by Herron, Rita
Sadness swelled inside her at the sight of the keepsake boxes stacked in a corner of the den by the Christmas tree.
Obviously Aunt Dottie thought decorating the tree together would mend the girls’ broken relationships, but it wasn’t that simple. Too many hurtful words and accusations had been hurled back and forth between them like grenades.
When she walked into the kitchen and saw Daisy bustling around, making her aunt a gourmet breakfast, and Caroline in the sewing room cleaning up the scraps of lace from Aunt Dottie’s latest project, her heart squeezed.
Even though they were sharing the same house, they’d retreated to their separate corners like boxers in a boxing ring. Hating the tense silence, she found some milk for the kitty, then grabbed her purse and Aunt Dottie’s keys to the shop and stepped outside.
The dented fender reminded her of her hasty escape and her broken marriage.
Hopefully Aunt Dottie would perk up fast, and Daisy and Caroline could go back to their perfect lives.
Levi noted the WELCOME sign to the town with a curse. What kind of town was called Matrimony?
Had to have been named by a woman. Men would never stoop to such nonsense.
Not that he didn’t believe that some marriages worked. Hell, in spite of the fact that his mother had been a city girl and his father a rancher, their marriage had lasted forty-five years. His father had doted on his mother and vice versa.
But love like that was dangerous.
When she’d fallen ill four years ago and died, he’d died right along with her. Within months, his heart had failed.
If that was what love did to a man, Levi didn’t want any part of it.
He used his GPS to find the Victorian house where Izzy Sassafras had grown up.
Spanish moss dripped like spider webs around the wraparound porch, and the sharp angles and turrets gave it a haunted look.
Four vehicles sat in the drive. Who did they belong to?
He passed the house and drove down the oak-lined street, debating how best to approach Izzy.
He had no power to arrest her, and he didn’t like manhandling women, but if she was a scrapper like Ray had painted her to be, she wouldn’t exactly turn over that cash she’d stolen without a fight.
His phone buzzed. Elsa again. Maybe she had a warrant for Izzy’s arrest and would simplify the situation. “Yeah?”
“Levi, I found something you need to know about.”
He wiped sweat from his forehead. “What?”
“When we talked, I knew that name Ray LaPone sounded familiar, so after we hung up, I ran a background check.”
Dread balled in his gut. “And?”
“He’s under investigation for fraud.”
Levi’s instincts kicked in. “So the money his wife stole is dirty money?”
“Probably. And whoever he stole it from may want it back. In fact, they might be after him.”
Which meant Izzy Sassafras had gotten herself in deep shit.
“I don’t know whether or not Ray’s wife was working with him, but the police want to question her when you locate her.”
The blonde in question appeared on the porch wearing a red Christmas sweatshirt with candy canes emblazoned on the front, jeans that hugged her butt, and red stilettos. Morning sunlight glittered off her golden hair, making her look almost angelic.
But Izzy Sassafras was no angel.
And dammit—she was sexier in person than in her picture.
She glanced around the house, then up and down the street as if she was worried someone was following her.
He could call Ray now, tell him where she was, and take the money he offered. Although if Izzy was in cahoots with Ray, that would make Levi an accomplice.
Hell. He should turn Izzy Sassafras over to the police.
But the detective in him wanted the truth.
“I’m on her trail now,” he said to Elsa. “I’ll do some surveillance and find out what she knows.”
Turning her and Ray over to the police with concrete evidence of their illegal activities might get him reinstated in the police department and earn him detective status.
Now he just needed to figure out a way to approach Izzy without revealing his real identity.
CHAPTER THREE
Over the next three days Izzy and her sisters kept their distance from one another.
Meanwhile, Izzy cleaned the shop and gave it a new coat of paint. She found the dolls she and her sister used to play with in a box in her closet. Memories of dressing them in wedding gowns and having pretend ceremonies taunted her. As children, she and her sisters had such imagination, such dreams.
