Chapter Three

Breanna stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The day was dragging by and she was growing tired with the stacks of books still to be inventoried. She wanted to go home, take a long hot bath, and go to bed early, but she knew Isaac would have other plans.

Taking the inventory list with her, she left the storeroom and headed back to her office. Her father owned a local bookstore, but it wasn’t until four years ago, when she arrived in Vermont, that the place became more than a storefront with a window display of old books. It was barely scraping by, and the older man had no idea how to run a business.

With Breanna’s talent for mathematics, as well as her organization skills, she pulled the small store out of the red within a year and was now showing a profit. Since adding the coffeeshop and reading room a year ago, her profit margin had nearly doubled. Even the town council was impressed by how successful the place was. Written on a Whim was so popular, people would come as far as New York to have a coffee and read a book.

“Hey, Bree,” Molly called out, waving a hand towards the cash register she was working at. “Can you come here please?

Breanna smiled as she forced herself to remain calm. She was tired, and last night’s events of fevers and earaches left her feeling worn out and exhausted. Despite the four hours sleep she’d managed to get all night, she had a job to do and she couldn’t ignore the girl’s summons.

“What’s up?” Breanna asked, walking around the back of the counter.

“This young man doesn’t have enough money for this book, but his teacher sent around a letter saying they needed it for class.

Breanna looked at the tall redhead across from her, smiling as he blushed a scarlet red and lowered his face. She had seen the boy in the store several times and knew he didn’t have much money. She had heard rumors about his family and knew they were struggling. His father had been laid off from the ski resorts earlier than normal, because of the unseasonably warm weather, and his mother worked at the local dry cleaners. Despite his lack of funds, the boy had his schooling to consider.

“I think we can make a deal,” Breanna said with a friendly smile. “How much do you have?

“I only have twelve dollars,” he said in a voice that cracked with hormones.

“The book is twenty-two dollars,” Molly said, looking up to her boss in her three-inch heels.

Breanna picked up the electronic scanner and ran it across the book’s label. The total, including taxes, was far greater than the boy could afford. She picked up the book and turned it over, looking at the title on the cover.

“Eco-Challenges of the Twenty-First Century,” Breanna said. “I remember reading this in school and I’m sure you’re not doing it because it’s light reading. I think we can let you have it for twelve dollars.

“Thank you, miss,” the boy said with a wide grin that revealed his metal braces. “I can earn the rest of it and pay you back later.

“It’s fine. How old are you?

“Sixteen.

“Have you ever considered getting a part-time job?

“Yes, but I can’t find anything that will work around school, and I don’t have a car to deliver pizzas.

“Then come back tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll see if I can find something to keep you out of trouble. We’re always looking for a strong pair of arms to lift boxes of books, and stock the shelves.

“That would be great, but what about school?

“Your school comes first, of course, and we’ll work your schedule out so you can get your homework done. But if your grades slip, then you won’t have a job. Agreed?

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be back tomorrow around three-thirty.

“We’ll see you then.” Breanna turned to leave, then stopped and turned back to the boy. “By the way. What’s your name?

“Marshall White.

“Alright, Marshall. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Breanna winked at Molly who smiled in response, then left the two to finish the transaction and headed back to her office. They both knew the store didn’t need any more help, but she couldn’t turn a kid away who was willing to work, and helping his family with a few extra bucks couldn’t hurt. Besides, it would only be for a couple of hours a day after school, maybe a half-day on Saturdays, and if it meant she could get away from stocking shelves, she’d be willing to hire the entire town of Stowe.

The evening was soon approaching and Breanna knew she had to get things wrapped up and get home. She closed the computer file she’d been working on with a sense of pride. Before the term started, she made an agreement with the school board to supply the textbooks at a discount, though still making a modest profit.

Since that time, the store benefited from the increased customers, as well as an increase in profits by more than fifteen thousand dollars. That, in itself, would prove to her father how well adapt she was to manage the store on his behalf.

Breanna stood up and walked to the door, collecting her purse from the chair she’d set it in and shut the light off as she left. She had to get home before Floyd and Isaac destroyed the house. They liked to make the evening meal but left a mess in their wake. Perhaps tonight would be different, she thought, though she highly doubted it.

