An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The first two are a pleasant surprise. The next two, not so much.
She is just opening up her shop when the Fraser's stroll in. Her smile is automatic.
“Good morning. How may I help my neighbors?”
Jamie nudges his son. The little boy approaches her.
“Madame Beauchamp, papa and I made you something.” He moves his hands to the front and presents a covered dish.
“Oh, what is this?” Her smile grows and she kneels down to his level.
“We made a chocolate cake and thought you might want some.”
“Fergus is quite the little baker.” Jamie swells with pride.
She looks up at him and their eyes meet. An unspoken feeling is expressed.
“What a treat! I was just thinking about something sweet. Thank you so much.”
She takes the dish from him and places it on her counter.
“I ah we are glad you like it. Thought chocolate would be a safe bet.”
“Most definitely,” the moment deepens. With a flush, she continues, “though, as you are the new neighbor, I owe you a gift.”
“Well,” he expands the word out, “you are all new neighbor too.”
The bell above her door rings, drawing their attention. Immediately, she freezes. The atmosphere changes enough that Fergus moves back to his papa's side. Jamie tenses up as he places his arm around him. His eyes remain on Claire.
“What?” She swallows, her tongue going out to wet her lips, “what are you doing here?”
“What a way to greet a customer.” The man stands, his arm around the little blonde that stands beside him.
“Frank, what do you want?”
“Sandy,” he squeezes the lady beside him, “she is expecting and having a hard time. She wants to use natural remedies. You carry the best so…”
“No. No, absolutely not. Get out.” Her hand is shaking as she lifts it but she keeps it up as she points to the door.
“You are turning down a customer? We plan on having many. Not a smart move, Claire.”
“Get out!” Her voice is shaking.
Jamie and Fergus watch this little exchange. Fergus whispers something in French to his Papa. He nods.
“She has been sick, Claire. I knew you as kinder than this.” He is smirking. It is enough. Jamie moves Fergus to Claire’s side. He then walks over to the other lad.
“She has a right to refuse service to whomever she wants. She has asked you to leave. Now I am.”
“Who are you?” He tries to buck up to him. The task isn't helped by him being a foot smaller than him.
“Someone you don't want to mess with. Walk out. Trust me, as a former police officer, I know what I am talking about. You don't want the actual police here.”
He takes a step closer before the lady pulls him back and speaks for the first time. “Come on Frank. It isn't worth it.”
They walk out. Jamie watches until they get back into their car and pull off.
He then turns back towards Claire. Fergus has his arms wrapped around her. She is trying to smile but her lips are shaking.
“Mate of yours?” He raises his eyebrows. As he hoped, she starts to laugh.
“I don't think so papa.” Fergus is frowning. He loves this age and the straight black and white way he sees life.
“Nor do I.” He grins at him.
“Your papa was trying to make me laugh.” Claire explains as her giggles die down.
“He is my ex. The nerve of him to bring her here.” The rage is building again.
“Some men are just fools. You handled it well.”
“Thank you.” His words help defuse the anger. It is exactly what she needs to hear.
“He is a cocky man, wanting to show off to you. He knows he made a mistake, that Madame Beauchamp is much better quality than the other lass.” Fergus adds.
Her heart melts and becomes his. She kneels down and hugs him.
“Would you join us for tea tonight?” Jamie asks. They need to discuss Frank.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
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