful mountain towns in the world, right next to a bakery. Could be a hell of a lot worse.
“I think I’m lost,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as I goad Maura, playing with fire. “Can you remind me how to get to the bakery?”
Frank raises his brow across the counter, his expression somewhere between concern and amusement.
“The only thing you’ll be losing is your job, Caden!” Her voice seems to go up an octave with each sentence. “Stop with… whatever this is… and get your ass to that parking lot. Now!”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I reply, hanging up and sliding my phone into my pocket. “Gotta go, Frank.”
He shakes his head, waving me off as I head out the door and back to my truck.