Page 15 of Until We Break

The man chuckled. “No. You need to pay for it. I had to pay for extra weight on the ferry. This wasn’t a free delivery.”

“Pay for it? I don’t want it. Take it back.” I stood close enough to him I could see the sweat rolling down the side of his neck. I took a step backward. There wasn’t money to pay for anything.

“This is an order for crushed dirt. You’ve got crushed dirt. You have to pay for it. I can’t just haul it back. I’ll have to pay double to go on the ferry again.”

“That’s not my fault. No. I’m not going to accept this. My uncle ordered it. He’s dead and I don’t want it.” I blinked as the words came out of my mouth.

The dump truck driver looked surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

I nodded. “Yeah. He died, so can you just take this away? Please.” I decided to soften my tone in case that worked. “Maybe we can work something out for the ferry fee.” Although, I had no idea what that would be. I didn’t have extra money to spend.

He removed his hat. “I’m sorry. Real sorry.”

“Thank you.”

There was an awkward silence that followed. “I’ll see what I can do about this order. Give me a minute.”

I waited while he climbed into the driver’s seat and made a call. All I could think about was how much money I had spent today at the Reel Shop and how quickly I would burn through what was in my account. I didn’t have money for something that would shut down the operating part of the marina.

I was playing on his sympathies about Uncle Walt’s death, but I was desperate for him to drive away without leaving me a bill.

A few minutes later he poked his head out of the window. “I’ve got it taken care of.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes. We feel bad that Walt passed, and we didn’t know. I’m sorry, again, Miss.”

I stepped away from the huge tires and he drove out of the gravel lot. I finally let out the breath I was holding in. I didn’t know how to afford to survive in the marina and at the same time, I needed it to make money. What the hell was I going to do about either?

“Oh shit!” I had milk and eggs in the car. I turned to find Dean lugging bags from the backseat. When had he arrived?

“You don’t need to do that,” I argued against the gesture.

“Looks like you could use a hand.” He smiled, carrying them into the cottage. I cursed under my breath and trudged in after him.

“You really don’t have to help with my groceries.”

Dean had begun to unpack them on the counter. I had to stop him. It felt as important as stopping the driver of the dump truck.

“Stop!” My voice echoed in the kitchen.

He looked up. “I’m sorry?”

I sighed. “It’s been a long morning. Okay?” I leaned into the counter with my palms. I felt the ache in my backside. I limped to the freezer for ice.

“I saw how you handled that delivery.”

“And you didn’t come over to help?

He chuckled. “It didn’t seem like you needed rescuing, but I was ready to throw around a few cease-and-desist threats if it came to that.”

I couldn’t help the smile. “Oh, really?”

“I told you I would help, Margot. I meant it.”

“You mean help me sell the Blue Heron?” I stared at the empty ice trays. Damn it. I grabbed a bag of mixed vegetables and pressed them against my ass.

Dean’s eyebrows rose, watching me sink into the relief from the frozen vegetables.

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