Be Mine in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 3)

by Cindy Kirk

  “Sheriff.” Vanessa greeted him with a toothy smile. “How nice to see you again.”

  Max’s mother wore some kind of red jumpsuit with heels. Unlike Marigold, who’d twisted her curls up and secured them with a glittery comb, Vanessa’s hair spilled to her shoulders.

  It was unfair, Cade knew, but when he looked at Max’s mother, all he could think of was the cards. He wondered if Vanessa had her own deck. Did she and her boyfriend play the game on cold winter nights?

  “Good to see you.” Cade shot a glance inside the ballroom. “Does your garden center have a booth?”

  “We do.” She flashed a smile. “Actually, the Garden of Eden booth is right next to Adam’s. He’s touting his organic produce. You’ll have to stop by. Say hello.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Good luck with the fashion show, Marigold.” Vanessa wiggled her fingers and clicked off on her mile-high heels.

  “I thought about asking her a couple of questions.” Cade lifted a brow. “In order to get better acquainted.”

  For a second, Marigold looked puzzled. Then a twinkle filled her eyes. “Questions like ‘Are you happy with the intimacy you and Adam share?’ Or maybe, ‘Are you keeping any secrets that you’re afraid of letting your partner know?’”

  The last one hit a little too close to home for Cade. He had a secret, a big one. What would Marigold say if he took Steve’s advice and told her he was in love with her?

  Not now, he told himself. Not the right time.

  “The next time you see Vanessa, ask her one of those.” Cade shot her a wink. “Let me know what she has to say.”

  Marigold simply laughed.

  Cade let his gaze linger on Marigold, decked out in a red dress that showed off her curves. Earrings dangled from her ears, three droplets of red encircled by silver. Her shoes with their red soles—they were some designer brand he never could recall—added a good three inches of height to her petite frame. “You look amazing.”

  She winked. “You’re looking pretty spiffy yourself.”

  He glanced down. Instead of his preferred jeans, he’d changed into charcoal pants and a light gray shirt. “I aim to please.”

  In response, she slipped her arm through his, gestured to the ballroom. “What do you think?”

  His gaze settled on a booth near the end, the colors of the backdrop reminding him of Blooms Bake Shop. “Ami has a booth here?”

  “Of course.” Marigold smiled. “As does Muddy Boots. They’re pushing their catering services.”

  Cade tried to see who was behind the table chatting with a husband and wife who looked like tourists, but a large floral arrangement blocked his view. “Who’s manning the booth?”

  “Katie Ruth,” Marigold said.

  “What about Muddy Boots?”

  “Would you believe my dad?”

  “No.”

  “Scout’s honor.” Marigold gave a little laugh. “Flo was scheduled, but one of her kids got sick. Cory White filled in for my dad until he could come. Beck is, even as we speak, waiting tables at Muddy Boots.”

  “The Bloom family takes care of their own.”

  Marigold nodded. “These events help everyone in the business community. If I had a business here, I’d definitely have set up a booth.”

  Cade thought again about what Steve had said. Should he let Marigold know how he felt? He could say it casually, toss the words out there and then tell her to think about them.

  Before he could settle on a course of action, a voice over the loudspeaker boomed a warning.

  “The fashion show will begin in ten minutes. Ballroom 2.”

  Marigold tugged his hand. “Come see the runway.”

  “Don’t you have hair to . . . handle?”

  “Already done.” She smiled. “My assistant is with the models.”

  He found himself swept along with a sea of people all headed in the same direction. Instead of finding seats, he and Marigold stepped to the side.

  Whoever had decorated this ballroom had gone for romantic. Red Chinese lanterns hung overhead from decorative beams. A center runway, the sides draped in white linen, was edged with red and white flowers.

  Rows of chairs surrounded the runway while small, high-topped tables were scattered throughout the rest of the room. The flicker of the tea lights on red linen added to the ambiance.

  Tables edged the perimeter of the room, holding an assortment of silent auction offerings.

