by Cindy Kirk
Tie The Knot In Good Hope
Cindy Kirk
Copyright © Cynthia Rutledge 2018
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design and Book Interior by Lee Hyat Designs
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
Also by Cindy Kirk
One
Lindsay Lohmeier was having difficulty finding her happy place. Normally, the interior of the Muddy Boots café made her smile. She loved the cobalt-blue splashes of rain, er, paint, on the white walls and adored the mural of a happy girl in a bright red raincoat kicking up water.
Though her lunch hadn’t yet had a chance to settle, Lindsay knew the words lodged in her throat would choke her if she didn’t get them out.
“I did it.” Nerves had her speaking more loudly than she’d intended. “I quit.”
Lindsay’s friends, who’d been arguing about something to do with the upcoming Harvest Festival, paused the debate to focus on her.
Eliza Kendrick and Ami Cross sat directly across from her in a booth that overlooked Good Hope’s Main Street. They’d scored a primo spot by the window because Muddy Boots was owned by Ami and her husband.
“What are you quitting?” Eliza’s gray eyes narrowed. She was a beautiful woman with shiny dark hair cut in a stylish bob and lips of bright red. “You better not say the Cherries, because no one leaves the Women’s Events League. Not under my watch.”
The frostiness that invaded the voice of the Cherries’ executive director made Lindsay smile. Many on the Door County peninsula were intimidated by the woman’s forceful personality. But she and Eliza had been friends for as far back as she could remember.
“I sense a story here.” Ami rested her arms on the Formica tabletop, green eyes dancing with curiosity. Her blond and brown sun-streaked hair gleamed in the glow of the fluorescent lights.
Eliza glanced at her phone’s display and checked the time. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Lin.”
“I believe”—Ami shot Eliza a warning glance—“what Eliza is trying to say is we know Shirley is a stickler about your lunch breaks.”
“You have something to tell us.” Eliza pointed a long, elegant finger at Lindsay. “Just say it.”
Lindsay told herself she should be scared out of her mind by this latest development. But compared to the news the doctor had laid on her this morning, not having an income was the least of her concerns.
“Yesterday…” She paused, not so much for dramatic effect as to still the tremble in her voice. “I quit my job.”
Ami’s eyes grew wide. “Seriously?”
A slow smile lifted Eliza’s red lips. “Well, hallelujah.”
“If you’re happy”—Ami reached across the table to give Lindsay’s hand a squeeze—“we’re happy.”
Eliza nodded, then cocked her head, her sleek hair falling like a dark curtain against her cheek. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”
Lindsay understood their surprise. She’d worked as a floral designer at the Enchanted Florist for nearly ten years. She’d lived in her apartment for nearly that long. She’d never been one for change.
Looking ahead, she saw a future that held nothing but change. Lindsay swallowed against the bile rising in her throat.
“Was it that hideous uniform Shirley insisted you wear?” Eliza chuckled. “Or did you finally get sick of her bullshit and snap?”
Ami turned to Eliza, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Why, Mrs. Kendrick, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you say bullshit.”
“Blame it on my husband.” Eliza flashed a sly smile. “Kyle is a bad influence.”
Lindsay and Ami looked at each other and burst out laughing. Everyone in Good Hope knew Kyle was the best thing that had ever happened to Eliza.
Eliza knew it, too. Her happiness shone as brightly as the diamond on her finger.
“Shirley never gave you the credit or the freedom to create that you deserved.” Eliza studied Lindsay. “I wouldn’t have lasted a week. How you lasted ten years is beyond me.”
“You’re not Lindsay,” Ami told Eliza, then refocused on Lindsay. “What made you decide to leave now?” Ami added an encouraging smile to the question.
“Shirley informed me the twins would be taking over my design work.” Anger she couldn’t quite control licked at the edges of Lindsay’s voice.
“Her daughters?” Eliza’s brows pulled together in puzzlement. “They’re in high school.”
“They graduated last May,” Lindsay reminded her. “After one class, they are now officially floral designers.”
Her friends appeared as stunned as she’d been when Shirley delivered the bombshell. Lindsay had completed a two-year program in floral design, had ten years of experience and had received numerous accolades. The twins’ only education was the recent completion of a six-week online course.
One online course, Lindsay thought bitterly, then shoved the anger aside. She would not dwell on the negative. She told herself this change in circumstance was a blessing, the shot in the arm she needed.
“I didn’t go to school to ring up sales and schedule deliveries.” Lindsay didn’t mention Shirley had simpered that unfortunately she’d have to cut her salary since her job duties would be changing.
“I wish I could have seen Shirley’s face when you quit.” Eliza’s lips lifted at the thought. “Mark my words, her business will take a nose dive. I only sent Cherries’ business her way because you worked there.”
