The Quietest Shop on Main (Shops on Main #3)

Chapter 22

22

“ R eady John?” Dalton asked.

Skyla bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something that would put a damper on her Grandfather’s enthusiasm.

“I don’t plan to let any of them get away,” Grandpa said, thrusting a shaky fist in the air. “The one that got away stories are for sissies.”

Analiese laughed, and Skyla smiled a little, though her stomach still churned with fear.

“That’s the spirit,” Analiese replied. She wrapped her arm through Grandpa’s. “Remember your promise.” Analiese winked at Skyla, then looked back at Grandpa. “You won’t tire yourself out. If you’re stumbling, we use the wheelchair.” Analiese pointed to Skyla, and Grandpa followed the point. “Your granddaughter does a dang good job of taking care of you, and she’s trusting us tonight to do the same.”

Grandpa scoffed, but he was grinning. “Her instincts are off,” he grumbled. “Got that from her grandmother.”

Analiese gave his forearm a playful slap. “None of that. Captain Saunders has taken thousands out on the boats, and hundreds have come back. We’re in good hands.”

Skyla put her hands on her hips. “Analiese…”

Skyla’s friend held up her free hand. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

Dalton stomped his feet at the door and then stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Ready?” he asked the group, his gaze landing on Skyla last.

“Ready,” Annaleise announced, then gave a sharp glare to Grandpa. “And John has agreed to behave.”

“I said no such thing.” Grandpa snorted and started tugging Analiese toward Dalton. “If you’re so good at your job, you’re just going to have to deal with me.”

Skyla shook her head, knowing her grandpa was joking, but the level of stress and anxiety she was experiencing just wouldn’t seem to let go. Her head had been pounding for days, and she had actually lost a couple pounds. Her skin was pale, and her eyes looked haunted most evenings before she went to bed.

Dalton’s boots landed in her vision, and Skyla automatically looked up. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “My mind wandered off.”

Dalton’s eyes roamed her face, gentle as a caress and Skyla wanted to revel in the attention, but she was too afraid he was seeing all the things that were wrong, instead of finding her attractive.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, brushing his fingertips along her cheek. “I’m really worried about you.”

Skyla blinked back the sting of tears. They’d been very prevalent lately. The more tired she was, the more she was prone to emotional outbursts. Gosh, she needed rest.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t coming tonight.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, clearing her throat when her voice broke. “Really.”

Dalton slowly shook his head. “You’re not. But I won’t argue with you.” One side of his mouth lifted. “It wouldn’t do any good, anyway.” He leaned slightly sideways to kiss her cheek. “Try and rest, huh? I promise we’ll take good care of him,” he whispered against her cheek.

Skyla let her eyes drift shut for just a moment, but no longer. If she kept them shut too long, she’d end up doing just as he suggested, and she couldn’t afford that tonight. “I have a little work to get done,” she said, downplaying just how far behind she was. “Once that’s done, I’ll brew a cup of tea and curl up with a blanket while I wait for you guys to get back.”

She offered him a smile and prayed he couldn’t see how much it was trembling.

“I’m expecting another big batch to put in my freezer,” she teased.

Dalton sighed. “I’ll do my best to deliver.” One last kiss saw him spinning and stomping right back out the way he came, taking Skyla’s heart and energy with him.

She waved as Dalton, Analiese, and Grandpa rode away in Dalton’s SUV. Part of her wished to be going with them, but the other part knew this was her only chance to catch up on jobs that had been set aside for too long.

Sighing, she closed the door and grabbed her coat. She needed to go to the shop. She didn’t want to go to the shop, but there was still a mess lying around from her decorating, and there was one more box of the Christmas village she needed to put in the front window.

If she didn’t get it done now, the holiday season would be over before she ever finished.

Grabbing her keys and taking a deep, fortifying breath, Skyla ignored the way her eyelids felt like ten-pound weights and the stiffness in her limbs that screamed for her to sit down and put up her feet.

One late night. One late night, and she could rest. Maybe. Sort of. Okay…she could dream of resting.

“Oh my gosh,” Skyla whispered to her empty car. “I haven’t even begun to shop for Christmas yet.” She groaned and squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter. Where was the time going? Why was it so fast, and how could she catch up? Life had hard moments, but was it really supposed to be impossible?

Gritting her teeth, Skyla forced her mind onto other things. “One thing at a time,” she told herself, taking another deep breath. “One thing at a time.”

Ten minutes later, she parked in the alley beside her shop and turned off her car, tabulating everything she needed to do.

