Chapter Eleven
Emma
“Can I get another book, Mommy? I already read the one I got last time.”
Though Olive knew the alphabet and could pick out her name, she couldn’t read yet. For her, reading meant paging through a book again and again until she had the whole thing virtually memorized. Emma found it adorable and
did all she could to foster the same love of reading in her child that had sustained her most of her life.
“You absolutely can get another book. Why don’t you pick one from Great-grandma Sylvia’s special shelf?”
She still could not quite believe her grandmother had been giving away children’s books in the middle of a bookstore whose
full purpose was to sell books. On the other hand, she couldn’t argue with her grandmother’s philosophy, similar to Dolly Parton’s, that all children
deserved to have books of their own to read and cherish.
“Okay. I’ll find one. Maybe I’ll play with the dollhouse while I’m there.”
“You do that. I’m going to be here moving books.”
Her mom was coming to pick up Olive after she finished a meeting. Her daughter was tired. Emma could tell. One part of her
wanted to take Olive home and put her to bed, have a lovely evening reading stories and holding her sweet-smelling child as
she drifted to sleep. The other part had so much to do that she did not know how she was going to accomplish all of it.
Keeping an eye on the play area, where her daughter seemed happily occupied for now, Emma continued bringing the books from the sidewalk sale back inside the store for the night.
They ought to have rolling shelves, she thought. If this were her store, she would definitely invest in them so they could
simply roll them in and out each night. At least they had sold a couple of boxes’ worth of books. That was something, even
if the prices were steeply discounted.
She had pulled the final box inside when she saw two familiar figures approaching, a man and a sleek silvery dog.
Bryce wore jeans, a snug T-shirt and an exhausted expression. She held open the door.
“Bryce! I never expected to see you today. Mom told me you had to run to Lincoln City. Some emergency with your mother, she
said. Is everything okay?”
His sigh was long and heartfelt and made her wish she felt comfortable enough in their growing friendship to hug him.
“Not really. It’s been a rough day. She fell and broke her hip. She’s in the hospital and probably will be there for a few
more days.”
“What are you doing here, then? You should be with her.”
“The hospital has my contact info. I can’t do anything more for my mom tonight. She’s settled for the night and the nurses
basically pushed me out the door. I told you I would be here again tonight to help you paint and to grab the bookshelves.
I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
Emma was not used to men who kept their promises and did exactly what they said they would. She was not quite sure how to
respond.
“After what Mom told me, I totally didn’t expect you.”
“I’ve had a long, hard day of sitting around in the hospital and I could use something physical to do.”
Her unruly mind instantly flashed with several physical things they could do that would be far more fun than hauling out some old bookshelves, but she quickly shoved the inappropriate thoughts away.
“I brought my trailer and furniture movers to take the shelves home with me. I can start working on them over the weekend.
I thought I could load them up after I’m done helping you paint, if they’re ready to go.”
“They’re ready. But let me handle the painting. The bookshelves would be more than enough.”
“I want to help,” he said again.
How could she argue with that? “If you’re sure,” she said, as Olive wandered over from the children’s area.
“Hi. There’s my friend Bryce,” she exclaimed, beaming at him.
“And there’s my friend Olive.”
“Is this your dog?”
“Yes. This is Pearl.”
“Hi, Pearl!” She hugged the dog and both of them looked instantly smitten with each other.
“Is Grandma here yet?” Olive asked.
“Not yet. I’m sure she will be soon.”
The words had barely escaped her mouth when the rear door opened and, as if on cue, Rosie came through, looking smart and
stylish as always.
“Grandma!” Olive raced toward Rosie, arms out. The naked love on her mother’s expression made Emma’s throat close up. Every
time she saw her mother and daughter, Emma knew she had made the right choice to come home, even with all the baggage between
them.
Olive needed Rosie in her life.
Okay. And perhaps Emma did, too.
Those years of their estrangement had been lonely and hard. She had yearned for the close relationship they once had. She didn’t quite feel comfortable yet around her mother but she hoped with time that would continue to improve.
Rosie and Olive hugged for a long time, as if they had last seen each other months ago instead of early that morning.
When her mother set the girl back to her feet and straightened, her gaze instantly fell on the two of them. Her eyes widened.
“Bryce! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with your mother!”
“Exactly what I told him,” Emma said, not wanting Rosie to think she was selfish enough to insist the man rush back to town
in the midst of his family crisis simply to help her.
“I was telling Emma that I’ve been in a hospital room all day and needed something physical to do.”
“That is so kind of you,” Rosie said. The affection in her expression gave Emma a little burst of jealousy that shamed her.
She had to get over this. Bryce had earned his spot in Rosie’s affection, while Emma still had a long way to go. It wasn’t
fair to resent him for the close relationship he obviously had with her mother.
“Did Bryce tell you the news?”
Emma looked between the two of them in confusion. “About his mother’s accident? Yes.”
That surely couldn’t be the reason for her mother’s suddenly bright expression.
“I, um, haven’t had a chance to tell her yet.”
“A chance to tell me what?” she asked, feeling a sudden sense of foreboding.
“Bryce will be helping you with more than rearranging shelving and clearing out clutter. I’ve asked him to handle the whole
bookstore refresh. Top to bottom.”
Emma stiffened as all her plans seemed to crash through the front windows.
“The refresh.”
Rosie beamed. “Yes! I’m so excited. He was telling me some of the things you wanted to do and they sound exactly what the
bookstore needs to rejuvenate sales. I love the idea of expanding into the space next door and adding a coffee stand as well
as more retail space. Genius!”
“Genius,” she repeated, feeling numb.
“We all need to sit down and go through the blueprints for the building and decide the best use of the space. I’ve told Bryce
to make this his number one priority for the next few weeks. When he’s not with his mother, anyway.”