She locked the door and headed to the front of the store, smiling at Raquel who worked at the coffee counter. She was a tall thin girl with short red hair and big green eyes. Barely eighteen, she was the newest of the five employees and the youngest. Hiring her was a step in the right direction. She was very pretty, and the boys seemed to come in by the droves to talk with her. She was also an excellent saleswoman. She made each one of them purchase a coffee and pastry while insisting they check out the latest sci-fi or horror book.

Molly was just closing up her till and waved to Breanna as she headed to the door. The petite blonde was the eldest of the employees, at the ripe old age of twenty-four, but she was far from being ready to retire. She was a small woman of five feet, with long blonde hair she kept in a French braid. She wore her nails long with colorful sparkles and designs and had a figure that attracted more than just the young men’s eyes. Even the elderly gentlemen, who came in to read the newspaper every morning, made a point of flirting with her.

Seth was twenty-two and worked at the service booth where he would research books for those customers wanting something special. He knew all the latest titles and was an expert at helping students find books to challenge them, without being more than they could handle. His short dark hair continually hung over his eyes, and despite how many times she told him to pull his pants up and wear a belt, they always seemed to fall below his waistline.

Mark was Seth’s younger brother, but far from being as devoted as his sibling. He was twenty years old and more interested in talking with the girls than doing his job. Because of this, Breanna was forced to put him to work in the stockroom, sorting out the books and assembling the inventory. Regardless, his handsome features and firm build brought the young ladies into the shop daily.

Mandy was the last of the five employees, sixteen years old, and very quiet. She was very pretty with her dark brown hair and eyes, though she was very shy. She preferred to work alone in the children’s reading room and would tell stories on the weekends to the kids that came in to find books. She was an inspiring author who loved to read and wanted very much to publish one of her children’s stories.

Breanna waved to the others as she headed to the door. The shop and the employees had a routine they followed, and there was no point in her telling them what to do. They worked together efficiently and never wasted their time or her money. Because of this, she didn’t mind leaving them on their own for a few hours, though tonight she wasn’t leaving until it was time to close up. If it hadn’t been for the new titles that had to be inputted into the computer system, and the books she had to get ready for the accountant, she’d have left a long time ago.

Going to her car, she slipped the key into the ignition and started it. With a tired sigh, she sent a text to the boys to tell them she was on her way, then connected her cellphone to the handsfree on her car and tucked it back into her purse. She hoped the night would be less chaotic then she predicted so she could relax in a hot bath before bed. She had a feeling Isaac would want to stay up and talk about his day, and she was too tired to want to listen.

She was very happy that she had been able to move beyond her past and found true love, but there were times when she just needed to be alone. Last night had been rough, and she was tired from a lack of sleep, but she desperately wanted to spend time with Isaac. The love she had for him far surpassed anything she’d ever felt before. With the exception of her father, she had never loved anyone as much as she loved him.

Pulling her car out of the parking lot, she headed down the road towards Mount Mansfield. Her father’s home was five minutes from the store, making the commute much less hectic than she had back in Los Angeles. Fortunately, their home was on a large piece of land with plenty of privacy, and room for their new Golden Retriever puppy, Isaac insisted they name Percy.

She drove the short distance to the large four-bedroom, four-bath contemporary home Floyd had built for his ex-wife and daughter, twenty years ago. She smiled as she imagined the mess the boys were making in the large white and black kitchen, though she honestly didn’t mind. They got along much better than she ever imagined they would, and she knew they loved each other greatly. They were the best of friends and spent as much time together as they could. Their favorite pastime was spending the warm summer days fishing at the stream that ran through the property, or skiing during the cooler winter months.

Isaac wasn’t a very good skier, with only one winter under his belt, but he still enjoyed the idea of spending time with Floyd. Now, with autumn heading their way, the days turning cooler, the sport was all he could talk about. He was eager for more lessons and anxious to learn as much about the slopes as he could.

Breanna turned onto the road that led to the house and waved to Ida Fox, the middle-aged neighbor down the block from their house. She was a nice enough woman, though Breanna was certain she was more interested in Floyd than she was her gardening. The dark blonde-haired woman had lost her husband last year from complications due to pneumonia and had since spent a great deal of time visiting with Floyd and Isaac. She was always making some form of dessert and bringing it to them or making an excuse just to stop by and visit.

