Out of the Blue Bouquet (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  Brooke shook her head. She had nothing left. He had challenged and met every argument. She had even pushed him away with her hurtful anger, and still, he came back, asking her to give him a chance.

  And in the end, the fear was too much.

  “Goodbye, Dylan,” she whispered, turning to hurry away.

  But he caught her arm. And before her next breath, his lips were on hers. She melted into him as his arms came around her. His kiss wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t demanding either. It was insistent, as if he wanted to make sure she understood what he felt while also exploring what she felt in return.

  And her heart met his fully. There was no hesitation. All arguments fell flat, and every reason she should turn and run scattered like the final leaves of fall. She kissed him back with every ounce of her being. It was a moment her heart had been waiting for, but one she also knew would never be repeated.

  Brooke’s hat fell off as Dylan’s fingers buried themselves in her hair. Her response only fueled his more, and Brooke realized he may never let her go. If she just relaxed into him just a little, she somehow knew the ferocity of the kiss would mellow to be less urgent. But, if that happened, Brooke knew there would be no going back. She could not accept his love and walk away.

  She teetered on the edge, longing to be his, and yet…

  Brooke ripped her lips away from his.

  “I’m sorry!” She gasped. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  Then she turned and ran away, not looking back even once.

  “Did you see this?” Tylee squealed, plopping a newspaper down on the desk in front of Brooke.

  Brooke couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I did. I had no idea Aimee was going to do that. She did an amazing job!”

  It was early morning at Brooke’s new shop, and the article Tylee was touting was one that had been in yesterday’s local paper. It had been submitted by Aimee Maxwell, the woman who had accidentally been sent a bouquet from her deceased mother. Instead of an article describing the hurt and outrage of such a mistake, Aimee wrote about the blessing of receiving flowers from her mom on her birthday. She firmly believed that the mistake was not by accident and took it as a special gift from heaven. While the article did explain how the mistake had happened due to the florist reprinting the orders from the wrong year, it only served to paint Brooke in a good light. According to Aimee, it was a mistake that could have happened to anyone, and yet it was used by God to bring blessing in an extraordinary way. It was a beautifully penned article and one that absolved Brooke of any wrongdoing.

  Tylee’s excitement didn’t die down even a little as she continued to practically dance around the room “People are talking about it everywhere, even in Brighton Falls! The newspaper says the article is going viral, and they are fielding requests from national news programs! You may even get to be interviewed on national TV!”

  Brooke laughed. “I doubt it. If anyone will be interviewed, it will be Aimee. It’s a lovely story and a lovely article. I am beyond thankful that she did what I could not. Maybe my reputation will be sewn back together after this!”

  “I’ll say!” Tylee said. “It looks like the answering machine is full, and I haven’t even checked the online orders! But if any news programs or talk shows call, then I’m taking off to do the interview, even if you don’t come with me!”

  Brooke hadn’t yet had a chance to relax and think things through since the newspaper came out yesterday, but she had a feeling that once she did, she would be in tears. God had arranged for her defense when she hadn’t been able to defend herself. By signing that nondisclosure document, Brooke hadn’t been able to tell anyone her side of the story, but Aimee had managed to do that by detailing the steps it took for the mistake with her bouquet to happen. Brooke had touched base with Aimee several times since their initial conversation, but the other woman seemed to have even more information than what Brooke had ever dispensed. Though her friend had mentioned nothing, Brooke strongly suspected that Tylee had been more than willing to share information with Aimee in Brooke’s stead.

  God had not only fit the pieces of the puzzle together to get Aimee her bouquet, He’d also miraculously given Brooke the business of her dreams and arranged to exonerate her reputation.

  “What do you think?” Brooke asked, holding up a sign she’d just finished painting. She’d gotten to work early to finish it. Now, while it dried, she’d get her actual workday started.

  “I love it,” Tylee said.

  “Of course, I ordered a large sign to face the road. It should be here in a few days. But I’ll put this one by the front door.”