  Cade gestured. “Anything good?”

  “Lots of yummy and fun things,” she told him. “Wines and chocolates and stained glass. There’s even a trip to Iceland.”

  “Iceland?”

  “Don’t look that way. I’d die to go there. Swim in the Blue Lagoon. Ah, well.” She lifted her shoulders, let them drop. “Someday.”

  “Marigold.” Ami rushed over, gave Cade a slightly harried smile. “Greer messed up her hair. She needs you.”

  Marigold brushed a kiss on Cade’s cheek. “Duty calls.”

  He watched until she disappeared from sight, then moved to inspect the silent auction donations.

  The one with a sign touting the Blue Lagoon caught his eye. He’d like to take Marigold there. Swim with her in the warm waters during the day and make love with her at night.

  Someday. Maybe.

  The fashion show started right on time. Cade found himself standing beside a couple vacationing from Chicago. His ears perked up when he heard the woman mention Marigold’s name.

  “I know this should be all about the fashions, but I can’t wait to see what she’s done with the hair.” The woman’s voice held an excited edge.

  “You say her name is Marigold. Like the flower?” the man asked.

  “Yes. She’s an absolute marvel, a rare talent. She worked for Steffan Oliver. Everyone familiar with her skills said she was destined to surpass him in popularity.”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  “I don’t know.” The woman’s brow furrowed. “I wouldn’t think she’d waste her talent on such a small event.”

  She clutched her husband’s sleeve as the first model made her appearance.

  Cade paid special attention to the hair. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but all the styles looked nice.

  According to the woman gushing beside him, they were not simply nice, but fabulous. Marigold was übertalented, a genius with hair.

  If that were true, Cade thought, the woman he loved really was wasting her time in Good Hope.

  Marigold’s hands stroked Cade’s bare back as she gave him the inside skinny on the fashion show. Though they’d been together since the event concluded, it wasn’t until they were back in her apartment that she was able to speak without the risk of being overheard.

  Because Cade had looked exhausted and she feared he might head straight home, she’d invited him in for a back rub. No strings attached.

  He’d smiled at the comment and now lay facedown on her bed, shirt and shoes off as she rubbed her favorite oil across his well-muscled back.

  “Eliza complimented me on the hair.” Marigold paused for a second. “It shocked me speechless. Well, nearly speechless. You know me. I can usually find something to say.”

  “A little to the left.”

  “I knew you were listening.” Marigold returned to the tight knot on the left. Cade hadn’t had much to say. She wondered if his mind was on several more incidents of vandalism he’d been investigating.

  She didn’t mind carrying the bulk of the conversation. The fashion show had been a huge success and her head still spun with all the compliments.

  “I love these kinds of events. I was supposed to do the hair for Couture Fashion Week in Chicago, but once he fired me, Steffan got the coordinator to put him back in charge.” Marigold paused, then decided it would fester if she didn’t tell Cade the whole truth. “I’d feel worse about losing the position if I hadn’t edged him out to lead the team in the first place. I hadn’t campaigned for it or anything. But
I had put a bug in a few ears that I’d be interested, even though I knew it had been Steffan’s gig since he moved to Chicago.”

  It made her feel small now, remembering. It didn’t matter that mentioning interest in a position wasn’t the same as snatching it out from under him. After all, the final choice had been up to the coordinator.

  Marigold tried to assuage her guilt by telling herself it was the way things were done, the way a person got ahead. But did she really want to get ahead by stabbing a friend in the back?

  “Do you think I was wrong?” Marigold didn’t know why she asked when she already knew the answer.

  Still, Cade’s opinion of her mattered. She hoped he didn’t think too badly of her. She held her breath, awaiting his response.

  “Cade?”

  Silence.

  She thought about poking him, then heard the slow, easy intake of breath. Her lips lifted in a wry smile.

  His head was turned to the side, dark lashes fanning his cheek. He looked younger in sleep and somehow vulnerable, though she knew he’d rail at the word.