At least Daisy’s and Caroline’s appeared to have come true. All the more reason they not discover that her life had gone downhill after she’d left Matrimony.
But the dolls gave her an idea. She dressed them in the bridal gowns Caroline had stitched for them years ago, then displayed them on a table in front of the shop beside a flower-draped arch.
Aunt Dottie’s suggestion about a secondhand bridal shop played over and over in her head.
What if the shop offered more than bridal gowns? Matrimony didn’t have a bridal boutique or even a special occasions store.
As she hung the vintage dresses from Aunt Dottie’s friends in one corner, her idea grew. Weddings were about the dress, of course. But brides needed accessories and bridesmaid’s dresses, shoes, purses, and jewelry.
The venue was also important.
The little chapel on the hill where her aunt and uncle had married looked old-fashioned, but it still stood as beautiful as ever.
The bell tinkled on the shop, and Daisy and Caroline stepped inside, both looking as wary as they had three days ago. True to their pact, they’d been civil to one another, but they hadn’t shared any personal stories or decorated the tree. Each of them planned to go their separate ways as soon as Aunt Dottie recovered.
Izzy definitely thought her aunt was faking it. Twice, she’d caught her on the porch sniffing brandy and clogging to bluegrass music without that leg brace. Of course, as soon as her aunt saw her, she’d clutched her leg as if it had seized up, grabbed her crutches, and hobbled back to bed.
“Two more of Aunt Dottie’s friends donated dresses, and Aunt Dottie asked me to repair them.” Caroline laid a Victorian gown trimmed in ivory lace on the display table along with a floor-length, strapless satin gown glittering with sequins.
Daisy gestured toward a silver tray in her hand. “Aunt Dottie asked me to bake some petit fours to set out for customers.”
What customers? They hadn’t even opened yet.
Maybe her aunt was getting senile.
Daisy walked through the nearly empty shop, her eyes narrowed. “You know, Aunt Dottie could add a coffee corner over here and serve coffee and desserts. It might draw customers to come in and browse, and help with the cash flow during slow times.”
Izzy’s pulse jumped. “That’s a great idea, Daisy. I was just thinking that she might expand to include wedding planning along with bridal accessories.”
Caroline looked at her as if she had two heads. “Don’t you think the town is too small to support a wedding business?”
Of course Caroline would make her feel like an idiot.
But Izzy glanced at the dolls again and ideas bombarded her. “Maybe, maybe not. All little girls want to grow up and get married. Maybe Aunt Dottie could offer wedding packages—get everything you need for your wedding in one shop, then enjoy a romantic honeymoon in the mountains.”
“Who would want to come here to get married?” Caroline asked.
Daisy wrinkled her nose. “Err . . . I would.”
Caroline gaped at her sister, but Daisy squared her shoulders.
“I always thought that little chapel had some kind of magic to it. Didn’t you hear Aunt Dottie and Uner Pinkerton talk about it? Nosy Nellie even wrote about the folk legend in the paper—that if you get married in that chapel, your
marriage will last forever.”
The truth dawned on Izzy. “That’s where the town got its name.” Her imagination kicked in. “What if we played off that legend, helped Aunt Dottie publicize it? We could make Matrimony a destination wedding spot.”
“We?” Caroline asked.
Izzy should have known Caroline would balk. She probably thought Izzy was delusional to believe she could pull off a business venture.
“That would take a lot of work and marketing,” Daisy pointed out.
Still, images of the interior of the store flooded Izzy. They could add that coffee corner with desserts that Daisy mentioned. And a section for grooms. And another for bridal gifts. “But it would make Aunt Dottie so happy, and then we’d know she was taken care of when we leave.” And I might be able to stay here and earn some money in case Ray comes after me.
She’d felt like someone was watching her all week. Following her. Was Ray in town already?
“The problem is that most people don’t believe in marriage anymore,” Caroline said.
“Then we make them believe.” Izzy crossed her fingers behind her back. “After all, the three of us are happily married.” She gave Caroline a challenging look. “That is, unless you don’t believe in marriage anymore.” Was Caroline having problems? And what about Daisy?