The village shouldn’t take too long. Hopefully. Then she needed to finish tying ribbons around the bundle they were currently advertising for the holidays. And lastly, she needed to stuff her custom holiday gift bags with tissue paper so they were ready for quick transactions during the day.

Trying to create a cute package in the middle of a busy afternoon was only holding up her line, and people were anxious to be in and out, especially as the holidays got closer.

“That’s not bad,” Skyla told herself. “I can do that.”

Pulling her key out of her pocket, she stuck it in the front door, then paused. Something was wrong. It was already unlocked. But…

Skyla stepped back, chewing her bottom lip. She looked through the large front window, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Only the front window lights were on. Another would be on in the back storage room, but that couldn’t be seen from here. Had she just forgotten to lock up behind herself today?

It was possible. After all, her mind was everywhere but where it needed to be.

Deciding it was just her fatigue, Skyla shook her head, scolded herself for being a ninny and stepped inside. She paused for a few seconds to be sure, but no sounds that weren’t familiar greeted her ears.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered, stepping farther into the shop. Without turning on a light, she walked straight to the checkout desk, knowing the route by heart. No need to let the entire neighborhood know she was here working after hours. Some of the shops had apartments above them, and they didn’t need to be staring at her while she worked.

After turning her last corner, Skyla didn’t even have time to gasp before something swung through the dark and whacked her on the side of the head. The unexpected blow knocked her into a set of heavy wooden shelves, her temple hitting exactly on a ledge.

She never even felt the landing on the wooden floor as her world disappeared.

The sea was choppy tonight. It wouldn’t normally bother him, but John was here. The man that Dalton had sworn to protect and take care of. Not to mention, the man who was struggling to stay on his feet.

The combination of those two things was nearly giving Dalton a heart attack.

He wanted to believe that Skyla would forgive Dalton if something went wrong, but he wasn’t so sure. She took her relationship with her grandfather seriously. So seriously, that Dalton wasn’t sure if his relationship with her would win out in the end.

He was in love with the quiet bookworm. The kind, sweet woman who put everyone but herself first. The one who never wore a scarf, was always freezing, smiled like the sun, and loved orange chicken.

He’d determined last night that he was going to make their situation permanent, but now Dalton was questioning whether or not it was feasible.

Skyla still wouldn’t talk to him. It wasn’t that she was pushing him away, but something kept her from confiding in him and letting Dalton fully into her life.

How could he ask for her to be his wife if she wasn’t willing to share all parts of herself?

“Dalt!” Analiese called. She was bracing herself on the deck, her arms around John, who was struggling to hold his feet.

“John,” Dalton growled, storming over. “Dewey! Grab the wheelchair!”

“Never said I needed it,” John grumbled, his entire being trembling.

“We made a deal,” Dalton scolded, pushing John as gently as possible into the chair once Dalton’s crewmen arrived. “You’re breaking it.”

John slumped in the chair and used his mittens to rub at his face. “I don’t even like fishing,” he snapped back.

Dalton froze. “Excuse me?”

The elderly man glared, his white eyebrows pulled together. “What if we pulled up the rods and had a little chat instead?” he asked.

Dalton straightened, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re serious.”

John nodded.

“And tell me why we couldn’t have done this at home?” Dalton waved an arm around the boat. “Away from the freezing cold and leaving Skyla by herself?”

“That’s exactly why,” John argued. He leaned forward, but his thick coat didn’t let him get far. “Skyla can’t be here for this. Why do you think I didn’t push for her to come?”

Dalton stared at John, then looked incredulously at Analiese.

His sister put her hands in the air. “I had no idea. He’s been talking about fishing for weeks.”

“It was never about the fishing,” John said, shaking his head. “We need to talk about Skyla.”

“Right.” Dalton pinched his lips together. “Dewey!” he barked. “Take the helm. If you guys want to catch a few, do. But we’re not staying long.”

The crewman opened his mouth to say something, but Dalton’s glare must have been enough to have the man backtracking. “Yes, Cap.” He gave Dalton a salute.

Normally, Dalton would have laughed, but not tonight. Right now, Dalton was using all his energy not to throttle an old man who had caused this ruckus,

Grabbing the back of John’s wheelchair, Dalton pushed the man forward and into the indoor seating area. The wheelchair barely fit through the aisle, but it was enough.

Squeezing himself around the side of the chair so they were facing each other, Dalton stood, his arms folded over his chest and legs braced so he wouldn’t fall as the boat rocked and swayed heavily. “Talk.”

John glared. “No need to be so snappy.”