Emma felt as if a whole bookshelf had fallen on her, knocking the breath from her lungs.
She had wanted to prove herself to her mother. Show Rosie she was more than capable of stepping up at the construction company.
How was she supposed to do that if Bryce stepped in to take over all the details of the bookstore renovation? How had he wiggled
his way into her project?
He must have read some of the turmoil in her expression. He gave her a careful look, hazel eyes murky with concern, before
he turned back to Rosie.
“Emma and I will work as a team. I would never consider doing anything not in line with her vision. This is her project. I
will simply be the hands helping her get it done.”
“The tool, in other words,” Emma muttered too low for her mother to hear. Bryce heard, though, and sent her a sudden flash
of a grin, there and gone again, before he turned back to Rosie.
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” her mother said.
“Since Bryce and I talked yesterday about expanding into the storage space, I’ve made a few sketches,” Emma said. “I can show them to you to make sure I’m not doing anything you don’t find acceptable.”
“You have excellent instincts, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll love anything you do.”
Emma was almost sure her mother did not mean that in the condescending way it sounded. Almost.
“Right. Well, I can show you what we were thinking, if you want to come take a look.”
Olive yawned, one of her huge, jaw-stretching yawns that took over her whole face. Rosie looked down with concern at her granddaughter.
“I do want to see what your plans are,” she assured her. “But I also think this sweetheart needs to get home to bed.”
Her mother was right. As usual.
Rosie reached for Olive’s hand. “Should we head back to the house and grab some dinner? How do you feel about grilled cheese
sandwiches and tomato soup on a rainy day like today?”
“I like grilled cheese sandwiches,” Olive said.
“Same,” Rosie said. “We’ll leave the two of you to your work, then. Bryce, take as much time as you need next week to be with
your mother. I insist on it.”
“Thanks, Rosie.”
He smiled at her mother with such warmth, Emma felt that twinge of jealousy again, though this time it stemmed from a very
different cause. She suddenly wondered what she would have to do in order for him to look at her with warmth and affection.
“You’ve removed everything from the bookshelves?” he said after her mother and Olive left.
“Yes. They’re pretty heavy. Can you move them by yourself? Do you need me to call somebody to give you a hand?”
“I’ll take a look but I should be fine with the dolly I brought along. I might need help steering them through the door. I already called one of my buddies and said I might need him to run over. He’s on standby and can be here in five minutes.”
“I can help you as soon as I’m done checking out the final customers and shutting things down for the evening.”
“Sounds good.”
She returned to the checkout counter as a young mother with two children approached, a stack of books in hand.
She slid them across the counter and Emma rang up two storybooks for her children along with a book on writing fiction and
an elegant journal with flowers on the cover.
“Are you a writer?” Emma asked as she bagged the books.
The woman looked embarrassed. “Trying to be. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I’m thinking about starting a writing group a few times a month, where writers can brainstorm or work together. No real organized
program, just sharing the same creative space for a few hours and cheering each other on. Do you think you might be interested?”
“Definitely! When do you think you might start? I would have to find a babysitter or work around my husband’s schedule, but
I would love something like that.”
“Wonderful! I don’t expect the renovation to be done for some time. We’re only in the planning stages now but I would love
to move forward as soon as possible.” She paused. “If you’re interested, I also would like to implement a few genre-focused
book groups as well as a regular children’s story time.”
“That’s fantastic. I would definitely be interested in all of those things.”
“Check back in a few weeks. Oh, and follow us on social media,” Emma said, slipping in the quarter-sheet flyer she had created with a QR code leading to the various social media pages she had created. “We’ll post updates about the project as we go.”
“That’s great. Thank you!”
The woman seemed almost giddy as she left, leaving Emma with a deep glow of satisfaction.
Would she feel that same sense of accomplishment working for Lucas Construction?
Maybe she wouldn’t have the same kind of personal interactions that she had always enjoyed while working in the service sector,
but building something from nothing would offer a different kind of fulfillment.
Even as she considered the possibilities, negative thoughts intruded. What made Emma think she had any right to step in at
Lucas Construction, simply because the company had been started by her mother and father? Yes, she had a business degree,
but she hadn’t really worked in construction at all, except when she was young and living here with her parents.
She had not earned anything nor did she really deserve that kind of chance after all she had done to hurt her mom over the
past decade.
And what about Bryce? He loved working for her mother and was obviously great at it or Rosie would not place such trust and
reliance on him.
With a sigh, she moved to the aisle where Bryce was hefting one of the big bookcases onto a wheeled furniture mover.
“You aren’t supposed to be doing this by yourself,” she exclaimed. “I thought you were going to call someone to help you.”
“They’re not as heavy as I figured they would be. I can handle it,” he assured her.
“I’ll help,” she said.
The two of them worked together to maneuver the heavy bookcases outside to his waiting trailer. It took muscle to push them up the small ramp into the back but they managed, then returned to the store for the other three.
By the time they were done, she was sweaty and her muscles ached. She really needed to get back to the gym, once she felt
more settled here in Wood Briar.
“Thank you,” she said as they returned to the bookshop. “It looks so much brighter in here already!”
“It might take me a week or so to have these ready, by the time I strip the finish off so I can paint them.”
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked.
“Water is great,” he said.
When she came out from the office holding two cups of water from the watercooler, she found him wiping his brow with his sleeve.
Emma couldn’t help but notice how his T-shirt raised up as he lifted his arms, revealing a thin strip of hard muscle above
the waistband of his jeans.
Awareness bloomed inside her like a long-dormant seed finally pushing through soil.
Cut that out, she told herself. She was not supposed to be interested in Bryce in that way. He was helping her, and she was grateful.
And apparently, they would have to work together if she wanted to whip the bookstore into the shape she desired.
But she was not about to fall for the man.