In a way, Breanna felt sorry for the woman. Her two boys were grown, with her youngest away at school and her eldest recently married. Without her husband around to occupy her time, she was alone in a large house without anyone to talk with. It must have been difficult for her, and Breanna was constantly reminding her father to be nice to their neighbor.

She pulled her car into the driveway and pressed the button for the garage door. She waited patiently until it opened enough that she could pull her small Kia inside, then parked and turned the ignition off. She drew a deep breath and took her purse, then climbed out of the warm interior. She could hear Percy barking and heard the deep chuckle of her father as she pressed the button for the garage and entered through the door that led down the back hallway.

The sound of music echoed through the house as Breanna tried to step around the dog that met her, jumping up on her legs. She smiled when she heard the conjoined laughter of Isaac and Floyd, then nudged the dog away and walked to the living room. She set her purse down on the sofa table and made her way through the house to the kitchen.

Isaac was standing at the counter, an apron across his blue shirt and khaki shorts, while Floyd worked at the stove. There was flour strung across the island from the homemade noodles, and spaghetti sauce splattered across the back of the stove. The ingredients for a salad were in the sink next to Isaac, who was working at scrubbing the carrots.

“Could you two be any noisier?” she asked with an amused tone to her voice. “I could hear you all the way out to the garage.

“Mommy,” Isaac shouted, climbing down from the stool that he’d been standing on.

She smiled happily as she reached down, gathering the boy in her embrace, hugging him tightly. “How are you feeling?

“Good.

“Do your ears still hurt?

“Nope, all better,” Isaac smiled.

“Did you have fun with Grandpa today?” Breanna asked, kissing his chubby cheek.

“Yes. We went to the store and then catched two fish.

“Caught,” she corrected, carrying her son to the sink and looking in. “Why aren’t we having fish for supper?

“Because we put them back. Gampa said they was too small to eat.

“Were,” she corrected again. “And don’t get too used to spending all day with your Grandpa. Tomorrow, you’re back in school.

“Why don’t you go get washed up and change while we finish dinner,” Floyd said with a wide smile. “Once Isaac is finished washing the carrots, we’ll be ready to eat.

“It has to all be cutted up,” Isaac said when his mother set him back on the stool. “Gampa said I can’t use the knife. I’m too little.

“That’s very true,” Breanna assured him. “I’ll finish the salad after I change. Give me five minutes, and I’ll be back.

“Take your time. The noodles aren’t quite there yet.

Breanna kissed her father’s cheek, dipped her finger into the sauce and tasted it, then turned and walked out of the room. She took her purse and headed up the stairs, listening to Isaac’s favorite CD over the surround sound, repeatedly telling her about the bus wheels.

She walked down the hallway and opened the door to her room, sighing contentedly as she set her purse down on the dresser. Life was much better than she could imagine it would ever be. She was happy, she had a beautiful son who she loved very much, and a father she’d never considered sharing her life with a few years ago. There was nothing in the world that could take away her feeling of serenity.

Changing out of her tights and skirt, Breanna slipped on a pair of blue jeans and her fuzzy pink slippers, then washed her makeup off and pulled her long dark hair back into a ponytail. She switched on the lamp next to her bed, pulled down the blankets for nighttime, then left the room. She walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen, chuckling at her father who was dancing in place in front of the stove.

Isaac had water all over the floor and granite counter, but at least the vegetables were clean. His apron was wet and stuck to his shirt, and the air was filled with the alluring scent of spaghetti sauce.

Breanna took the three plates from the cupboard and set them on the small table next to the room’s entrance, along with the forks and spoons, and three cups. It was a typical routine for meals. She’d collect the items necessary for eating, and her son would assemble them in the dining room.

“I’ll finish that,” she told Isaac, taking the vegetables from the sink and placing them in a strainer. “Why don’t you go set the table.

“Gampa has darling bread in the oven,” Isaac said, climbing down from the stool. “He said I can butter it when it’s done.

“What’s darling bread?” she asked her father once Isaac had left the room to set the table as instructed.