  “It really is perfect, Brooke,” Tylee said happily, examining the sign from every angle. “I’m really glad you didn’t just call the shop “Crossroads Floral.” This is a much better, more creative name that completely fits.”

  Brooke smiled. “‘The Out of the Blue Bouquet.’ Most people won’t know the history of accidental orders that got us started, but even then, it’s still a cute name that fits. I like it, even if nobody else does.”

  Brooke reached down and lovingly brushed a stray shard off the sign. It was a simple sign made of barn wood given to her by Celeste Davenport. Brooke had painted the name with fancy black and white letters and intermingled them with tiny blue forget-me-nots. Brooke couldn’t help but smile when she looked at it. The sign, and the name itself, served as a reminder that God was bringing a whole lot of good out of a bad situation.

  “Now that the sign is done, we’d better get to work!” Brooke said, cleaning up her paint and brushes before walking over to the answering machine. “Are you ready?” she asked Tylee.

  Situating herself at the computer with her document open, Tylee nodded. “This first time through, I will take notes and write down all the contact numbers. Then we’ll listen to everything again so we can check it all before making the callbacks.”

  Tylee was actually quite competent if given specific instructions and the resources to be able to accomplish her tasks. She was excellent with using the computer and was an extremely fast typist.

  There had been no question in Brooke’s mind that she would hire Tylee to be her employee, and thankfully, her friend had immediately said yes. Brooke needed help since there was no way she could manage the shop, create the arrangements, and make the deliveries. Even with just two of them, it was going to be difficult to handle all the work, but until the shop started producing a good income, Tylee was all she could afford. She was just thankful that the younger woman had jumped at the chance of working at Brooke’s shop.

  The last two weeks had been busy with getting everything set up. Tylee had been a godsend and helped with all tasks, from painting, to decorating, to helping create some of their handmade products on display. This was only their third official day open. With it also being the day after Aimee’s article appeared in the newspaper, Brooke seemed to have turned from villain to hero in the eyes of the public, and their orders were piling in.

  Brooke paid attention for the first few messages, but then her mind drifted back over the past few weeks, and suddenly a cloud drifted over her good mood. The only thing that hadn’t gone well was the situation with Dylan. Brooke didn’t even know if you could term it a “situation” because she hadn’t actually talked to him since she left him at Trinity Pond. In all likelihood, her refusal had finally gotten through to Dylan, and he had given up on her and moved on.

  And the really sad part about that was that Brooke had spent the last two weeks regretting her actions. Attending church had only made it worse when a disappointed little girl in her class had asked eagerly where Mr. Masters was. She hated seeing the disappointment on Jaycee’s face, and she hated, even more, knowing that Dylan wasn’t there because of Brooke.

  With a little time and distance, she realized she had treated Dylan horribly. He had been simply asking for a chance, and though she cared about him deeply, she was too choked by fear to respond the way her heart longed for her to.

  He
r mind had played the “what if” game nearly constantly in the past two weeks. What if she would have stayed in his arms? What if she had done as he asked and given them a chance to be a couple?

  In all honesty, she still didn’t know if she could do it. There was no logical reason for her to refuse Dylan. With his faith commitment, he seemed paperwork perfect, but the fear was still overwhelming at times. She knew that her past experiences with her boyfriends, along with her inferiority issues, had left her damaged in some ways. Though she knew in her head that it didn’t make sense, it felt like she was dealing with a phobia, and she didn’t know that she would ever overcome it, even if she desperately wanted to.

  She had gone over and over that evening by the pond, chiding herself and wishing she'd dared to do things differently. It was likely too late now. Brooke had repeatedly tried to call Dylan, but she’d never gotten a response. She knew he was traveling. From his social media posts, it looked like he had spent nearly all of the last two weeks in Seattle. She’d seen pictures of him smiling by the Space Needle, and with a happy group of others on a ferry in the Puget Sound. In a few of the pictures he’d posted, there seemed to be several women looking his way with admiration, and Brooke was sure that by this time, he’d likely found someone else who was more than willing to be his girlfriend.