Neither had mentioned their home lives.
“Of course I believe in it,” Caroline said stiffly.
Izzy arched a brow at Daisy, and Daisy gave her a faint smile. “Me, too.”
“Then we can make it work.”
She’d earn a living helping couples tie the knot with promises of happily ever after, even though Ray had rewritten their vows, changing I do to I don’t sixty seconds after the ceremony.
Levi couldn’t believe his ears. He’d been tailing Izzy for days. He had snuck into that building and wired it so he could find out what she was up to.
Now the sisters were going to start a bridal business?
And Izzy had just lied when she’d implied she was happily married.
She’s a compulsive liar, Ray had said. He was obviously right on that score.
Which meant Izzy hadn’t told them that she’d left her husband and stolen his money.
He lifted his binoculars to get a better look inside.
“Do either of you have experience online with marketing?” Izzy asked.
Daisy shrugged. “I did some marketing for a fertilizer company.”
Fitting. She sold crap for a living
“Maybe you could post testimonials from couples who married at the chapel and are still hitched,” Izzy suggested, her voice gaining momentum. “We can add more testimonials as new weddings take place.”
“I suppose I could do that before I leave,” Daisy said hesitantly.
Caroline sighed. “You’d better run this by Aunt Dottie. You don’t want to start something that she doesn’t want to keep up.”
She was obviously the practical one of the bunch.
“That’s right,” Daisy said. “It’s not like any of us plan to stay in Matrimony.”
“True,” Izzy said, her voice strained. “I’ll talk to Aunt Dottie about it later. But meanwhile, I’ll compile some sketches of theme weddings,” Izzy said. “Caroline, you could design a couple custom wedding dresses to add to the bridal boutique.”
“Bridal boutique?” Caroline asked.
“Yes, we’ll divide the space into sections.” Izzy snapped her fingers. “We can call the shop One Stop Weddings and offer everything in one building—bridal gowns, flowers, photography, catering, wedding cakes . . . whatever the bride and groom need.”
A heartbeat passed while Izzy’s sisters looked around the interior of the shop.
“Aunt Dottie’s good with flowers,” Daisy finally said, as if she was warming to the idea. “She could make the wedding bouquets.”
Caroline still didn’t look convinced. “But there’s not a decent place for the wedding party and guests to stay in Matrimony,” Caroline pointed out.
“There’s the old B and B,” Izzy suggested. “Maybe the three of us could invest in it and fix it up.”
Levi gritted his teeth. Yeah, Izzy had her dirty money.
“Wait a minute,” Caroline said. “Who says we want to invest?”
“Or that we have any money to do so if we wanted to,” Daisy said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll cover it.” Izzy’s face practically glowed with excitement. “I know you two don’t believe in me, but I can make this work. We might have created a scandal here years ago, but this time everyone in town will look up to us.”
Levi winced. Izzy must be delusional to think that her deceit wouldn’t catch up with her.
But he needed more evidence before he confronted her. And her wedding business had given him an idea for a cover.
Five days later
Izzy stood behind the edge of the doorway from the kitchen to the parlor like a spy on a mission as she watched her aunt in action.
Once she’d explained the idea for One Stop Weddings, Aunt Dottie had kept the phone buzzing, and now her parlor was brimming over with southern ladies, shortbread cookies, and mint juleps.
Aunt Dottie ditched the brace and was simply using her crutch today. Ruby and Faye, bookends to Aunt Dottie and her best friends, giggled as Dottie rapped the crutch on the table like a gavel to get everyone’s attention.
“This business could save our town,” Aunt Dottie said, her head held high as always.
“Are you sure it’s not a harebrained scheme by your nieces?” Cora Lynn Waters blotted her red lipstick with a paper napkin. “You know they haven’t always been responsible.”
“Responsible?” Uner Pinkerton harrumphed. “Those girls are train wrecks.”
