Can't Stop Loving You (5 page)

T
hey want to do what?” Phone to her ear, Maggie dropped the sweater she'd been folding onto the display table and collapsed into a chair. “Mom, that's not possible. Today's Tuesday.”

Her mother's sigh made it clear she'd get no argument from her.

“They're dead set on it, Maggie. Come hell or high water, Fletch and Dottie intend to get married this Saturday in her garden. Lacey and Wes are flying in Friday with their families.”

“Where will they stay?”

“With Dottie. She insists she's got plenty of room. Can you meet us this afternoon?”

Maggie ran a mental scan of her day's schedule. “Today's tough. Ella McCormack's coming in for an interview at two, and I'm expecting a shipment later this afternoon. I really can't promise to be there before six, Mom.”

“That'll work. I'll call Dottie. Plan on dinner here. I'll fix something girlie for us. Your dad can eat at the café or at Bubba's again.”

“Sounds good.” Maggie took another peek at the clock, trying to decide which of today's have-to-dos could wait till tomorrow. “When you talk to Dottie, tell her I'll pick her up. No sense both of us driving.”

Maggie stomped on the little voice that wondered if Brawley might be hanging around when she stopped at Dottie's. Not wondered, she corrected. Worried. Because she did not want to see him.

“Sophie and Annie would probably love to help,” Maggie added.

“Good idea. With both of them recent brides, they'll be up on all the latest, no doubt have some great ideas. Will you check with them?”

“I can do that.” She moved behind the counter and picked up a
Town and Country Weddings
magazine a client had left behind. She tucked it into her purse. It might come in handy.

“Good. I'll make extra food—not that either of them eats enough to keep a sparrow alive.” After a slight pause, her mom said, “Ella McCormack. Tunney's widow?”

“Yes.”

“Fate sure dealt those two a cruel hand. So young.”

“I know. She called me first thing this morning to ask if the job was still open. To be honest, and shame on me, I was a little hesitant to even interview her.”

“Why?”

“She's a single mom with two kids. And before you nag me about how unfair that is, I'll admit you're right. But it's not like I'm hiring somebody to fill in a few hours once in a while. I'll be halfway across the country, so I need someone I can count on. Every single day.”

“I'll be here, honey. I can always take over in a pinch.”

“I appreciate that, Mom, but you shouldn't have to. Anyway, I thought about it some more. Both Ella's kids are in school. Her mother-in-law lives in town and has offered to watch Benjy and Sadie after school. The bus will drop them off at her place till Ella closes up, so that part should be okay.”

“I hope it works,” her mom said. “With two children, I'm sure Ella can use both the extra money and a little adult socialization. Besides, it'll give the kids some grandma time. That's important. Even though they all live in Lone Tree, I'm sure Tunney's mom worries about losing touch with them now that he's gone.”

A few minutes later, Maggie hung up and sent texts to Annie and Sophie.
Pops & D 2 marry this wkend. Yikes! Can u help? Tonite @ Mom's. 6:00. Dinner included.

She hoped they could both make it. The extra hands would be welcome. Less than four days to plan and execute a wedding? By itself, nearly impossible. On top of everything else she needed to do before leaving? Oh, boy.

Overwhelming.

Maybe she needed to think of it in terms of the old joke about how to eat an elephant. One bite at a time. Somehow or other, it would all get done.

Standing at her shop's display window, Maggie looked out over Lone Tree's main street. So much was changing so quickly. Fingering her pretty lace curtains, she wondered if she was truly ready. She had a good life here. Was happy.

Would she ever again stand here all alone in her pretty little shop, her family and friends close? Her workroom in the back had provided a haven. She could hide there with her beautiful fabrics, and with pencil, paper, scissors, and sewing machine, bring her ideas to life.

Could she turn all this over to Ella McCormack, or anyone else for that matter?

And home. Once Pops and Dottie got married— Well, she couldn't even begin to imagine it. Maggie and her grandfather enjoyed each other's company. They'd settled into a routine. She liked living with him. Liked the familiarity of the house she'd romped in as a child. That would change after this weekend.

