Chapter 19: Robyn

We spend all day Sunday lazing around the cabin, relaxing, reading, and watching more Bridgerton . The sex scenes between Daphne and Duke give Micah ideas, and we end up making out on the sofa. We cook together, do a bit of laundry, and even take a hike in the woods. We make a pit stop at the old shed in the woods. He even talks me into another shooting lesson. This one goes much better than the first one, and I actually hit the target more often than I miss it.

My ears are ringing by the time we finish—even with protection. “God, I hope I don’t ever need to use this thing.”

“I hope so, too,” Micah says. And then he proceeds to make me load the magazine again.

“This is harder than it looks. I swear, my fingers are going to fall off.”

When I’m done, he kisses my fingertips, one at a time. “Let’s hope that’s not the case.”

After lunch, Micah spends some time outside chopping wood. He’s got a lean-to behind the cabin that’s full of neatly stacked logs intended for the woodstove. I’m enjoying watching him do his lumberjack thing.

* * *

On Monday morning, I wake with a groan. It’s back to work today. I check the time and realize I’d better drag myself out of this warm and cozy bed and get ready or I’ll be late. Micah’s spot next to me is empty, and I hear water running in the shower. It looks like he beat me to it.

When I hear the blow dryer in the bathroom, I imagine him drying his hair. When he emerges from the bathroom, wearing blue jeans and nothing else, my jaw drops. I can’t stop staring at his bare chest, at all that smooth, warm copper-brown skin. And those abs! The guy has a real six-pack.

I read all the time about six-pack abs in romance novels, but how many guys in real life actually have them? Micah does, and he must get them from doing physical labor. In all the time I’ve been here, he’s never once mentioned going to a gym. Instead, he works on cars and chops wood.

His hair hangs loose down his back. I’ve never been a big fan of long hair on guys, but now I’m a convert. On him, it’s devastating. I could melt from just looking at him.

I watch as he prepares his hair for braiding by smoothing the strands and securing them in a ponytail. And then, without even seeing what he’s doing, he reaches back to separate the strands into three equal sections and quickly weaves them together. He secures the ends with another hair tie.

“How did you learn to do that? Mine always turns out a lopsided mess.”

“Ruth taught me, and our mom taught her. Want me to braid yours?”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. It’ll just take a few seconds. We have time.”

“It takes me forever, and I still do a bad job of it.”

Micah steps closer and takes the comb from me. “Turn around.”

I do as instructed, and a moment later I feel him dragging the comb through my hair. I’d already worked out the tangles, so it slides easily through the long strands. Delicious tingles race up and down my spine, and I can’t stop myself from shivering. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

After he’s made sure my hair is tangle-free, he lays the comb on the kitchen table and runs his fingers through my hair, carefully dividing it into sections. His touch is firm and confident as he quickly braids the sections, tugging on my hair, which sends more tingles down my spine. He’s done in less than a minute.

“Where’s your hair tie?” he asks.

I raise my right hand, showing him the elastic tie wrapped around my wrist.

He pulls it off gently and secures the ends of my braid with a few wraps of the tie. “All done.” He lays his hands on my shoulders and gives them a light squeeze, brushing his thumbs against the back of my neck. His voice drops when he says, “Look at the time. We should go.”

“Right.” I pull on clean socks and my sneakers, and then I gather my phone and purse. We pull on our coats, and then he opens the door for me. We step out into blustery cold wind.

There’s a light dusting of snow on the ground, signaling that winter isn’t far away.

* * *

When I arrive at the diner with two minutes to spare, I kick the snow off my boots and rush down the hall that leads to the employee lounge. I put my purse in my locker and change into my work T-shirt. Just as I’m tying on my apron, I hear a toilet flush in the adjacent women’s restroom. The door to the bathroom opens and out walks one of the servers I haven’t had a chance to meet yet. She tends to work the evenings, and she arrives about the time I’m leaving.

She stops in her tracks and stares at me. “You must be Robyn.”

I grin. “Guilty as charged.”

“I’m Michelle.” Her voice is stiff. No smile. She just stares at me.

She’s about my height, five-foot-seven or so, with straight black hair that hangs in a bob just below her chin. Her eyes are a dark caramel color.

“Have you worked here long?” I ask, hoping to break the ice. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she dislikes me, but that’s impossible. We’ve never even met.

“Two years.” Her eyes narrow on me, and suddenly the air is thick with tension. Then she frowns and shakes her head before turning and walking out of the lounge. She mutters something under her breath, but I can’t make it out.

I finish tying my apron and close my locker. Then I wash my hands in the bathroom and head out into the dining room.

The door opens and an elderly couple comes in. They’re here every morning for breakfast. I’m already recognizing the regulars. I grab two mugs and a coffee pot and walk over to their booth in front of the window to greet them.

