Kind of like people, I mused. People need time to set their roots deep, so the storms of life don’t destroy them. Like a tree, planted by streams of water…I caught myself. I had a tendency to assign some sort of spiritual significance to everything in life, which is usually a good thing, I think. But I could also quickly slide into over-thinking things, which led to self-recrimination or fear or any number of other unpleasant thoughts if I allowed it.
“Callie!”
I jumped and turned quickly, the hose dribbling lukewarm water over my foot. Awesome. At least I was wearing sandals.
Todd Whitney strode up to me. “I’m glad you’re up and about. I ran by to check on you.”
Really? Did EMS usually provide such personal service?
I looped my hair behind my ear and smiled at him. “Thank you, Todd. That was sweet of you.”
“How’s your head this morning?” He moved to stand in the shade of the pecan tree.
He had a little bit of dark scruff and his uniform was slightly rumpled, like he was getting off work. He’d probably been on duty this whole time, while I was home sleeping. Or rather, not sleeping. I winced. I probably should report the person-in-the-attic situation. But I did not want to deal with Sheriff Earl again, truth be told.
“Do you want to come in for a minute?” I asked impulsively. “I was going to have a cup of tea.” Maybe I could talk to him about the sheriff for a minute. Something was not right about this whole thing.
“Hot tea?” He raised his eyebrows. “It’s got to be 100 degrees out.”
I shrugged. “But it’s not hot inside. I have a few water bottles in the fridge, though, if you want something cold.”
“I’m headed home now.” He lifted his baseball cap off then resettled it. “But I’ll take you up on the water bottle. It’s a little bit of a drive.”
I turned off the hose, and Todd followed me inside. I winced at the screeeech-bang of the screen door. “I’ve got to get that fixed,” I muttered.
The pugs hurried over to greet Todd, yipping and snorting around his feet.
“Hey, who are these little guys?” he asked, bending to pet them.
He liked dogs. That was good.
What? You’d think I was attracted to him or something.
“The fawn is Purl, and the little black one is Intarsia,” I said.
“Purl, as in knitting?” He glanced around my store.
I was delighted that he had made the connection. Many people didn’t; thinking I meant “Pearl” if they didn’t see it spelled out.
“Yes,” I said. “And intarsia is a knitting technique, too,” I added.
“Very clever.” He grinned at me, his warm eyes sparkling.
My heart did a weird flip-flop, and I dropped my gaze from his. What was wrong with me this morning? A rock to the head sure could do strange things to a person.
“Let me get you that water bottle,” I murmured, digging in the mini-fridge I kept behind my counter. When I re-emerged, Todd had moved to examine my African violet display.
“You have a beautiful store.” He gently fingered a fuzzy leaf of my “Beau” violet. The rare Russian hybrid was in full bloom right now, the flowers a glorious fuchsia with ruffled golden edges. “My mother was a plant-lover, too.”
I didn’t miss the word was, or the wistful tone of his voice. But I barely knew the man.
“Yes, I’ve always loved to grow plants—especially flowers. At one point, I considered becoming a botanist, but God had other plans for my life, I guess.” At least, I hoped He did…
He took a swig of water. “You moved from the Midwest somewhere?”
“Ohio.”
“I’ve been there a couple of times visiting relatives. Been years, though,” he said. “What brought you to Short Creek?”
Ah, the inevitable question. I never knew quite how to answer it. Nothing in life had turned out the way I expected? My husband was killed, and then my career was destroyed? I needed a place to heal? I was desperate to put the past behind me? God led me here?
All true, but most people didn’t truly want to know all of that. So I usually mentioned I had family down here, and then followed that up with a smile and a flippant remark about how I was very tired of shoveling snow. For most folks, that was enough.
But somehow, looking into this pair of intelligent blue eyes, I sensed that Todd Whitney was someone I could trust.
“I needed a place to rest,” I offered.
A kindred spirit, someone who had also weathered a few of life’s more difficult storms, would immediately recognize my words for what they were—the tiniest crack in the wall around my heart—the barest invitation to engage in something beyond the casual.
His gaze softened, and I knew I had pegged him correctly.
I plucked a yellowing leaf off the philodendron that draped itself over my counter. “My Aunt Dot has been trying to convince me to move down for years, and when she offered me the house, it confirmed what I had been praying about.”
“Dot Murray?” he asked, smiling.
He knew my aunt?
Well, of course he did. I guess I wasn’t used to a small community yet, where everyone knew everyone else and half the town was related to each other.
I smiled back at him. “Yes, sir.”
“She’s a real firecracker. I’ve missed seeing her at church since she had to move to Willowbough.”
I could hear his fondness for her in his voice.
“She’s learning to ‘do technology,’ as she calls it,” I said. “She told me she’s going to email me soon, once the tech guy over there at Willowbough teaches her how.”
He laughed out loud. “Really? Somehow, I can picture her doing that. I didn’t know they offered technology classes there.”
“Yeah, a guy named Brandon is teaching the class. You’ll have to come visit her with me sometime.” Oh, dear. I hadn’t said that out loud, had I?
Uh oh. I had definitely spoken out loud, and it was definitely the wrong thing to say because Todd’s face had immediately darkened into a scowl.