  He’d been letting his hair grow, the military cut no longer quite so pronounced. Marigold resisted the urge to brush back a strand of hair from his forehead, not wanting to take the chance of waking him.

  He was a good man, an honorable man. Someone who made her want to be a better woman. But none of that mattered. Cade loved small-town life. He was happy here.

  The fashion show had reminded her that her passion was hair. All the compliments and accolades hammered home she was destined for bigger and better. Which meant leaving Good Hope.

  “I’ll never forget you,” she whispered, then gave in to impulse and brushed a kiss across his cheek.

  For a second she thought he might wake up, but his lips simply curved into a slight smile.

  With great care she pulled the covers up, then eased off the bed. Though it was late enough for her to simply retire for the evening, she wasn’t ready to sleep.

  In bare feet she padded to the kitchen and considered what to do with herself. She could make a cup of tea. Pull out her phone and check her e-mail. Neither of those options held much appeal.

  Then her gaze settled on her art journal. She’d been too busy lately to take time for her art.

  She scooped up the book. Within minutes she had it, as well as her favorite supplies, strewn across the dinette table. Excitement replaced some of the melancholy as the pages began to come alive.

  Success. Fun. Friends. Family. Hearts and Cherries. She pasted, painted, and got creative with the calligraphy pen.

  In one of the magazines in her stash, she found a picture of an immense oak tree with a trunk wide enough to hold a dartboard. She flipped past the page, returned to the page.

  Surrendering to the inevitable, Marigold cut out the picture of the massive trunk, leaving a touch of green at the top. In no time at all, the oak stared back at her from a formerly blank page.

  She painted the rest of the page in bright splashes of color, careful to avoid the tree. Feeling foolish, she picked up a fine brush, dipped it in red, then carefully drew a heart on the trunk.

  It looked good, the bright red against the weathered wood. There was no reason to do more, she told herself.

  Yet it wasn’t finished.

  Picking up her calligraphy pen, she glanced over her shoulder as if to make sure no one was watching, and quickly added CR + MB to the inside of the heart.

  Once Cade left her apartment for his shift early Sunday morning, Marigold made the trek to Muddy Boots.

  Though she’d been on her own for the past eight years and attended events solo more times than she’d had an escort, it felt strange not having Cade at her side. In the short time they’d been dating, the sheriff had become part of her life.

  Pushing open the door to Muddy Boots, Marigold stepped from the quiet into a beehive with full tables and a whole lot of mingling going on. Catching sight of her family clustered at a large table near the back, she began threading her way between tables until a hand on her arm stopped her.

  “Got a minute?”

  Marigold turned, smiled when she saw the deputy. “Sure. What’s up?”

  Travis glanced around as if searching for someplace more private, then blew out a breath. “I guess we’ll have to talk here.”

  She cocked her head, concerned by the worry on his face. “What’s wrong, Trav?”

  “The sheriff is using you.” He blurted out the words, the freckles on his face standing out like shiny pennies. “He’s using your family, too.”

  “You need to spell this out for me, because I’m not following.”

  Travis flinched, obviously hearing the thirty-degree drop in her tone. “He’s using you and your family’s popularity in this town to further his campaign.”

  “And that concerns you because he’s running against you.”

  “It bothers me because I like you. Because we’re friends,” he added, flushing. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “I can look out for myself.” Marigold added extra warmth to her smile, knowing the deputy’s heart was in the right place. “But I appreciate the concern.”

  She turned to leave but his hand returned to her arm.

  When she glanced down, he immediately released his hold.

  “Using a vet to drum up support is low,” he blurted, suddenly looking much too young to be wearing a badge. “And not fair.”

  She merely lifted a brow.

  “Did you see the picture in the Gazette?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  “It was on the front page. Him and Justin Tooley. Katie Ruth did quite a spread all about this meeting between the two Marines.” Travis blew out a breath. “It was like free publicity for his campaign.”

  “Were you in the Marines, Travis?” Marigold asked, though she already knew the answer.

