Close To Christmas, A Westen Series Novella

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Close To Christmas, A Westen Series Novella Page 3

by Suzanne Ferrell


  Bobby laughed. While Henry was the artistic center of the flower shop, Margaret was both a whirlwind of activity and business savvy. Keeping her down would be like trying to rein in a mid-western tornado. “Well, if anyone can keep your wife off her feet, it would be Harriett.”

  “This is true. Mags did get her to agree to let her come to the wedding, but promised not to help with any of the flowers. Good thing I have Penny here to help me. It was a godsend that she was available and needing work at the time Mags got injured.” Henry pulled out the big leather-bound calendar the couple used to keep all their records organized. “So, let’s check your order. I believe we have all the arrangements for the reception at the town hall ready to go. Would you like to see one?”

  “Yes, I’d love to.” Bobby couldn’t contain her excitement. She turned to her sister as he disappeared through the frosted glass door into the work room. “Henry does such lovely work.”

  “That’s what you said when you refused to use the friend I recommended.” Chloe gave her a skeptical look.

  Bobby wanted to give her the same look back, but Henry exited the work room and with a flourish set the large arrangement in front of her. “For the wedding party’s table,” he said, beaming from ear to ear.

  The cloying scent hit Bobby like a sledgehammer. She gripped Chloe’s arm and held tight.

  Stargazer lilies.

  She wouldn’t be able to stay too long or they’d trigger a migraine. The damn flowers did it every time. Add that to the fact they’d been in overabundance at their parents’ funeral twenty years ago and anyone could understand her hatred of the beautiful pink-and-white flowers.

  When she took two steps back, the smile fell from Henry’s face.

  “Is there something wrong, Miss Bobby?” he asked. “I made sure we used the lilies just like the order said.”

  “Do you need to leave?” Chloe asked.

  Bobby shook her head and held her hand over her mouth and nose. “I didn’t order Stargazers. You know I can’t be around them.”

  Poor Henry looked devastated and confused. “I truly am sorry. I followed the directions Mags wrote down exactly.”

  “It’s okay, Henry, really. I just have a bad reaction to those flowers. I’m sure I told Margaret that.”

  Chloe seemed to read her mind. “Okay, why don’t you step outside a minute and let me talk to Mr. Dubois. I’m sure there’s been a simple error.”

  As they opened the door, Henry came through with a chair and set it on the sidewalk for Bobby. Then he stood to the side, wringing his hands in apparent distress. “Are you going to be okay, Miss Bobby?”

  Bobby took a few breaths of the cold winter air, clearing her nose and head slightly. At least enough that she could muster a smile. “I think so, Henry, now that I’m away from the lilies. I just don’t understand how Margaret got the order so wrong.”

  “I can call her to find out, but the bigger problem is we did all the arrangements in those flowers, I don’t have enough different flowers to make the arrangements again.” He started to pace the walkway a little, shivering in his shirtsleeves when a gust of wind hit him.

  Bobby looked at Chloe, grateful to see concern for the elderly florist on her usually very stoic face. Chloe nodded, understanding that Bobby needed her to handle this problem and handle it before poor Henry caught pneumonia. Whipping out her cell phone she gently grasped Henry’s arm, stopping his movements. “Mr. Dubois—”

  “Henry, please. Everyone just calls me Henry,” he said and another shiver went through him.

  “Henry,” she said with a soft smile. “Bobby will be just fine out here. Why don’t you and I go inside and see if we can solve this problem. My friend Kathleen is a florist in Columbus. Let’s give her a call and see if she can help us.”

  Bobby relaxed back in the chair as Chloe herded Henry back into his shop.

  How had Margaret gotten the order so wrong? They’d talked several times about what flowers Bobby wanted. She was sure she’d told her red roses, white calla lilies and hydrangeas that would look like snowballs in the arrangements. They’d talked about how much it was a shame she couldn’t use Stargazer lilies because of her adverse reaction to them. They’d so compliment the red and white theme.