“Mr. Bowen,” Dalton said firmly. “I’ve pulled my entire crew out here tonight to fulfill, what you called, a lifelong dream. It’s cold. It’s dark. We’re on the edge of a storm. Yes, they enjoy fishing, but not under extreme conditions. This isn’t some reality show on television, and I’d appreciate it if you’d take that into consideration next time before you put us through all this stress and work for nothing.”

Whoa…Dalton was a little impressed with himself. He was normally a level head under pressure. But tonight, that had been pushed a little too far. He was worried about Skyla, who had been left alone. He was worried about the weather. He was worried about John being safe and well. Finding out this whole thing could have been avoided was like a sucker punch to the solar plexus.

John sighed, took off his gloves and rubbed a shaky hand over his face. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I’m sorry.”

Dalton raised his eyebrows. He’d never heard the man back down from anything.

John narrowed his eyes, looking up. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled you out here,” he continued. “But I don’t regret seeing you in your element and seeing how far you’d go to take care of me.”

Dalton’s eyebrows shot down and together. “I don’t understand.”

John shook his head. “It’s all too easy to look good at a dinner,” he said. “Sky has had other boys come sniffing around. She’s nice, ya know. Too nice for her own good.”

Dalton’s nostrils flared at the mention of other guys, but he held his tongue.

“She didn’t date all of them, but it’s easy to look good if you only spend a few hours together in the evening.”

“So you were trying to see how I was in real life?” Dalton asked. “Trying to catch me in what? A lie? So you could report to Skyla that I wasn’t who I said I was?” His anger was really flaring now. Instead of a fishing trip, it was the Spanish Inquisition! Who did that?

John’s shoulders barely shifted the coat, but Dalton was fairly sure the man was shrugging. “Sort of. I’ve been feeling confident in you for a long time now. You don’t just take from Sky, you give.” He sniffed. “She needs that. She gives too much. She needs someone willing to give back.” He shook his head. “I had to be sure. You understand? I had to be sure.”

Dalton opened his mouth, then shut it. How was he supposed to argue with that? The whole situation was extreme and bizarre, but…did Dalton really blame John for wanting to be careful?

“We both know I don’t have long,” John pressed. “It could be weeks. It could be years.” He grunted. “Honestly, I’m ready to go, but Sky…she’s not. She needs someone else. If I leave, she’s alone.”

Dalton froze. Skyla had said something similar. Dalton wasn’t wishing for John to be gone, but why was no one willing to see Dalton? He was right here! He wouldn’t leave Skyla alone. It wasn’t in his nature, even if Dalton wasn’t hoping to marry her. “Do you really think she’d be alone?” Dalton asked, forcing his tone to be soft. “She has friends. No one would let her just fade into the background.”

John hit the arm of his chair. “I don’t want her to just have friends. I want her to have someone to take care of her.”

“John…Skyla doesn’t need someone to take care of her.”

John glared.

“What she needs is a partner.” Dalton shook his head. “I know what it’s like to take care of someone.”

John slumped and rubbed his forehead, pushing his beanie back a bit. “You took care of Analiese just fine. Why not Skyla?”

“Because I don’t want a wife to take care of. I want a wife to work with.” Dalton cleared his throat. He was going out on a limb, one he might regret in just a moment. “I love Skyla.”

John’s head snapped up.

“I hope to make her my wife someday. But you say you want someone to take care of her, it sounds like she’s an invalid needing a nurse.”

John huffed, but didn’t argue.

“I’m hoping for a marriage where we take care of each other, not where I make a promise to take away her agency and independence.”

John blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Didn’t you?” Dalton challenged.

“Well…maybe a little,” Mr. Bowen muttered. “She just gives too much.”

“But that’s also what makes her happy.” Dalton held up a hand to stop an argument. “I agree. She’s currently running herself into the ground right now trying to keep up with taking care of everyone. I get that. We need to find a happy medium, but we don’t need to take it away from her completely. She wants to give. It’s how she finds purpose, and it’s part of what I love about her.” Dalton cleared his throat. “And I’m currently trying to find a way to get her to let me help. But bringing me out on a fishing excursion in the middle of the night when you don’t even want to fish isn’t the right way to go about it.”

John made a face. “It sounded like a good idea at the time. I needed to learn more about you. I thought…” He sighed. “I thought it would either make or break it all. You’d be a fraud, or you’d be genuine. How was I supposed to know?”

Dalton spread his arms. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

“Anything?”

Dalton nodded, completely understanding that he might regret what he was doing. But there was little he wouldn’t do if it meant clearing the way to Skyla.

“Anything.”