  His face took on the same mulish expression she’d often seen on her nephews’ faces. “No.”

  “Well, I bet if you’d been one, you’d be in the picture and mentioned in the article.” She patted his cheek. “Have a nice day.”

  “He’s got you snowed,” Travis called out when she walked away.

  She ignored the shouted words and kept walking.

  “Sorry I didn’t make it to church,” Marigold said when she reached her family, dropping into one of the empty chairs. “I decided to stay in bed a little while longer this morning.”

  Max glanced around. “Where’s Cade?”

  “He’s working.” Marigold answered so automatically that it took a moment to realize everyone expected to find the two of them together. “It isn’t as if Cade Rallis and I spend all our free time together.”

  Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended.

  “What couple does?” Max said good-naturedly. “Though I love spending as much time as I can with this woman.”

  He snaked a hand around Prim’s waist and pulled her to him. “She’s my valentine.”

  Prim’s ivory complexion flushed, even as she leaned against her husband’s shoulder. “I keep telling him V-Day is still a week away.”

  “It can’t come soon enough for me.” Max gave his wife a wink. “Be prepared, Red. I’m going to whirl you across the Valentine’s dance floor like—”

  Max paused and his blond brows furrowed. “Who’s a great ballroom dancer?”

  “Don’t even go there, Brody.” There was a decided twinkle in Beck’s dark eyes. “We’ve seen you dance.”

  Prim laughed, then mollified her husband by kissing his cheek. “It will be wonderful.”

  Maybe it was because Marigold had never had anyone spoil her rotten, or maybe it was because she’d always spent Valentine’s Day alone, but the holiday held little appeal. She hoped this hearts-and-flowers discussion would end before it affected her appetite.

  Ami hurried up. She glanced at Prim. “Did you tell Marigold about the book club?”

  “What book club?”


  “Well, I—” Ami paused to wave at friends Cory and Jackie White before turning back to Marigold. “I’m starting one.”

  “Shouldn’t you wait until after”—Marigold gestured to her sister’s midsection and the barely visible baby bump—“Junior arrives on the scene?”

  “My sentiments exactly,” Beck piped up, flashed a smile. “Glad you could stop by, Marigold.”

  “Back to the book club.” Ami settled into the seat next to Marigold. “I’m pregnant, not disabled. Hadley’s already taken on many of my duties at the bakery, so I have lots of time. Besides, I think a book club sounds like fun, and I don’t want to wait.”

  Her mother and sisters all read for pleasure, but to Marigold’s knowledge had never been involved in a club. She quirked a brow. “What made you think of doing it?”

  Before her sister could answer, the hairs on the back of Marigold’s neck prickled. She turned and there he was. There he was. She couldn’t stop the smile that blossomed on her lips. “I thought you were working.”

  When Cade placed his hands on her shoulders, she went warm all over.

  “I am working.” He glanced at Beck. “I received a report that things might be getting a bit rowdy at this establishment. I decided to personally assess the situation.”

  “I appreciate a man who’s thorough.” Beck motioned to the waitress, an older woman with orange hair that matched her lipstick. “Flo, could you get the sheriff a cup of coffee and a cruller?”

  “He prefers doughnuts.” Marigold spoke without thinking.

  The waitress cast Cade a questioning look.

  “She knows me and I know her.” Cade grinned. “Chocolate cake doughnut with icing, to go. Coffee black, please.”

  “As I was trying to say.” With a determined expression, Ami attempted to wrestle back control of the conversation.

  “The hostess for the book club—that’s me—will serve dinner. The men come, too, but once the food is taken away, they—”

  “—are banished to another part of the house.” Beck grinned. “Which is okay by me.”

  “Sounds like a good time.” Cade flashed Ami a supportive smile.

  “I’m glad you think so.” Ami gazed up at him. “I expect both you and Marigold to be there. It’s this Tuesday at six. I’m doing a romance and love theme, both in terms of the food and the book.”