  Thank goodness they caught the mistake today while there was some time to fix it.

  What else could go wrong before the wedding?

  * * * * *

  “Four dozen roses, red and white. Two dozen red Gerbera daisies, or as many as you can get on such short notice. One dozen calla lilies, holly berry stems and two dozen white hydrangeas to look like snowballs,” Chloe repeated the order back to her old college roommate, Kathleen and Henry nodded as he jotted the numbers in the registry.

  “Do you need greenery and baby’s breath for filler?” Kathleen asked.

  “No, Mr. Dubois has extra evergreen and baby’s breath. You’ll have them here tomorrow morning?”

  “As long as a blizzard doesn’t roll into Ohio.”

  “Oh, God, don’t even think that. Last thing I want is to be snowed in and have to stay here longer than the weekend.” Chloe couldn’t help the shudder that went through her, but winked at Henry to ease the sting of her words. The town was the sweet old man’s home after all. She couldn’t help it if she was a city girl through and through. But for once she was actually glad to be out of Cincinnati. At least here she could get some peace and quiet, not constantly looking over her shoulder.

  “I’ll be in Westen before noon.”

  Chloe covered the phone. “Will noon be good for you, Henry?”

  “Why, yes. That should give me plenty of time to get the new arrangements made.” He paused, a worried look crossing his face. “What will the final cost be?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll cover the cost, Henry,” she said. “I’ll call it a wedding gift to my sister and Gage.” He relaxed and gave her a sweet smile. Returning it, she uncovered her phone to answer her friend. “I’ll meet you at Petal Pushers then. Safe travels tomorrow, Kathleen.” Checking the phone log again, she saw no other calls had come on, thank God. She slipped her phone back into her bag and glanced out the window to see Bobby talking with two older ladies who looked exactly alike right down to the pink cheeks and red noses. Just add red suits and black belts and you’ve got twin female Santas.

  Chloe shook her head at her own fancifulness. Half a day in this quaint little town and she was starting to sound like her older sister. The color had returned to Bobby’s face, though. That eased some of the tension between her shoulder blades. She wished some of her other problems could be resolved as easily as the flower issue.

  The door to the workroom opened behind Henry. A dark-haired woman dressed in a 70s-style bohemian top and skirt, glasses, and either slouching or with an odd curve to her spine stepped into the showroom.

  “Mr. Dubois, what did you want to do with all these arrangements?” the woman asked in a voice not too old, nor too young. She picked up the offensive vase of flowers. Her makeup foundation was either an odd color or she had a skin condition, because her hands were much lighter than her face.

  “Oh, Penny, I’m not sure. Miss Bobby did pay half down on those already.” And with that, Henry was wringing his hands again.

  Chloe resisted the urge to roll her eyes in exasperation. Bobby had drummed the idea of compassion into her as a teenager and she worked hard to remember those lessons as she plastered another friendly smile on her face. “Henry, is there a nursing home or seniors’ center nearby?”

  The hand wringing stopped. Henry’s brows lifted along with his lips. “Yes. There’s an assisted-living center with a nursing home for those needing more care.”

  “I’m sure Bobby wouldn’t mind those arrangements going to the folks over there. We’ll just take her down payment and apply it to those and like I said, I’ll be paying for the extra cost for the arrangements you and Kathleen will be making tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  “Excellent!” He turned
to his helper. “Penny, let’s load those into the van and you can take them over this afternoon.”

  “I’ll get right to it, Mr. Dubois.” The assistant cast an angry look at Chloe, but it was gone so quickly she had to wonder if she’d imagined it as the other woman disappeared into the workroom.

  Odd.

  The bells on the front door jangled and in Bobby walked back in. “Is it safe now?”

  “All Stargazers are gone,” Chloe said. “We’re sending them to the seniors’ assisted-care center.”

  “What a wonderful idea.”

