by Nancy Naigle
“Or you could get your space back by selling the car. It’s really pretty. I’ve heard some old cars can be worth a ton of money, and that one looks very well kept,” Flynn said. “And more practical than using it as a storage bin.”
“It’s pristine. Daddy always bragged that the Desoto has never seen a raindrop, but I can’t sell it.”
“Maybe someday.” Flynn’s expression softened. She’d lost her dad a few years back, so she knew what Megan was going through.
“Never.” The words had come out like a bite. She caught herself immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m still a little emotional about it all, and it’s the only connection to him I still have.”
“Don’t apologize. You know you don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to. Plus, who else has the room to store a car this size?”
“True,” Megan agreed.
“I brought some extra stuff I had that I thought we might be able to use too.” Flynn owned the only B&B in the town, if one didn’t count Lonesome Pines Inn, which wasn’t officially an inn anymore since Naomi Laumann had turned it over to Katy and Derek to use for Derek’s doctor’s retreat business. The timing couldn’t have been better for the tall, reedlike blonde to take over the business from her grandparents.
“Thanks,” Megan said.
Flynn started pulling craft supplies out of what seemed to be a never-ending bag. “Stuff I’d gotten on sale that’s been sitting in my hope chest for way too long.”
“Anyone hear from the guys today?” Megan asked.
“Not me,” Katy said.
“All of the guys are staying with me at the B&B. Jackson stopped by on the way to the airport to pick up Noah and Ford.”
“Is Ford the one from Alaska?” Katy asked.
“I can’t keep them straight either.” Megan pulled out a chair.
“Yes. Ford is from Alaska.” Flynn leaned forward with a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m dying to meet these guys. Those pictures Jackson had were from like seven years ago, but they were all hot. Why is it good-lookin’ guys always seemed to travel in tribes?”
“I don’t think I’ve noticed that,” Megan said.
“The only one I could find online was Noah,” Flynn said.
“Okay, now you just sound like a stalker,” Megan said.
“I am not stalking. I’m curious. I hope Ford isn’t like five feet tall or something since that’s who I have to walk down the aisle with. That would suck.”
Megan had never had to deal with the problem of being too tall for someone. Of course, as pretty as Flynn was, Megan wasn’t sure any guy would have a problem with her height. “Don’t sweat it.” Megan nodded for Flynn to follow her. “We don’t have to marry them, and no one will be looking at us as we walk out of the church with those guys. All eyes will be on Angie. So, who cares?”
“Easy for y’all to say. Katy has Derek and you don’t want a relationship. I do.” Flynn pouted like she always did when they got on the subject of men, but then living in a small town could feel like slim pickings sometimes. “It’d be kind of nice if this guy was at least a potential candidate. We don’t get that many new guys in Boot Creek.”
Katy winced behind Flynn’s back. This was an old subject that got rehashed often.
“You can have mine if yours is a dud. Now quit moping. Come help me get the candles.” Megan hoped Flynn would quit her pouting if they got down to work.
“While y’all do that, do you mind if I take a look at your apartment. Angie’s told me about it, but I’ve never seen it.”
“Sure. Make yourself at home.”
Katy went to the right toward the apartment and Flynn followed Megan to the left where Megan’s workshop was filled with all the equipment she needed to keep Balanced Buzz going. Against the back wall the cooling racks wrapped around two walls, but only five feet high. No sense having anything taller than she could reach.
“What can I do?” Flynn picked up one of the shot-glass-sized mason jars. “These are too precious.”
“They’re cool, aren’t they? Can you grab those two boxes from the top shelf labeled ‘Lids’? We’ll need those. You can put them on the bottom shelf of the cart.” Megan wheeled the plastic, two-shelf utility cart across the room and started loading the candles onto the cart.
Flynn carefully placed the lid boxes underneath. “I’ll help you get those.”
The small glass jars fit easily onto the cart. “That’s all of them.”
Flynn pushed the cart like a gurney across the glossy black-and-white tiled floor through the workshop and around the corner to the table in the next room. Megan usually used this space for projects. At one time she’d even used it as an art studio, but that had been years ago.
Flynn parked the cart up against the end of the table. “You have to admit it would be nice to have someone new in town.” She unloaded the two boxes of lids onto the table.
“Someone new as in someone of the male persuasion, I take it,” Megan said.
“Well . . . anyone, but yes, men. And if they show up for a wedding, doesn’t that have to bring some kind of good fortune? I mean, what’s more romantic?”
“We’re back on that again,” Megan mumbled.
“The Blackberry Festival,” Katy said as she walked in. “That’s what got me to stop in Boot Creek. You can just troll the gas station on festival day. Worked for Derek.”
“I hate to break it to you, Flynn, but we think weddings are romantic. Men, not so much. In fact, I think weddings make most guys nervous. Nearly gun-shy.”
“I can never catch a break,” she said.
“It’s going to be fine.” Megan patted Flynn on the arm and headed back to the table. “If you quit trying so hard, you’ll find someone.”
“We better at least have some fun.”
“Quit being such a downer,” Megan said. “Of course, we’re going to have fun. It’s Angie’s big day. She’s our best friend. And I’m sure those guys are going to be great. Jackson is. We’ll be all dressed up and the reception is at Derek and Katy’s. What could go wrong?”