  Knowing that it was too late, knowing that she probably wouldn’t be able to get past her fear anyway, and knowing that even if she did, Dylan would inevitably hurt her, she still let her mind drift all too often to the few moments when she was in his arms at the pond. She relived the sensations of feeling his arms around her and recognized that she had never felt more of a sense of belonging than she’d felt then. She tasted his warm lips on hers and felt an almost physical ache of her heart.

  Suddenly, the message playing on the answering machine sent up a red flag that penetrated the fog of Brooke’s memories. “What was that?” she asked, coming back to the present to push the stop button on the machine. Then she pressed the repeat button and listened carefully.

  “Hi, this is Brittany, and, well, um… I was wondering if you could give me a call back. I was interested in sending some flowers to someone, but I kinda want it to be one of those accidents, like you did a while ago. I mean, I’ll pay for it and everything, but I don’t really want to claim responsibility for it, if that makes sense. Anyway, I can try to explain it better when you call me back.”

  Brooke started laughing before the girl could give her phone number. “Tylee, did you hear that? This lady wants me to pretend to make an accidental order.”

  Tylee laughed, “I heard that message the first time through, but I didn’t know what she was talking about. What do you think? Can we do that?”

  “No!” Brooke said, shaking her head adamantly. “I’m not going into the business of accidental orders. If Brittany wants to send a blank card or say that the flowers are from a secret admirer, we can do that. We just can’t deal with accidents, either pretend or real!”

  Tylee had Brooke press the repeat button one more time so she could write down the callback number, and then she announced, “Ok, Brooke, I think I’m done,” Tylee said. “I’ll print out your list of callbacks.”

  “Ok, thanks,” Brooke said. “I’ll get started.”

  She sighed and walked over to the printer to retrieve the paper. In spite of the humorous last message, she was still trying to shake off the last visages of memories to focus on the task at hand. Every time her mind drifted to Dylan, she’d wonder the same thing: Maybe Dylan was right. The past two weeks without him had been more miserable than she could imagine they ever could be with him.

  Brooke picked up the paper and made herself focus enough to start calling. Midway through the list, she vaguely realized that Tylee had stopped working at the computer long enough to tell a UPS driver where to put a delivery of packages.

  After getting the information for an order, Brooke hung up and dialed the first numbers of the last person on the list, when Tylee stopped her.

  “Hey, Brooke? Do you have any idea what this box is?” she asked. “It doesn’t seem to be from the same company or look like your other boxes of supplies.” She turned the long, thin box around in her hands. “It’s for Dylan!” she exclaimed.

  Brooke hurried over. “What do you mean?”

  “It says, ‘Dylan Masters and Brooke Hutchins’ in the recipient box!”

  Brooke took the box from Tylee and saw that her friend was correct. She looked at it carefully as she took it over to the counter and realized it was from one of those online florist companies that do their own shipping.

  She cut the tape open with scissors and pulled back the flaps to reveal twelve long stem roses and a vase well-cushioned inside. While Tylee was oohing and ahhing over the assortment of pastel roses, Brooke carefully inspected the packaging, figuring out how the company had managed to so effectively ship it.

  Tylee picked up the instructions and hurried to pour water in the vase while Brooke found the card. As soon as she saw it, Brooke grinned, instantly knowing the purpose of the bouquet. A small picture had been digitally printed to go along with the message on the cardstock. It was the picture of a smiling woman with russet-colored hair and a man with glasses who looked like he’d just won the lottery.

  To Dylan: Please consider this your ‘in-your-face-bouquet.’

  To Brooke: Thank you.

  Tylee, of course, wanted all the details, which Brooke explained as best she could. But the retelling of a crazy ex-girlfriend who had managed to find her own happy ending didn’t quite compare to the first-hand experience with Judge Janice Thornton.