  The delighted smile on her older sister’s face made all the effort and patience worth it to Chloe. Bobby might think she was a nag, but her sister had given up so much for her and Dylan after their parents died—giving up her college education, keeping them all together, giving up dating or any chance of a family of her own—she’d do anything to make sure she was happy. Even accepting the idea that Bobby had chosen this tiny town on the edge of Amish country as her new home.

  They finished conferring with Henry about tomorrow’s plans and the exact arrangements Bobby wanted—Chloe making notes along with the florist, just to be sure they were all on the same page this time. Finally, they said their goodbyes and stepped back out onto the cold sidewalk once more.

  “Jeez. You couldn’t pick a summer wedding? Like say on a beach in the Caribbean? You had to pick winter in Ohio?” Chloe muttered as they headed to the parking lot and her Beemer.

  Bobby laughed and tucked her arm through hers. “You sound just like Gage. He only stopped grumbling when I told him he’d have to wait another six months for that wedding. Besides, I wanted to honor Mom and Dad by getting married on their anniversary. This way I’ll feel like they’re with us.”

  Trust Bobby to say the one thing that would stop her from complaining about the winter wedding. “Oh, okay, if you’re going to be all sentimental about it, I guess I can live with your wedding being in the winter.” She made a face at her sister and they both cracked up as they climbed into the car.

  “So, what brings you into Westen a day early?” Bobby asked.

  “I know you’ve had bridal showers and parties with all your friends here in Westen, but Dylan and I thought we might like to have some sister-only time with you tonight.”

  “Oh, dear Lord. You two aren’t planning a bachelorette party, are you?” The look of pure terror on Bobby’s face caught Chloe as she started to put the car into reverse.

  “We ought to, just to get even with you for all those prom pictures you insisted on taking of us every time we turned around.”

  “One day you’ll look back on those pictures and be glad I forced you to pose for them.”

  “Yeah, we’ll laugh at the bad hair styles and ugly dresses.”

  “And even uglier dates.”

  They both laughed.

  “As much as we might like to torture you with a drunken bachelorette party, Dylan and I just want to spend one more night with you before you become an old married woman.”

  “Oh. That would be lovely.”

  The catch in Bobby’s voice caused Chloe to glance quickly at her sister then back at the road. Tears had formed in her eyes and she’d dabbed at them with the knuckle of one hand.

  “Do you think Gage would mind you spending tonight at the inn with Dylan and me? She’s supposed to be here by seven.”

  “I don’t think he’ll mind in the least. The guys are throwing him a bachelor party out at Deke’s cabin tonight.”

  “Great. We’ll make it a slumber party, eat bad food and dance to oldies like we used to do.”

  “As I recall, you two did the dancing and eating bad food,” Bobby said with a laugh.

  “True, but you ate cold pizza with us for breakfast the next morning.”

  Suddenly, Bobby held up a hand. “Please, don’t remind me. Even the thought has me wanting to hurl.”

  After parking the car in front of the sheriff’s office, Chloe turned to her sister. “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you react so physically to things like you have today.”

  Bobby shook her head, gave her a half-smile and laid a hand over hers. “I know. I think it’s just nerves about the wedding. It’s sweet of you to worry, but really, I’m okay.”

  Chloe studied her a moment longer, looking for any signs that her sister was sicker than she was admitting. Actually, if it weren’t for the odd reactions to things today, she’d say Bobby looked quite healthy. “Okay. Then let’s go break the news to the big guy that Dylan and I are kidnapping you tonight.”

  * * * * *

  Cold air blasted across Wes’ face. He looked up to see Bobby and her sister enter the office. He nodded hello, then went back to reading the article he had on his computer.

  Out of habit he’d arranged his desk so his back was to the wall and he could monitor all points of egress into the room. Now he was glad that no one could see the screen without being directly behind him. It would be awkward at best to explain to his boss why he was researching his soon-to-be-sister-in-law’s background. But something in her manner today with the phone and looking over her shoulder had set his internal warning bells off. He never ignored those bells. They’d saved his life more than once.

  “Hey, good-looking,” Gage said, rising to pull Bobby in tight and kiss her.