“Garlic bread,” Floyd chuckled softly. “That little man is speaking much better the past few months, but he still gets his words mixed up.

“I can’t believe how quickly he’s growing up,” Breanna said with a grin. “I owe a lot to you and his preschool.

“How was work?” Floyd asked, seeing the strange emotion wash over his daughter’s face. He could still remember the day she came to Vermont. She was beaten, bruised, and depressed. She spent weeks crying, then she discovered she was pregnant. Her depression took a downward nosedive. At first, she considered an abortion, until the day she heard Isaac’s little heartbeat. After that, she no longer cared about his father or the hell she had gone through. Instead, she found a renewed sense of purpose.

“It was good,” she told him, setting the vegetables on the counter to chop. “We got two new titles in, and I finished the books for your accountant. We’ve made a fifteen-thousand-dollar profit since signing with the school board.

“I’m impressed. And to think, I was considering selling the store and moving on to a warmer climate.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I love that place, and Isaac loves Vermont. He can’t wait to start skiing again.

“I know,” Floyd chuckled, taking the noodles off the stove. “He asked if we could get new skis today. I had a hard time convincing him to wait a few more weeks. We still have a couple of months before the snow falls, and plenty of time to use the slopes.

“You’ve turned my baby boy into an outdoorsman,” Breanna smiled.

“It’s nice to have a buddy to go fishing with.

“I wanted to tell you, I hired a new boy for the store today. He came in for a book his teacher told him to get, and he didn’t have enough money. He’s the son of Grace and Tyson White. I figured his family could use the money, and we could always use another set of hands.

“I suppose you gave him the book at a significant discount,” Floyd asked with a knowing smile.

“He had to have it, and I couldn’t see depriving his education for a few bucks. Besides, I didn’t think you’d mind.

“You know I don’t care what you do. Now that Isaac is old enough to do things with, I’d rather be with him than stuck inside a stuffy building.

“That’s why I’ve been thinking about making you, my business partner. I contacted my attorney a few days ago, and he’s drawing up the papers to make it legal. I want to make certain you and Isaac are taken care of in case anything happens to me.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Dad,” she assured him. “And I’d be proud to be your partner. I love that store, and I enjoy working there more than I ever enjoyed teaching. It’s a far greater life than anything I’d ever imagined when I first came here.

“Speaking of your past,” Floyd said in a low voice, wiping his hands on a towel and walking to the counter next to the room’s entrance. “You got a letter from a Los Angeles attorney, today. I didn’t open it, but I’m sure it has something to do with your husband. Do you think he’s learned about Isaac?

“I don’t see how he could have. I’ve severed all ties to my past, and I’ve never used his name. He has no idea where I went when I left him.

“Well, this seems important.

Breanna looked at the manila envelope her father handed her, then moved away from her task of preparing the salad to open it. She read the return address, causing her frown to deepen. It was from Hansen, Brown, and Wilson, Attorneys at Law.

She was about to remove the seal when Isaac came bouncing back into the room, chattering about the darling bread. She pulled a stack of papers out of the envelope and frowned. It was from Zachary’s family attorney, and she found herself swaying gently as she leaned back against the counter. She read through the first few paragraphs before looking up to see her father and son. They were at the counter, the hot bread in front of them, as they covered the tops with butter.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” Floyd asked, seeing her pale cheeks.

“It’s…nothing…” she said hesitantly.

She wasn’t willing to get into the details of the letter in front of her son, and she was having a difficult time trying to determine if the information was true or not. She had never known a lawyer to lie to the courts, and this would be a very cruel trick to play on anyone.

“Isaac, take the bread into the dining room while we get the spaghetti,” Floyd told his grandson, placing the eight slices of bread onto a platter and handing it to him. “Just be careful.

“I will, Gampa,” the child said, then slowly walked out of the room.

“Breanna, what is it?” Floyd asked again, coming to her side. “What’s going on?

“It’s about Zachary,” she whispered. “The letter is from his lawyer. It says he and Phillip were in a car crash. He’s…dead.

“Are you sure?

“They sent a copy of his death certificate, as well as his will. He left me…everything, Dad. I was his sole beneficiary.

“What’s that mean?

“It means…I’m the widow of a millionaire.

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