  It was a story that Celeste might actually appreciate more than Tylee. Brooke had kept in touch with Celeste since they first met in November. Even before Brooke had mentioned Janice in one of their conversations, Celeste had already heard plenty about the colorful judge from Dylan. Brooke made a mental note to tell Celeste about Janice’s flowers when she visited the farm this weekend. Though she was still nervous about Celeste’s invitation to go for a ride with Jezebel, she also thought that a trip to the farm and a visit with her friend might be exactly what she needed to get her mind off some memories that wouldn’t leave her alone.

  That, or it could remind her of when she had first gone there with Dylan.

  Brooke sighed, her momentary delight over Janice’s flowers now snuffed out again by her thoughts that ever magnetized to the one she really needed to forget.

  So Brooke did the only thing she knew that would make her thoughts less painful, she threw herself into work so that she would have no spare time or energy to think of Dylan. She finished her callbacks, finally calling the woman who was requesting an accidental order. After explaining the options that were available, the woman opted for a blank card. Though curious as to the story of why she desired to send flowers secretly and to whom, Brooke resisted the urge to ask and just took the information for the order.

  Several hours later, Brooke looked at the clock and realized it was past lunchtime. She and Tylee had both been working hard taking multiple orders, organizing supplies, working on the shop itself, and filling today’s orders. Brooke put the last few flowers in place in a bouquet and pronounced that all the orders were ready for delivery.

  “Why don’t you go grab some lunch, Tylee, and then you can make the deliveries,” Brooke said.

  “Brooke, I think we have a problem,” she said, her face intent on the computer in front of her.

  Concerned, Brooke hurried over to where Tylee sat at the desk. They’d already processed the online orders for the day, so Brooke didn’t understand what the problem could be. Though she had a few items besides flowers available on her online shop, there shouldn’t be any problem with those. Both Brooke and Tylee had taken the time to learn the ins and outs of the programs they used, and Tylee was very good with computers. So far, they had placed all non-local orders online without a hitch, and the orders from her personal shop were completely separate.
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br />   The disturbing thing was that if Tylee thought there was a problem, there likely was.

  “How far out can an online order be scheduled for?” Tylee asked.

  “I’m not sure what the program allows,” Brooke answered, trying to peer over her shoulder. “I’d have to check, but I would guess maybe a year. Why do you ask?”

  “Because a massive number of online orders have come through today, and some of them have a date as far out as two years!” Tylee leaned back to show Brooke a long list with a variety of future dates.

  “There has to be some mistake. That’s too many orders to come through in one day, and there has to be something wrong with the dates. Nobody is going to schedule a flower delivery that is two years from now!”

  “Do you think it’s possible that we were hacked in some way?” Tylee asked nervously.

  “I don’t know,” Brooke answered, hating the feeling of dread building up in her. “Let me sit down and see if I can figure it out.”

  Tylee moved from the seat, and Brooke slid into her place. She took some deep breaths, trying to calm her already frayed nerves. This really couldn’t happen again, could it? She had already dealt with a nightmare of floral mistakes, and the thought of history repeating itself was enough to send her to the verge of a panic attack.

  “Have you looked at the orders individually?” Brooke asked.

  “Not yet. I saw the large number and figured something had to be wrong somewhere.”

  Brooke clicked on one of the orders. The screen came up, and at the name on the order, Brooke’s heart jumped into her throat.

  Dylan Masters was listed as a sender.

  Tylee wasn’t looking at the computer screen anymore, but was gazing at the calendar with a puzzled expression. Obviously thinking out loud, she mused, “The weird thing is that each order really did seem to be placed individually. They each have a different time stamp of a few minutes apart, and they each have the note section filled out. I’d think it wouldn’t be so detailed or spread out if it was the work of a hacker just trying to bombard our system. The other strange thing is that if you look at the dates, they are all two weeks apart. The first order is two weeks from today. But if the orders were placed today, where is today’s order?”