Somehow, Bri had to be okay with that.
She took a deep breath. She couldn’t control it—couldn’t control her parents’ decisions. Couldn’t control the sisters’. And couldn’t control Gerard’s. She could only control her own.
“I understand. Thank you, both. I’m sorry I didn’t take the news better last night.”
Agnes waved her hand in the air dismissively. “It was late, and honestly, that tea was pretty bad.”
“We wanted you to have this.” Mabel handed Bri a piece of paper.
A check. Bri stared at the numbers in the dollar field and blinked. Then blinked again. “How can—this is—”
“Let’s just say Charles was a desperate man.” Agnes winked.
Mabel giggled. “And Agnes here knows how to strike a deal.”
“Seriously.” Agnes shook her head in disgust. “You should have heard what Mabel was going to accept. Someone had to step in.”
“I can’t take this. It’s too much. You guys need it.” Bri slid the check across the table, heart thudding. There was no way she was accepting that much money from two elderly angels.
Mabel immediately slid it back. “If you have one single ounce of respect for either of us, you’ll put this in your purse right now, young lady.”
Bri opened her mouth to protest.
“Use it to take a risk.” Agnes reached over, clamping her warm hand on top of Bri’s.
Bri looked up in surprise at the unusual show of affection.
Agnes’s gaze riveted to hers. “Your mother took a risk going to Paris—and look how that turned out for her. You need to live too.”
“Yes. Don’t be afraid to try.” Mabel put her hand over the two of theirs.
Agnes yanked her palm free. “Stop getting so mushy.”
Mabel bristled. “That’s not mushy. Mushy would be Agnes and Mr. Hanseeeen sitting in a tree . . .” She broke into sing-song.
Agnes glared. “His name is Carl.”
Bri tuned them out, tucking the check inside her pocket. The sisters were right. Gerard had been right. All this time, she’d been so focused on romantic love, she’d never realized how much she was showing love to others in different ways. Never realized how fulfilling it was despite her single status. Real love was sacrifice. Serving.
God was love. And she had to find her identity there. Not in Paris. Not in her parents’ relationship.
And not in her relationship with Gerard.
The door opened, and a gust of wind swooshed in. Mabel grabbed for her mink. Agnes turned abruptly in her chair, and Bri’s heart stuttered.
He hadn’t left.
Gerard stepped just inside the threshold, as if unsure he’d be welcomed.
Bri slowly stood, also unsure if she should welcome him. Her heart and her fears played tug-of-war in her chest.
“Come on, Mabel. Let’s go turn on the ovens.” Agnes grabbed Mabel’s elbow and pulled.
“That’s hardly a two-person job,” Mabel protested as Agnes dragged her away. “How am I supposed to eavesdrop from the kitchen?”
Their voices faded as the kitchen door swung shut behind them.
Gerard approached her cautiously, wearing the black leather jacket he’d worn the first day she saw him, backpack slung over his shoulder. As Agnes had asked on that first day, Bri followed suit. “You needing directions—or a cup of coffee?”
Recognition flickered in his eyes and a half smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t know. Is it any good?”
She shrugged, unable to stop the hope blossoming within. “I hear it’s pretty awful. But I can vouch for the macarons.”
“I can vouch for their baker.” Gerard stopped directly in front of her, and the heat from his body warmed her all the way through, despite the inches separating them. “I’m sorry, Bri. I was wrong.” He winced. “I don’t say those words often enough.”
“No, I was wrong. I should have heard you out.” Bri wrung her fingers together. “I let Sandra get to me, and when you didn’t immediately correct what she’d said, I panicked and assumed the worst.”
“It wasn’t totally inaccurate—but the motivation was. Charles swindled me.” Gerard pushed his hands through his hair. “I figured it out. He knew I wouldn’t keep that money, but he wanted to make sure you eventually found out that I took it. It’s obvious now.”
“That’s why he backed off for that long in the media war, wasn’t it? He had a new strategy to get to me.” Bri shook her head. Dismay filled her chest. “What a rat. And now after all that, he got what he wanted.”
“What do you mean?” Gerard frowned.
“They sold the bakery.” The words still felt foreign on her tongue. “Charles won.”
“Oh man.” Gerard sank into the chair Agnes had vacated. “I’m sorry, Bri.”
“No, you’re not.” She sat in the chair across from him.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting, but you’re right. I do think this is good news. Hard news, but good.”
“That’s what Mabel and Agnes said.” Bri released a slow breath, trying to garner the courage that had carried her this far. “They said I have more to offer, and that I need to fly.” She pulled out the check she’d tucked into her pocket. “Apparently now I have the wings to do so.”
Gerard’s eyes widened. “I’d say so. What are you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know yet.” Bri shrugged. “It’s all still a little . . . surreal.” She bit down on her lower lip. “I really thought you’d left already.”
“I did.” Gerard smirked. “I got about an hour down the road last night, then decided to take Pastor John’s advice and quit being a coward. I came back to the B&B around midnight and prayed until I crashed.” He looked down at his hands. “Also hard, but good.”
“Sounds like it.” Bri’s pulse started a runaway gallop. “Why are you here?” Her voice sunk to a whisper as her fears rode shotgun. Afraid of him leaving. Afraid she already cared too much if he did.
Afraid of the giant unknown future staring at her from all fronts.
“Because I needed you to know that I started off caring
