Page 2 of Tactical Revival

So, unable to do anything other than be here for her, I cross my arms and continue staring straight ahead. Getting involved in personal business—especially the personal business of my best friend’s sister—might be a mistake, but I can’t keep myself from trying to help where I can.

Margot has been more than kind to me. She’s allowed me to stay in the maintenance apartment of the B&B for such low rent it should be criminal, and she cooks me dinner most nights, even though I tell her it’s truly not necessary since I’m just as happy to occupy a booth in the diner.

Truth is, I prefer her company. Which is dangerous. Because the more time I spend with her, the more I want to be around her. The beat of her broken heart haunts me because all I want to do is be the one to put it back together.

The problem is, mine’s in pieces, too.

Clearing my throat, I face her. “What can I do to help?”

“Oh, nothing.” She waves her hand as though she’s dismissing me away. “I’ll get it figured out. I just thought I was done dealing with him when the divorce was final and he took off for good.”

I have no idea what really happened between them, though according to Michael, Chad skipped town one night and never came back. I have my suspicions that there’s more to it and Margot likely doesn’t want to give her older brother any reason to let his temper loose.

The former boxer has a reputation for a reason.

Given that I have my own divorce I try to avoid talking about, I haven’t pressed and have no intentions of doing so. Sometimes bitter business is best left buried.

“Do you have a busy day?” she asks me, then turns and starts walking back toward the path that leads to the B&B.

I follow, even though I wanted to get another few miles in. I sense she needs the company, and since she’s been a friend when I needed one, it seems only fair to return the favor. Then there’s the whole I love her company piece of it.

“Michael and I are headed to Smith Harbor for an install.” The town is about a twenty-minute drive from Hope Springs, and while we didn’t have any business there before, we just picked up a handful of clients after some teens broke into a bunch of neighborhood vehicles.

“You guys have been out there a lot lately.”

“Yeah. We’ve done a couple installs a week for the past two months.”

“Good for business.” She heads up the stairs, then drops her sandals at the top and slips back into them, her coral-colored toenails peeking out of the ends.

“What about you?” I ask.

“The Butlers are checking out today, so I’ll be getting that room ready for the Greys, who will be arriving sometime this evening.”

Her tone is already exhausted. She’d had to let her cleaning lady go last week, so she’s been doing it all. The books. The cleaning. At least Lilly, the local diner owner, and Kyra, our town’s baker and the wife of Pastor Redding, have stepped in to help with providing breakfast until Margot can get someone else hired.

She’s drowning, though, and too proud to ask for a rescue.

“Well, if you need help?—”

“You’ve done plenty for me already,” she interrupts.

“Doesn’t feel that way,” I reply. “Changing out a lightbulb here and there hardly seems fair in exchange for room and board.”

"Trust me, it’s fair to me.” We reach the B&B, so I rush around and pull the door open. Breakfast is in full swing already, with muffins, donuts, and fresh coffee out and set up in the dining room.

After waving at a few of the guests, I follow Margot back into the kitchen where she pours us each a cup of coffee. She pours a bit of creamer, some honey, and a splash of cinnamon into her cup, then turns and leans back against the counter.

“When Chad and I bought this place, he was supposed to handle the maintenance while I ran the rest of it. It was my dream, so when he started to skip certain tasks, I just let it go. I’d felt so guilty for asking for help.” She shakes her head, and my contempt for her ex-husband grows. “Anyways, thank you for your help. And I’m sorry to lay it all on you first thing this morning.”

“Don’t apologize. I hear venting is what friends do for each other.”

She grins at my joke. “I’m worried about how Matty will take it if Chad decides to come around and really does want to start trying to have a relationship with him. Truthfully, they didn’t get along even before Chad bailed. Matty isn’t into football or baseball. He likes to box, but only occasionally when he can get in the ring with Michael. Really, Matty loves to play chess. It’s one of his favorite things to do, and Chad just couldn’t understand why. He told him it was the hobby of a weak man.” She shakes her head angrily. “Who tells their son that?”

“Someone who has a small brain and doesn’t understand the game.”

Margot laughs, the happiest sound I’ve heard from her all morning, and it brings me a dose of joy I hadn’t been expecting. “You know what? He most certainly does have a small brain.” She takes a drink of her coffee.

He’d have to, if he left you both behind. I run a hand over the back of my neck, uncomfortable at the track my thoughts have jumped onto. “I like to play chess, and I’m pretty good, too. So let me know if Matty ever wants a run for his money.”

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