Maggie from the grocery store next door comes through the connecting door to pick up some donuts for her store.

I see a few more familiar faces throughout the day. Chris stops in for lunch and sits at the counter to chat with Jenny. Apparently, she made a blueberry pie that morning just for him.

A little while after the lunch rush thins out, Micah’s sister, Ruth, and her boyfriend stop in to say hi to Jenny. They sit at the counter, but when Jenny’s called back to help out with something in the kitchen, she asks me to step in to wait on them.

“Hi, guys,” I say as I hand them each a menu. “What can I get you?”

Ruth smiles. “How are you liking the new job, Robyn?”

“It’s great. Everyone’s really friendly.”

“That’s small-town life for you,” Jack says. “Everybody’s nice, but they’re also all up in your business, which sometimes isn’t so nice.”

Laughing, Ruth elbows Jack. “We’ll both have coffee and the lunch special.”

Today, that means chicken and dumplings served over real mashed potatoes—there are no shortcuts in Jenny’s kitchen.

“Coming right up,” I say as I fill out their ticket and clip it to the rotating order holder on the counter behind me.

“I heard you flew with Micah and Killian on Saturday,” Ruth says. “How was it?”

“It was amazing. The chopper was bigger than I expected. The poor guy we went up to fetch was in a lot of pain, but he was a good passenger.”

I pour coffee in their mugs.

Jack reaches for his cup, takes a gulp and winces as it burns his tongue. “Ow!”

Ruth rolls her eyes at me. “He is such a baby.”

“That was hot ,” Jack says.

“It’s coffee,” she reminds him. “It’s supposed to be hot.” Ruth picks her mug up and takes a sip.

“Not that hot,” he mutters. “It’s like drinking lava.”

I smile at the two of them. They make such a cute couple. It’s like they’re two halves of the same coin.

“So,” Ruth says. “How’s your new transmission coming?”

“Fine, I think. Micah said he’d be done early this week.”

“I’m sure you’ll be glad to have your vehicle running again.”

“Order up!” yells the cook. “Two specials.”

I hand Ruth and Jack their plates. “Enjoy your lunches. Let me know if you need anything.” And then I head out from behind the counter on my way to check on my tables.

As I’m rounding the counter, Michelle walks right into me, bumping me rather hard.

“Sorry, Michelle.” I smile apologetically. “I didn’t see you there.”

She looks me in the eye but doesn’t say a word. I wonder what her problem is as I step around her and continue on my way.

The day passes pretty uneventfully. The only other familiar face I see is the sheriff’s when he stops back in for a late lunch.

“Chris!” Jenny greets him with a smile and a wave.

The sheriff returns her wave and takes a seat at a small table for two. He takes off his hat and sets it on the empty seat across from him. He’s obviously on duty, as he’s dressed in his uniform. I wonder if he’s married. I’m kinda guessing he’s not based on the way his gaze follows Jenny around the diner.

“Hello, sheriff,” I say as I stand beside his table. “What can I get you?”

“Robyn!” He smiles. “Good to see you again. And call me Chris, please. We don’t stand on formality around here.”

“Coffee?”

He nods. “Please.”

I turn over the clean mug at his place setting and pour.

“So, how’s it going?” he asks. “Are you enjoying working at the diner?”

“Absolutely. I’ve waited tables in bigger, more stressful venues. This is a cakewalk in comparison. And Jenny’s a great boss.”

Just as I say Jenny’s name, we hear the sound of her laughter coming from behind the counter. The sheriff leans back in his chair so he can see past me. I glance back to see Jenny talking to Ruth and Jack. The sheriff relaxes.

My curiosity gets the best of me. “So, is there a Mrs. Sheriff?” I ask.

Chris straightens and shakes his head. “Nope. It’s just me.”

Jenny and Ruth burst into laughter, and the sheriff leans back in his chair again so he can see them. “I’ll have a burger and fries,” he says, his attention still on the counter.

Jenny heads over to the sheriff’s table. “Hey, Chris.”

“Jenny,” he says with a nod.

“I’ll go put the sheriff’s order in,” I say, nodding toward the kitchen.

“Chris,” he reminds me. “My friends call me Chris.”

I guess that means he counts me among his friends. As I head for the order window, I glance back one more time to see the sheriff and Jenny in conversation. She’s going on about something, and he listens with rapt attention. And when she finally walks away, his gaze follows her until she disappears into the kitchen.

* * *

When three o’clock rolls around, I head back to the employee lounge to change. But first I need to pee, so I walk into the ladies restroom. Both of the stalls are occupied, so I stand just inside the door, leaning against the wall as I wait my turn.