Flynn shrugged. “You never know.”
Katy took a seat at the table. “Megan’s right. When you quit looking so hard you’re going to find a great guy. Right now your biological clock is almost scaring me!”
Even Flynn laughed at that.
“I think you’re trying too hard.” Katy patted Flynn’s arm.
Megan was pretty sure she didn’t have a biological clock, because the last thing on her mind was kids, much less a husband.
No, thank you. Not with her family or her history with men.
Megan had to really bite her tongue from starting in on Flynn about her obsession with finding a man. It was like she’d rather pick the wrong man than be without one, and it was hard to watch the train wreck.
She nodded, settling in at the table. “Okay, we’d better get started here.”
Katy took one of the jars off the cart. “So, what exactly are we doing to all of these?”
“The stickers that normally go on the front will fit right on the bottom. That way if anyone wants to reorder they can, but we’ll be decorating these custom for the wedding guests. Angie gave me creative license, so here’s what I’m thinking. I have this ribbon in soft yellow that should match the rosebuds and other flowers really nicely, plus it will look summery fresh against the blue beeswax candles. I had some charms made. See?” She held out a stacked set of silver-stamped charms. The bottom one was round with THANK YOU around the bottom edge. A shiny silver heart sat on top of that..
“Those are adorable.”
“Aww.”
Each tiny charm had ANGIE AND JACKSON and the wedding date on it.
“If you don’t think it’s too much work, I have these pearls we could string on each side of the charm to kind of hold it tight. I think that would look nice.”
“It’s for Angie. Nothing’s too much work.”
“We’ll have to decide if we
want to decorate the glass jar or the metal top. I’m thinking the edge of the mason jar top. Honestly beeswax burns pretty hot. In the small jar, I’d be kind of afraid the glue wouldn’t hold. We don’t want them to fall apart. At least on the lid they should stay looking nice.”
“Agreed.” Katy picked up a pair of scissors. “I can cut ribbons to the right length, and we can kind of do an assembly line.”
“Works for me.” Flynn pulled the box of beads and charms in front of her.
Megan slid boxes of permanent glue dots toward each of the two girls like a drink in an old western bar scene, then pulled one in front of herself. “These glue dots were the next best invention since sticky notes.” She picked up a jar and placed the brand label on the bottom.
Katy took a lid from the box and pulled a ribbon around the top. “Think we need a little extra to make room for the charms?”
“Yes,” Megan said. “And probably overlapping just a little will give us a smoother look.”
Katy clipped two identical lengths, then handed one to Flynn to assemble as a prototype.
Flynn quickly threaded the beads and charms in the center of the ribbon, then placed glue dots along each end. Three on each side of the charms. She carefully wrapped it around the edge of the lid. “It’s cute.”
“It is.” Megan reached for the lid and placed it on top of the jar she’d already labeled. “What do y’all think?”
“Really nice guest gift. I think it’s great,” Katy said.
“Me too.”
“All right. We should be able to knock these out pretty quickly.”
It didn’t take more than the first ten for them to find a perfect rhythm that kept the production rolling with no wasted time. That was Katy’s specialty. She could organize anyone and anything. That’s why she’d been the perfect candidate to fill that festival and tourism coordinator job for the town. Boot Creek was going to be sorry they’d made it a one-year contract, because Katy would be stepping down in just one more month and they’d have to find someone to fill her shoes. That was not going to be easy. This year’s Blackberry Festival had exceeded any other year prior, and she’d even launched two successful watershed projects.
“I’m totally stealing this idea if I ever get married again.” Katy tightened the soft yellow ribbon around the spool and used a glue dot to secure the end.
“Think you’ll ever do that?”
“Get married again?” She twisted the cardboard spool between her fingers. “At first I thought no way, but I love Derek, and just because my ex was a jerk, doesn’t mean that Derek will ever be. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Just wondered.”
“I loved being married most of the time. Being able to be yourself. Being with someone who can make you laugh when things get tough, because you’re never going through any of it alone. There’s always someone in your corner.”
“Until they’re not,” Megan said.
“True. And even good marriages turn bad. But even as bad as mine ended, I had some amazing years. I’m going to continue to honor those good times, and the bad ones . . . well, they led me to Derek. Can’t really complain about that.”
“Sure can’t. He adores you. And none of us ever thought we’d see Derek happy again, much less serious. You gave him his life back,” Megan said.
“He kind of gave me mine back too. It’s really good.” Katy shivered. “Sorry, I just got a chill. Is it chilly in here or is it just me?”
“It’s all that talk about men cheating and bad relationships,” Flynn said. “It’s bad mojo to talk ill of true love.”
Katy and Megan both threw pads of glue dots at Flynn, who ducked in just the nick of time.
“That is not why,” Megan defended herself. “Keeping the building temperature steady is nonnegotiable in my line of work. My candles are sensitive to heat and humidity changes. I could either waste hours and hours adjusting pouring temperatures and drying times and reheating jars to compensate, or just keep the building consistent year round so I don’t risk ruining product. And I hate waste. The problem is this stupid air-conditioning system is about on its last leg.”
