Page 21 of Reclaimed Roots

"There," Elliot proclaimed when we finally finished. "Now Tessa Belmonte can shut the fuck up about the goddamn fence."

I snickered and Elliot shot me a dry look. Those two had been going head-to-head since they could walk.

I straightened up, wiping my brow with the back of my arm. "Yeah, well, you know Tessa. She won't be happy until she's found something else to complain about."

"Ain't that the truth." He gave the new fence post a solid thump. "Woman's never satisfied."

"Maybe if you stopped riling her up on purpose..."

"Now where's the fun in that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, let's get this shit cleaned up." I bent down to gather the scattered tools. "I'm ready for a cold one."

Elliot clapped me on the shoulder. "Now you're talking, little brother."

I slidup to the bar an hour later, the stink of stale beer and decades of smoke clinging to the air. The dim light cast a vaguely seedy glow, neon beer signs buzzing faintly in the shadows. Not a cozy place by any stretch, but familiar in that grungy, unapologetic way only a hole-in-the-wall like Callaghan's could pull off. This joint had been slinging cheap drinks and turning a blind eye to Sable Point's shittier decisions for longer than I'd been alive. It was a part of this town's character, for better or worse.

"Who's the new guy?" I asked Elliot, nodding toward the hulking figure manning the bar. He looked like he could crush a man's skull between his thumb and forefinger without breaking a sweat.

Elliot winced. " Billy's dementia got real bad, so they had to put him in that care home over in Ashford. I'm guessing that's his grandson."

Shit. I hadn't heard about that.

"How the hell did I miss all that going down?" I felt a flicker of guilt. Billy had been running this dive since anyone could remember. He was as much a fixture as thecracked vinyl barstools and the permanent stains on the floor.

Elliot shrugged and snagged a handful of peanuts from a nearby bowl. "You've had other stuff on your mind lately."

I scowled, but he wasn't wrong.

The door swung open with a groan, a slice of fading sunlight spilling in from the street. Chase strode through, squinting against the glare as he made a beeline for the bar.

"Thanks for the invite, dickwads," he greeted us, sliding onto the stool beside me with a wolfish grin.

I shot him an exasperated look, but it was mostly for show. There was something comforting about the three of us hanging in this shithole. It took me back to when we were just a bunch of reckless kids chasing a buzz. Simpler times.

"You know that guy?" I asked, tilting my chin toward the new bartender.

Chase barked out a laugh. "Know him? Dude, this is the only bar in town. Of course I know him."

The guy caught Chase's eye from behind the bar and they traded a subtle nod, the sort of gruff acknowledgment only two rough-and-tumble small-town guys could really pull off.

"So, what'll it be, boys?" Chase leaned an elbow on the pitted bar top and pulled out his wallet. "First round's on me."

Chapter Eleven

NATALIE

"Goodnight,Jeanette. Thanks for all your help today."

I offered her a tired smile as she gathered her things to leave for the evening. The past four days had been brutal—a relentless barrage of paperwork and client conferences. They'd all asked the same question: "Are you taking things over?" I danced around the issue, offering some mildly reassuring response without making any commitments.

I'd been there for a week now, and while my bereavement leave had run out, it had been years since I took any time off. I had banked a lot of vacation time. Thirty-two days, to be exact. My boss wasn't thrilled, but he'd have to deal until I could get back to the city.

Jeanette patted my arm, her eyes filled with sympathetic warmth. "You're doing great, sweetheart. Your dad would be so proud to see you taking the reins like this."

"I hope so," I said, my voice thick. "I want to do right byhim, you know? By his legacy and all the clients who depended on him. Even if it is only temporary."

"And you will, honey." Jeanette squeezed my hand. "You've got his head for numbers and his heart for people. That's a rare combination."

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