“Brandon Delacourte? I remember him being a computer geek, but he doesn’t seem like the type to work with seniors.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know his last name. I’ve never even met him.” But I would, if Aunt Dot had her way. I sighed inwardly.
“I hope you never do. If Delacourte is back in town, I’d give him a wide berth.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I’d better get on my horse, Callie. I’ve been up for going on twenty-four hours straight.”
I walked with him to the door, Intarsia trailing behind us. “Thanks again for coming to check on me.”
He bent down to finger Intarsia’s black, velvety little ears, then stood and looked me in the eye. “I was hoping maybe we could talk for a minute about the other day, when you are feeling better.”
Which other day? The one where I found a dead body, or the one where I almost was a dead body?
I gulped.
“I’d like to go over with you again what happened the morning you called about the man and the package.” He searched my eyes.
I nodded. I had kind of been expecting to be grilled again, but I thought Sheriff Earl would do that, not Todd. In my experience, EMTs were not sent to do crime investigation. But this was a small town, so maybe a few of the first responders did double-duty jobs.
“Would you mind giving me your cell phone number?” he asked.
I gave it to him, feeling the adrenaline kick into my system. I wasn’t ready to think about the whole situation again, much less talk about it.
He must have seen me starting to tremble, because he pressed me down into the rocking chair by the door and squatted in front of me. He reached for my hand. “I’m sorry to upset you, Callie,” he said. “You seemed like you were handling things okay this morning, or I wouldn’t have mentioned the case to you today.”
I willed my legs to stop shaking, but they wouldn’t obey. Ever since Kev’s car crash, my body had rea
cted to sudden anxiety in ways I wouldn’t have predicted. I hadn’t experienced the nerve twitches in my legs for a long time, not until the other morning.
The morning.
And now, when I was merely thinking about having to talk about discovering the body. I closed my eyes for a moment, and clung to Todd’s big hand like it was a lifeline. My legs vibrated like I was in one of those dumb massage chairs at the mall.
“It’s going to be all right,” he whispered.
It’s going to be all right.
I took a deep breath. Those were the same words she had said to me. I was sitting in the back pew of the church the day of Marleigh’s funeral, trying to work up the courage to actually walk up the aisle to where the rest of the preschool staff was sitting. Marleigh had not only been in my care at my preschool; she was a beautiful little person with her whole life in front of her.
I sat in the shadows of the back pew and wept. I couldn’t believe I had to endure another funeral for a person I loved. Losing Marleigh wasn’t the same as being robbed of my husband, but it was still a deep, aching loss. A tragic death that shouldn’t have been.
And it was my fault.
Someone slid into the pew and sat down close beside me. Closer than I would have liked. I scooched away an inch or two, needing space. But the woman’s perfume wafted over to me; a light, beautiful scent unlike anything I had experienced before.
It made me think of…of sunlit meadows…of flowers, more beautiful than any I had ever seen or could ever imagine.
It made me think of—Heaven.
My tears slowed, and I blew my nose. After a moment, I turned to see who was next to me. It was a lovely older woman; someone whom I couldn’t recall ever meeting before—yet there was something familiar about her. She reached out a soft hand to cup my cheek and smiled into my eyes.
“It’s going to be all right,” she whispered.
It’s going to be all right.
That was all she said, but I nodded, feeling peace flood through me somehow. I closed my eyes for a long moment, simply breathing in the scent of Heaven.
When I opened my eyes, she was gone.
But Todd was still here, squeezing my hand and looking at me anxiously.
I drew in a deep breath. “I’ll be okay.” I pulled my hand free to dash away an unwanted tear. “Just…pray for me, okay?”
He stood, and it seemed that he towered above me.
“I will, Callie,” he said, and I knew he would.
He seemed to start to say something else, then stopped. “I’ll be in touch, okay? Make sure you take care of yourself. Maybe an extra cup of tea today with a pug on your lap.”
That sounded good to me. My morning cup was long overdue.
I had pulled myself together by the time Lonnie and Jenna arrived to talk wedding flowers. I’m not usually a huggy kind of person, but I didn’t step away when Lonnie threw her arms around me.
“Oh, Callie! I’ve been praying for you. Are you sure you’re up to doing this today?”
I nodded. “How much have you heard?”
She glanced at her daughter, who had already gravitated to my big albums of wedding ideas. “We should probably talk later,” she said. A frown marred her perfectly made-up face. “Rick says that the sheriff—”
“Mom, look at this!” Jenna called.
We both joined her at the counter, and I peered over her shoulder to see.
“Where did you get these cool old pictures, Callie?” she asked.
“I’ve collected old wedding pictures for years. Wedding styles are always changing, but the old styles always come back into fashion,” I explained. “Some brides like to look at these pictures to get ideas for retro wedding themes.”
“Well, I’m not too into that kind of thing.” She flipped to the next page. “I’m looking for something simpler than that.”
A girl after my own heart.
“Do you already have ideas?” I had found through experience that usually a bride already had an idea of what she wanted, and no amount of suggestion would change that. It was only a matter of her finding the right image to give me a concrete idea.