“Wait a minute,” Aunt Dottie said, her voice stern. “They might be train wrecks, but they’re my train wrecks. Besides, they’re all grown up now. And I think this is a good idea. The good Lord knows this town is about half-dead now and needs reviving.”
“We had a revival last summer,” Myrtle Mosely said.
Ruby patted Myrtle’s hand. Everyone knew the woman was half-blind and deaf in one ear. “She meant revive the town, not the revival.”
Faye, the head of the quilting bee, waved a delicate hankie. “Myrtle, she wants to give your bed-and-breakfast a facelift.”
“I don’t need a facelift,” Myrtle said haughtily. “I need a good damn hearing aid.”
Chuckles rumbled through the room, and Ruby leaned over to whisper something to soothe Myrtle.
“We’re talking about fixing up the inn so couples and tourists can stay there,” Ruby said.
Myrtle beamed. “Yes, then I could have enough money for a hearing aid and bunion surgery. I want to be able to wear my sexy sandals again.”
Izzy giggled into her hand, and listened as the others chimed in.
“I’m head of the local garden club,” Edith Burns said. “We can work on landscaping.”
Another lady piped up. “The sewing circle can make new curtains and recover the old chairs and sofas.”
“My Larry at the hardware store can donate supplies for painting and repairs,” Aretha Coleman offered.
Ruby sipped her mint julep. “I’ll personally donate one of my quilts for a bedroom. And I’m sure some of the other ladies from the quilting bee will do the same.”
Aunt Dottie clapped her hands, her hat tilting askew. “You all are so wonderful. Maybe the men from the breakfast club at church can paint and fix up the little chapel on the hill.”
The kitty suddenly ran past Izzy into the room, drawing her aunt’s eyes toward the door.
Izzy darted into the kitchen to escape being caught and hurried to One Stop Weddings. Her heart squeezed as she remembered the way her aunt had stood up for her and her sisters.
She would not let Aunt Dottie down or disappoint her this time.
Daisy was already at the shop, settin
g out teacakes, muffins, and assorted pastries when Izzy arrived.
Anxious to prove Uner Pinkerton wrong about her, Izzy spent the morning putting together themed wedding packages with Pinterest boards to showcase a broad spectrum of ideas.
She also sketched out plans to organize the shop into sections to designate the services they offered, labeling each section with a catchy name: the Floral Nook, Catering Corner (with fresh baked goodies to sample, thanks to Daisy’s desserts), the Bridal Boutique, Groom’s Den and Entertainment Center, and photography services called Memory Book.
Of course, Daisy and Caroline still hadn’t unpacked and constantly dropped reminders that they were leaving town.
“Check this out,” Daisy said as she waved Izzy over to the computer. “You could call the website Destination: Matrimony.”
“That’s brilliant,” Izzy said, grateful that Daisy had agreed to stay a few more days to help.
Daisy shrugged off the compliment. “I also added some testimonials to the site.”
Izzy leaned over Daisy’s shoulders, impressed. Daisy had cut and pasted pictures of their aunt and Uncle Harry, and two other local couples who’d married in the little chapel—couples whose marriages had weathered stormy years and survived. Each couple had given a testimonial on how to make a marriage last.
“What about those?” Izzy asked when she noticed photographs of several young women and their grooms that she didn’t recognize.
Daisy gave her a sheepish look. “I made those up just to get us started. But once we actually host a few weddings—I mean, once Aunt Dottie does—she can replace them with real couples and their stories.”
Izzy laughed. “You’re devious, Daisy.”
“How do you think I survived marriage?”
Izzy studied Daisy, surprised by her comment. So far neither of her sisters had indicated their marriages were anything but perfect.
Could there be trouble in paradise for Daisy?
Levi grimaced as he parked in front of One Stop Weddings.
He’d been biding his time the last few days hoping Elsa would get something concrete on LaPone and Izzy. But she’d come down with the flu and had been home sick. Just what he got for lying and saying she was ill.