And dammit, if I was going to be the one to stand in her way.
“Hey, Stan. Morning, Carter.” I waved at some of the guys from my crew as I made my way to the main office. Things seemed oddly quiet on the site today, but maybe some of my staff had picked up whatever Stella just got over as it seemed to be going around.
Walking into the office, my gaze was pulled toward my mom sitting at her desk. The spark of hope that lit her face the lasttime we chatted about business was gone as she grimaced at her computer.
“Hey, Mom,” I greeted as I walked in, startling her from her work as she tried to bring that smile back to her face.
“Hey, baby. I’m sorry, things are going to be a little extra busy for the next few weeks. Frank, Carsen, and Oscar all quit this morning.”
What the fuck?Three of my staff quitting on the same day wasn’t normal. All three of them had been newer members of the crew so I didn’t feel betrayed like I might if I had lost someone like Stan, who had been working here since my dad owned it. But it still didn’t make any sense.
“What reason did they give?”
“Just that they had another opportunity waiting for them that they couldn’t pass up. They moved over the weekend.”
So they didn’t just quit, but theylefttown entirely. Interesting. At least I knew it wasn’t for competition in the area or something like that. Guess I would just have to pull up my sleeves and put in some extra hours. Hard work never worried me, quite often I craved it.
Mom and I chatted about the next few jobs on the list, and I headed out to meet the crew, maybe they’d know a little more about what had gone on.
Carter was the first one I saw when I left the office and made my way to the yard. “Hey, man, do you know anything about where the crew went off to? New job offer, or something?”
“Fuck if I know,” he growled under his breath.
I had chatted with Carter a couple times since our initial incident when I had to talk with him about his extended lunch breaks. I figured we had squashed whatever bad blood was between us, but maybe I had read things wrong. “You didn’t get the call?”
“No, I didn’t get the fucking call,” he snapped and turned to walk toward the barn where we kept all our tools. My gazecaught on a bandage on the top of his hand that led up his arm, under the cuff of his jacket. It looked like he had added some new ink recently to his sleeves of tattoos. “Wish I had. Would have left this shithole in a heartbeat if I could.”
I almost stopped him, but when I heard him mutter something under his breath about Blaire, I couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. I could only assume to know about the headache he was still dealing with when it came to his ex. But he was showing up to work and doing everything he needed to during the day, so I let him go and went off to get started on my own workday instead.
“It was a pretty nice amount he offered, but my family is here. I couldn’t move to the States. I wouldn’t want to anyhow.” I was grateful for the information Stan had given me while we worked on processing the trees from today’s job. The early November snow may have been starting to make an appearance, but there was still work to be done before we got the big dumps.
“I appreciate it, man. Did they say what the company name was?”
“Nah, just some place down in Utah.”
That made me turn my head and file a mental note to talk to Patrick about it later. Weird.
Apparently, someone had called the crew with talks of a new company starting up across the border, offering a pretty penny for those who decided to make the move and help with the start up. I couldn’t blame the guys for taking the offer, itwasa niceamount, and I tried not to let the shame take over me for me not being able to pay my guys the same thing.
It hadn’t been the first time we’d experienced cold calls like this, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. I wasn’t too worried, though, we’d fill the spots on the crew eventually and we were coming into our quieter working but higher profit months with winter on the horizon.
Our farm was slowly making the switch from processing lumber to supplying Christmas trees for our little community and surrounding area. We were known for our balsam fir and Scots pine evergreens, and people would travel for miles to pick up their annual tree from us.
Grandma Trixie loved to transform the farm into a winter wonderland so while we had our work cut out for us in November for set up, December would be smooth sailing, and I was grateful for it. Maybe it would be a blessing in disguise with not having to pay three wages going into this season and we could end the year in the green.
“Hey, Pat,” I greeted my friend by passing him a Diet Coke as he arrived at the bar. I called him after I finished chatting with Stan, and we agreed to meet up at Heartstrings after work.
“Thanks,” he said as he threw his winter jacket onto the chair beside us and took a big swig of his drink. Pat may not drink alcohol anymore, but he downed that crispy Diet Coke like it would give him the release he was looking for.
“Tough day?”
“Ah, just the same old small town shit. Stewarts are mad about the Watts cows taking down their fenceagain.”
I chuckled. Those two families were always at each other’s throats, ever since the Stewarts’ son got the Watts’ daughter pregnant. Life could be tough for some people in a small town when your best friend, who also happened to be your neighbour, quickly turned into your worst enemy but also your in-laws. It made me particularly thankful for the way my family consistently showed up for each other.
And Patrick was a part of that family.
“So, what’s this about losing some of your guys to Utah?”