Ami nodded. “She’s taken advantage of you and your talent for years.”
“I let her,” Lindsay admitted with an embarrassed smile.
“The job worked for you.” Ami’s tone had a matter-of-factness, but sympathy filled her eyes. “When it no longer did, you quit.”
Lindsay nodded, still embarrassed by the number of years she’d let Shirley trample over her.
“If you need a job while you decide your next step, I can always use help at the bakery.” Ami’s voice radiated reassurance and told Lindsay she wasn’t in this alone.
It was a generous offer, but with Labor Day in the rearview, Good Hope had officially entered the off-season. And Blooms Bake Shop was fully staffed for the winter months.
Eliza, not to be outdone, met Lindsay’s gaze. “There’s always a place for you at the General Store.”
Lindsay’s heart swelled with love for these two women wh
o would always have her back. In high school, they’d dubbed themselves the Three Musketeers. Over the years, they’d weathered many tough times, including a horrific car accident the summer before their senior year.
Ami had been driving, and Lindsay had been seriously injured. Now, the only reminder was a scar across her cheek. What had hurt most was the chasm between Ami and Eliza that had lasted for years, with Ami guilt-ridden and Eliza blaming Ami for Lindsay’s injuries.
That was behind them. They were a united front now. For that, Lindsay was immensely grateful. She needed their love and support more than ever. Especially after the news she’d received barely two hours earlier.
“I appreciate the offers, but I’ve got some savings.” Lindsay hoped saying aloud the plan circling in her head would make it real. “I’ve decided now is the time for me to follow your lead. I’m going into the floral business for myself.”
Excitement skittered across the table like the leaves dancing in the outside breeze. Before Lindsay could catch her breath, Eliza offered space in her store and Ami mentioned giving her several commercial refrigeration units.
“I have no need of them,” Ami insisted. “We went with all-new when we remodeled the bakery.”
Lindsay found herself touched by the offer but unwilling to take advantage. “I’ll buy them.”
“Absolutely not.” Ami lifted her hands, palms out. “The units work, but they’re old. You’ll be doing me a favor by taking them off my hands.”
Lindsay bit her bottom lip. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m positive.” Ami smiled. “I’m happy I can help.”
Eliza glanced around the café, known for its comfort food and warm ambience. “If Muddy Boots had a liquor license, we’d open a bottle of champagne and toast your new business.”
“I’m afraid the bottle would be wasted on me.” Ami’s hand dropped to her abdomen, reminding Lindsay that her friend’s second baby was due in February.
“It would be wasted on me as well.” Lindsay clasped her fingers together to still their sudden trembling.
“I know you’re not a big drinker.” Eliza offered an understanding smile. “But this is a special occasion.”
“I’m afraid the drinking door is solidly closed for now.”
Ami shot her a quizzical glance.
Eliza circled a hand in a get-to-the-point gesture.
Lindsay took a deep breath, then exhaled the words. “I’m pregnant.”
Owen Vaughn rarely took time for lunch. His business, the Greasy Wrench Automotive Center, kept him too busy. Though he had a great group of employees, it felt as if they were always short a mechanic or two. Which meant, in addition to his administrative duties, Owen helped out in the bays.
Once the workday ended, everyone scattered. Everyone, except him. He had no reason to rush home. There was no one waiting for him there. Not anymore.
“What are you going to have?” Dan Marshall, pastor at First Christian, glanced down at the list of specials for the day. “I came here for a burger, but the Bunza sounds intriguing.”
Owen glanced at the description. Cabbage. Beef. Onions. Spices. Wrapped up in some sort of bread pocket. He shook his head. “I’m not a big cabbage fan.”
When Owen lifted his gaze from the list of specials, intending to ask Dan why he’d set up this lunch meeting, he saw her.
Lindsay sat at a table by the window with her two closest friends. Though he couldn’t see her eyes, the light from the window turned her hair into spun gold. Today, she’d pulled those long strands back from her face with a couple of clips that sparkled in the café’s fluorescent lights.
Though it was a workday, instead of the “uniform” her boss—Shirley Albrecht—had implemented last year, Lindsay was dressed casually in jeans, sneakers and a blue cotton sweater. The simple fact that she was eating out for lunch, rather than chowing down a sandwich in the tiny break room at the back of the floral shop, told him she’d taken the day off.