“The wedding will be at SCCC, of course,” Lonnie said, referring to our church. “Would you also be able to handle the decorating for the reception? We’ve already reserved the Rose Arbor Ranch in Salado.”
“How many people?” I couldn’t believe I was contemplating saying yes. I was a florist, not a decorator. I could design beautiful arrangements, but I usually left it up to other more creative people to know how to combine my arrangements with all of the other elements it took to create the beautiful display for an entire event.
But truthfully, I could use the money, and besides, I was a smart person. How difficult could it be to find ideas online and then duplicate them?
More difficult than I had thought. A day later, I was up to my chin in raffia, moss, lace and vintage candelabras. And I was definitely not as adept with a hot glue gun as I thought I was.
I called Mona in as emergency help.
“This is so fun!” she said, happily gluing tiny wildflowers onto a bed of moss.
I raised my eyebrows at her. “It’s fun if you’re making one miniature terrarium,” I said. “Not twenty-five!”
She laughed at me.
As it turns out, what Jenna had termed as “simple” was actually “a woodsy shabby-chic feel with subtle Marie Antoinette-inspired details,” as I read later on the website she had shared with me. I’m not sure I even knew what that meant, but the pictures were gorgeous.
“Any idea where I could find old sheet music?” I asked Mona now as I scraped a dot of solidified glue off the counter.
She wrinkled her forehead. “For what?”
I showed her the pictures of the centerpieces featuring sheet music displayed with various candelabras, bouquets, and lace—on moss of course. “Jenna and her fiancée are both musicians. She wants to have a music theme.”
“A music theme? I thought she was having a princess, woodsy thing.” Mona dug through the bag of pinecones. “You know, like Snow White or something.”
I pictured short, blond, chubby Jenna Jones as Snow White. Nope, not even close. “Snow White has music in it,” I said.
“What? Like heigh-ho, heigh-ho; off to work we go?” Mona scoffed. “That’s not wedding music.”
I sighed. What about “Someday My Prince Will Come”? And how exactly did we get from creating wedding decorations to discussing the Seven Dwarfs?
“At least she’s found her Prince Charming.” Wow. How had that slipped out?
“What?” Mona snapped to attention like Purl did when she heard the word “treat.”
“Nothing,” I said. “Keep gluing.”
Houston never called. I couldn’t decide how I felt about that. Not that I had been hoping he would, exactly, but I was kind of intrigued about him asking if he could. I was even more intrigued when I saw him pull away from Sherm’s house that evening with a dark-haired young woman in the passenger seat. Nicole.
I called Mona. “Does Sherm attend Houston’s church?”
“Sherm Grant? Nah, not any more. He doesn’t go much of anywhere these days, does he?”
“No. Not really.”
Sherm did own a beat-up Plymouth that looked like it was about fifty years old, but I hadn’t ever seen him drive it. So how did he get groceries? Or visit the doctor? I was embarrassed to think I hadn’t thought about it until now.
“Why?”
“Why what?” Why was I so selfishly unobservant? Why was Houston picking up Sherm’s drop-dead gorgeous granddaughter? Why—
“Callie. Are you okay?”
I blew out a sigh. “Too many questions right now. I’ll tell you later, okay?”
I had decided not to tell Aunt Dot about the rock incident, but it seems she had heard about it anyway.
“Callie,” she said as I came through her door that afternoon. “Are you okay, honey?
Something about her
looks different, I thought as I plopped into the chair next to her.
“I’m fine, Aunt Dot.” I picked some glue off my thumbnail. I should probably tell her about hearing someone in my attic. But I didn’t want her to be any more worried than she already was.
She shook her head and pushed her glasses further up on her nose. “I can’t believe you had to go to the hospital and you didn’t call me!”
“I didn’t want to worry you.” I stared at her hair. Maybe that was what was different.
“You know better than that,” she said. “I don’t worry. I pray.” She squinted at me. “There’s a difference, darlin’.”
I know. But the problem is sometimes my prayers and my worry were all wrapped up together, and I forgot that the Lord told us to rest in Him. The resting and the trusting part were hard to come by sometimes.
“I know, Auntie.”
“Brandon showed it to me in the Star,” she said, adjusting her glasses again.
I grimaced. I had hoped she wouldn’t see the news article.
“Did you get new glasses, Aunt Dot?”
She looked puzzled. “No. But somehow, they don’t feel right today. Things seem a little fuzzier than normal.”
“Maybe it’s time for an eye exam.”
She nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “I couldn’t see as well to type today,” she said. “But Harry said—”
Harry? Oh, the gentleman “down the hall” who sold stuff on Facetwitter. I grinned, taking in my aunt’s suddenly rosy cheeks.
“What did Harry say?” I asked innocently.
“Oh, nothing.” She studied her fingernails. “How was church on Sunday?”
I laughed to myself. “It was fine. Oh, by the way, Todd Whitney says to say hi to you.”
“Todd?” Her face lit up. “He’s such a precious young man. Such a shame about his family and all.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I didn’t want to encourage anything that could be construed as gossip. Not that Aunt Dot would gossip, but I preferred to get to know a person without having preconceived ideas.
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