  Wes glanced up again, this time his gaze locking onto the dark eyes of Chloe Roberts. She nodded towards Gage and Bobby then shook her head. He gave her a shrug. Over the last months all the deputies had gotten used to the public displays of affection between the pair. Bobby’s sister would, too.

  “So, what have you two been up to?” Gage said, finally releasing his fiancée and settling back into his chair.

  “Had a hair and nail appointment with Sylvie.” Bobby perched one hip onto his desk, loosened the buttons of her coat and held out her hand.

  “And I like both.”

  “I tried to get her to cut it in a shorter, more chic style, but she wouldn’t even think of cutting it.” Chloe stepped over to the front window that gave a view of Main Street, looking first one way and then the other.

  Something definitely has her on edge.

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” Gage said, grinning at Bobby.

  “Oh, don’t get too cocky,” Bobby warned. “Just because I didn’t cut it today, doesn’t mean when the mood hits me I won’t lop it off shorter than Chloe’s.”

  “I won’t push my luck then,” Gage said.

  Bobby laughed. “I also wanted to let you know that while you’re spending the evening playing poker, drinking beer and smoking cigars with all your friends and deputies, I’m going to spend the night at the Westen Inn with my sisters.”

  “The whole night?” Gage sounded so disappointed, Wes almost laughed. Almost.

  “Yes. All night. Like an old-fashioned slumber party.” Bobby leaned and kissed him. “Besides it’s been a long time since I spent time alone with them. Probably not since Chloe left for college.”

  “Then I won’t worry about driving home from Wes’ place if I have too much to drink.”

  “Yeah, like that’s happening,” Wes said.

  Bobby gave him a knowing look. Gage never overindulged. As sheriff, he had too much responsibility.

  “So what’s next on your agenda?” Gage asked.

  “I’m going out to chat with Doc Clint.”

  All teasing left Gage’s face and dropped his hand on her knee. “Something wrong? Are you okay?”

  Bobby laid her hand over his. “I’m fine. I promise.”

  “So why the visit to my cousin’s husband?” Gage’s voice still held a thread of worry.

  Something in the words between them caught Wes’ attention. It wasn’t normal for Gage to be overly concerned about Bobby’s health. Was there something going on they weren’t sharing with anyone else? He glanced at Chloe, who’d turned to study her sister and Gage. From the look on her face, if there was something physically wrong with Bobby, she hadn’t shared it w
ith her sister, that was for sure.

  “You know Margaret Dubois has been at home recovering from that near hit-and-run a few weeks back?” Bobby said.

  “Haven’t found any car that fits that description,” Wes said, leaning his elbow on his desk. “My guess it was a tourist who’d had a little too much to drink over at the Wagon Wheel that evening. Did you come up with some new information?”

  Bobby flashed him a half smile. “I know. We’ll probably never know who caused her accident, but that’s not what’s got me concerned. I’m just worried she might’ve been more injured than we really know.”

  “Why? What’s got you worried?” Gage asked, all professional-sheriff again.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Chloe said, finally leaving her vigil at the window to pace over near her sister. “The old lady got her flower order wrong for the wedding and we had to ditch all the arrangements, order more flowers and promise to help make them tomorrow.”

  “Mags made a mistake?” Gage asked Bobby, then glanced over at Wes.

  He agreed. Mags Dubois was the sharpest seventy-year-old woman he’d ever met. She ran Petal Pushers like his Army drill sergeant. It wasn’t like her to make a mistake.

  “She ordered all the arrangements for the wedding to include Stargazer lilies,” Bobby said. “Lots of them.”

  “Stargazer lilies? For you?” Gage shook his head. “Mags knows you can’t have those. The one and only time those were in the flowers I brought you, you reacted so badly that she said she’d make a note in her do not send file.”

  “The florist has a do not send file?” Chloe asked, sounding surprised instead of belligerent for once.

  Gage nodded. “Mags is big on customer service. If someone is allergic to or dislikes a certain flower, she makes a note in the file so that customer never receives the flowers by accident.”

 

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