His gaze drank her in. Owen had been stunned last spring when she and Pastor Dan had become engaged right before his eyes. The engagement hadn’t lasted long. She and the minister had parted ways shortly after Mindy had—
“I suppose you’re wondering why I called.” Dan’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Realizing his gaze was still focused in Lindsay’s direction, Owen pulled it back. “Yes. I—”
A dark-haired young woman who reminded Owen of Lindsay’s niece, Dakota, stopped at the table. With pen poised over a pad, she smiled. “Do you gentlemen need more time?”
Owen glanced at Dan. “I’m ready if you are.”
Dan waited until the orders were taken and drinks on the table before getting down to business. He leaned forward. “How are you doing?”
With careful precision, Owen lifted the glass of soda to his lips. They both knew Dan wasn’t asking about his business. “I’m getting by.”
“Have you thought any more about the grief group I—”
“I’m not interested.” His voice could have cut glass. Owen set down the glass. “Is that why you asked me to lunch? To push the grief group or play psychologist?”
In the six months since the death of Owen’s daughter, Dan had mentioned the grief group on more than one occasion.
“If I thought either would do any good, I would.” Dan’s chuckle eased the tension. “You’ve got a hard head, Owen. Any prodding by me would likely be counterproductive.”
The tension in Owen’s shoulders eased. He reminded himself that Dan was a good guy and his concern genuine.
“Fin Rakes came to see me.”
Owen cocked his head. “What does Fin have to do with me?”
A shining light in Mindy’s life during the last months of his child’s life, Delphinium, known affectionately by everyone in town as Fin, had been like a mother to Mindy. She’d loved his little girl, and that love had been reciprocated.
Swallowing the ball of dread rising in his throat, Owen braced himself. The fact that he was here and Fin had been brought into the conversation practically guaranteed his lunch invitation had something to do with Mindy.
Dear God, he prayed, please don’t let it be some sort of memorial service. Owen didn’t know if he could survive another one. He was a private person who refused to lose control in front of everyone, so the services were always difficult.
“—Mindy’s closet.”
Owen realized that while his mind had been embracing worst-case scenarios, the minister had continued to speak. How had he known all of Mindy’s clothes were still in her closet? Owen shut the door to her room whenever anyone stopped by.
Besides, how was that any of the minister’s business? “What about her closet?”
His voice came out sharper than he’d intended. But, darn it, between Dan bringing up Mindy’s death and seeing Lindsay across the dining area, it was almost more than Owen could bear. Lindsay had been a bright light in his life during those dark months after Mindy died.
In the weeks they’d been apart, he’d—
“Fin proposed Mindy’s Closet be the name of the project.”
Project? Owen frowned, then shot the minister an apologetic look. “I need you to start again at the beginning. I’m not clear on what you’re asking.”
Dan’s gaze shifted to the window where the pretty blonde who’d once been his fiancée sat with her friends. “I may have been distracted and not made myself clear.”
They had Lindsay in common, Owen thought. The realization had his spirits sinking even lower.
“Fin approached me with a proposal. She wanted to run it by me before mentioning the possibility to you.”
He’d been right. It was another memorial service. Damn it all to hell and back. “She wants to plan some sort of memorial to Mindy.”
“Yes. And no.”
“Which is it?” Owen lifted a brow at the cryptic response. “Yes? Or no?”
Then, darned if his gaze didn’t slide once again to Lindsay. The fact
that the three women looked so serious concerned him. Especially Lindsay, whom he’d once teasingly accused of scattering sunshine wherever she went.
The compliment had made her smile.
“No.”
Owen jerked his attention back to the minister. “Not a memorial.”
“Not in the strict sense of the word.” Dan opened his mouth, but paused when the waitress appeared with their burgers and fries.
Once she was out of earshot, Owen picked up a fry. “What does Fin want?”
Dan cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “While there are several consignment stores in Good Hope, they charge for their merchandise.”
The day, Owen thought, just kept getting stranger and stranger. “I don’t know anything about clothing sales, Dan. I’m a mechanic.”
“Fin wants to start something called Mindy’s Closet at the church.” Dan paused. “Residents will be asked to donate new and used children’s clothing. Once a week, or perhaps more often, we’ll open the doors to Mindy’s Closet for our neighbors in need.”
For a long moment, Owen didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. He thought of his daughter’s closet at home, filled with dresses and glittery tops, all in various shades of pink. The thought of giving away the last reminders of his precious child brought a jittery feeling to his gut.
“You wouldn’t be expected to donate Mindy’s clothing. Unless you want to, of course,” Dan quickly added, as if he’d read Owen’s thoughts. His voice deepened with emotion. “Fin wants to do this for the community as a tribute to Mindy. She and Jeremy were very fond of your little girl.”
“Mindy loved Fin.” As if of their own volition, Owen’s lips turned up. “Being Fin’s flower girl and walking down the aisle in her ‘princess dress’ was…”