“I bet you a hundred bucks he’s fucking her.” That’s Michelle’s voice, coming from one of the stalls.

“Of course he is,” another woman says. Cara, I think. “How else did she get the job?”

“She just walks in the place and acts like she’s entitled.” Michelle again. “Everyone fawns over her. The sheriff, Jack, and of course Micah. He’s the only reason Jenny hired her in the first place. To make Micah happy. You know Jenny will do anything Micah asks.”

“So much for overtime hours now,” Cara says. “I was counting on the extra pay for Christmas, but then she walks in and ruins everything.”

I stand frozen to the spot, listening to them and trying to piece together what they’re saying. My heart is hammering now, my pulse throbbing in my neck. A flush of heat rises up my chest and into my face.

One toilet flushes, followed almost immediately by the other. And before I can slip out of the bathroom, one of the stall doors opens and out walks Michelle.

When she spots me, her expression turns to a scowl. “Do you get off eavesdropping on other people’s conversations?” Her voice is sharp.

“What, Michelle?” Cara asks. The door to the second stall opens, and Cara walks out. When she sees me, her eyes widen, and she has the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh.” She gives me a forced smile. “Hi, Robyn. I didn’t hear you come in.”

The sound of rushing blood fills my ears. I turn and walk out of the bathroom, open my locker, whip off my apron, and toss it into my locker. I don’t even bother to change out of my diner T-shirt. I grab my coat and purse before slamming the locker door. I storm out of the break room and head for the front door. I spot Micah’s truck as he pulls up.

When he spots me, he waves and smiles. At least until I push through the door and march right up to his window.

His smile drops as he rolls his window down. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it true? Did Jenny hire me because you asked her to? As a favor to you?”

“Robyn—”

“Don’t Robyn me, Micah. Answer the question. Did you, or did you not, ask Jenny to hire me?”

His expression tightens. “I did.”

At least he’s honest. Why doesn’t that surprise me? “So, she didn’t actually have an opening for a server?”

“She did not.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because you needed a job. I—”

“But Jenny hired an employee she didn’t need. That’s costing her money. I’m costing her money.”

When Micah grimaces, my pulse goes up even higher. “What?”

He winces. “I’m reimbursing her.”

“Wait—what? You’re paying her to hire me? So, in effect, you’re paying my salary?”

He shrugs. “I guess you could put it that way.”

“Oh, my God! So, you’re essentially giving me the money to repay you for the transmission. You’re going to end up paying for the transmission yourself, out of your own pocket.” I know the sound of my voice is escalating, but I can’t help it. “I can’t believe you did that behind my back! What part of no charity did you not understand?”

“Robyn—” His attention shifts to the sidewalk behind me.

I turn to see Ruth standing just a few feet away from us, hands on her hips. “What in the hell is going on out here? I could hear Robyn from inside the bar.”

“It’s complicated,” Micah says.

“It’s really not!” I turn to Ruth. “Your brother is a terrible business person.”

Ruth’s obviously trying not to smile. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” I turn back to Micah. “Please tell Jenny I quit. It’s not her fault—she’s great—but I won’t be a party to this.”

“A party to what?” Ruth asks.

“Your brother asked Jenny to hire me as a server as a favor to him. The other servers hate me for it, and I don’t blame them one bit. I’d hate me, too. And he’s reimbursing her for the cost! That’s why he’s a terrible business person. He was secretly planning to foot the bill for my new transmission himself. That’s nearly two grand, plus there’s the cost of new tires on top of that!”

Ruth makes eye contact with her brother, and the two of them just look at each other. No expressions. Nothing to give away what they’re thinking, and yet I’m pretty sure they understand each other.

“I’ll hire you,” Ruth says. “I actually have an opening. One of my servers gave notice today. The pay is minimum wage, plus tips. The job is yours if you want it. Monday through Friday, 3 to 11.”

“I accept. When can I start?”

“Tomorrow.”

I nod. “Thank you, Ruth.” And then I turn to glare at Micah. “I can’t believe you did this behind my back.”

“Robyn, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

I turn away and start walking.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Home.”

“Robyn, it’s two miles,” he says.

“I don’t care. Maybe by then I’ll cool off.”

As I head for the road, he hollers after me. “Robyn, wait!”

I try my best to drown out the niggling voice in my head that says I’m being unfair to Micah. He was only trying to help me, and it was a very generous thing for him to do. But I’m too angry to back down now. I feel betrayed all over again. First by Ricky, and now by Micah.

I hardly make it a hundred yards down the road when I hear the engine of his pickup trailing behind me. I glance back to find him keeping pace with me. Even now, after I went off on him, he’s still watching out for me. I feel like shit. I’m a terrible, ungrateful person, and I just want to cry.