“I know a guy. Want me to connect you with him?” Flynn asked.
“No. I’m trying to get one last summer out of it. If sales this Christmas are as strong as they were last year, I’ll be able to finally afford to replace it. Just a couple more weeks and hopefully fall will be here.”
“I think we are done,” Flynn said. “One hundred candles in adorable little shot glass mason jars decorated with tops screwed in place. Ready to go.”
“That was fast. They look beautiful,” Katy said.
“I think Angie will be happy with them. I’ll bring them over to Lonesome Pines tomorrow if you have room to store them, Katy.”
“Sure, that’ll be fine. I’ve got one whole room of stuff for Saturday.”
“How are we going to transport all of these little suckers?” Flynn asked.
“I’ve got the boxes the jars came in. I don’t know why I didn’t think to have us put them back in the box as we finished them. I’ll do that tomorrow. They’ll be easier to take over to the inn that way.”
“I don’t mind sticking around and helping you pack them up,” Katy said. “I can take them with me.”
“No. That’s fine. I can do it in the morning. Besides, that way I can double-check that the glue dots have held overnight. I’ll drive them over tomorrow, Katy. No sense messing with them tonight.”
Flynn said, “If we could only build relationships as easily as putting those gifts together, then we’d be on to something.”
“If you think about it,” Megan said, “We kind of have all the parts of a relationship represented here in one of these little candles.”
Flynn looked confused.
“Sometimes relationships make you drink. The shot glass.” Megan picked one up and pretended to toss it back.
Katy jumped in. “Glue dots. Getting through sticky situations with someone you love is always easier.”
“And ribbon. Sometimes they tie up all of your time.” Megan smiled, and paused.
“I get it,” Flynn said. “Candles. Things can get heated up.”
“Totally!” Megan laughed. “That is the best part. And the charms, a man will charm you . . .” She picked up a jar from the table and unscrewed the top. “And want to screw you.” She screwed the top back on.
“Make love,” Katy corrected her. “Relationships aren’t as bad as you think, Megan Howard. One of these days you’re going to meet your match.”
“That’ll screw up all of my plans,” she said.
“Famous last words.” Katy got up. “You ready, Flynn? I’ll drop you back off at the B&B.”
“Yeah. Gran and my grandfather got into town this afternoon. I’m sure they’ll be sitting up waiting for me to get home. They still think I’m, like, twelve or something.”
“You do have a full house this week. I can’t wait to see them,” Megan said, walking the girls outside to where Katy had parked under the awning. “Thanks for y’all’s help tonight. Even if you are trying to jinx me with all that relationship talk.”
Chapter Four
Noah saw Jackson pull up in front of the Crane Creek B&B from the upstairs window. As he turned to put his wallet in his pocket, he heard the screen door downstairs slapping closed behind someone with an enthusiastic “Good Morning, Jax” behind it.
They’re a friendly bunch out here.
It was hard to imagine living in a small town like this as an adult. Everyone knowing each other and all of your business. Growing up in Tennessee, it was the neighbors that usually ratted you out. Everyone knew everything. That could be a real problem when it came to dating, especially since all of the women he’d seen so far had been attractive. Even by California standards.
Noah took the stairs two at a time, then turned at the landing. As he reached for the edge of the door that was wide open, he bumped smack-dab into a tall woman. She hiccupped a
gulp of air and froze in his arms, her cheeks flushing.
“Sorry.” He’d grabbed her arm in the confusion. He released her and stepped out of her space.
“It’s okay,” she said, sweeping her hair behind her ear. “I should’ve been looking. Jackson’s here for y’all.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Flynn.”
“Yeah. Hi. You’re in the wedding party too. Thanks for letting us stay here.”
“My gift to the bride and groom,” she said. “You’d better hurry or Jackson will start honking his horn and wake up the neighbors.”
“Right.” He headed for the door, then stopped and turned around. “Flynn? You said your name is Flynn, didn’t you?”
“Yep. I know. It’s kind of a weird name.”
“No. Actually, I was talking to an older couple yesterday. They had a granddaughter named Flynn. I helped them text her.”
She tilted her head slightly. “At the airport?”
“Yeah. They were on my flight.” Small world. Small town. Maybe the odds were better than they seemed.
“You’re the guy who helped my grandparents?”
He smiled at the recollection. “Nice folks. Reminded me of my grandparents, actually.”
“Yes. They own this place, though they’re living in a retirement community now. They’ll be at the wedding. That was so nice of you to stop and help them. They haven’t stopped talking about you.”
“How about that?”
“Small world.” Her eyes twinkled.
Too small, sometimes. “Well it’s a really nice place you’ve got here.”
She smiled as her blue eyes wandered the foyer. “Thanks. I like it too. Maybe tomorrow morning you’ll get up early enough to partake in the breakfast. I’m a terrific cook.”
“Something to look forward to,” he said. That girl’s biological clock was ticking; he could feel it from her first blush. Better steer clear of her. He had no need for that kind of drama. “We’re going to be pretty busy this week helping Jackson and Angie. Guess we’ll play it by ear.” Polite. Noncommittal.