Fleetingly, she wondered where they'd decide to live. Which house they'd eventually choose. She smiled, imagining Pops living in Dottie's Candy Land–pink house. That should be interesting.

But, then, she wouldn't be here to watch, would she?

It had been her decision to follow her dreams. Her decision to leave all this, all the people she loved, life as she knew it, to go to New York.

And while it was exciting, it loomed over her as more than a little frightening. A dose of the old “be careful what you wish for”?

It felt a little like jumping off a cliff without a parachute. Thrilling? Yes. And more than a little dangerous.

Still holding her phone, she called Pops and filled him in on her mother's plans. “So you're on your own for dinner.”

“Think I can manage to feed myself, girl. You have fun and help Dottie. The woman's a nervous wreck over this.”

“You two didn't give us much time to pull everything together, Pops.”

“Be plenty of time if you females could keep things simple. Don't see why there has to be such a fuss. Be a heck of a lot easier to give Father Tom a call and have him meet us at the house. He pronounces us man and wife, then we all run down to Sally's and grab some lunch.”

Maggie laughed. “Boy, aren't you the romantic?”

“I can be. When the situation warrants it. Got the woman to say yes, didn't I?”

“You sure did. I love you, Pops, and it appears Dottie does, too. I still can't believe I missed all the signs.”

“It's 'cause you're busy.”

“Guess so.” Guilt dropped over her. Was she really that wrapped up in herself that she'd missed something so big, so momentous? “However, Pops, as much as we all love you, your plan won't wash.”

He harrumphed. “Silly to waste time and money on all this foolishness.”

“Dottie wants it.”

“So she'll get it,” he conceded, his voice softening.

Yes, she would, Maggie thought as she ended the call. Between friends and family, they'd make Saturday's wedding special.

And she could add to it by creating the perfect dress for Dottie. Something light and floaty, something exactly right for a garden wedding.

Ideas chasing each other through her head, she grabbed a pencil and her sketch pad. As the design began to take form, she grinned and lost herself in what she loved to do. The dress would have to be pink, of course. A soft petal pink. Maybe a matching tie for Pops.

Oh, yeah. She could do this.

In between customers, she tweaked the design, then sketched a second to give Dottie a choice. Still, she really hoped Dottie would go with the first.

Fortunately she'd thrown a salad together before she left the house this morning. Digging it out of her small back room fridge, she munched on it while she made lists of all the things she needed to do this week.

Dottie's son would walk her down the aisle, and Maggie's dad had been tapped as best man. Maybe she'd make them matching ties as well. If they survived the pre-wedding madness, Saturday should be fun.

When the bell over the door jangled, she glanced up, her shop-owner's smile on her face.

Ella McCormack walked in, and Maggie knew instinctively she was the one. Casual elegance with an air of competence and self-assurance but without any of the arrogance that sometimes accompanied that demeanor. In slim navy pants and a white top, her blond hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, Ella looked the consummate professional. Maggie preferred bold color choices for herself, but Ella would serve as the perfect backdrop for the store's merchandise.

The two had met before but they'd never exchanged much more than the polite talk between strangers. Maggie fixed them each a cup of coffee, and they sat in the shop's deep armchairs.
Simpatico
, Maggie realized. Ella was made for this job. At thirty-eight, she brought a certain maturity with her that put to rest Maggie's fears.

Her chest tightened. This was a big step. She would be entrusting everything she'd worked so hard to build to Ella. Putting it all in her hands.

Understanding that, Ella offered to stay for the rest of the afternoon. Kind of a trial-by-fire. “If you don't like the way I interact with customers, just say the word and I leave. No harm, no foul, and no hard feelings,” she promised.

“I have no doubt you'll be wonderful with them,” Maggie said. “But it would be great if you could stay, since our biggest problem is time. We only have two weeks before I leave, so the sooner you start learning the ropes, the better. There are supplies to order, books to keep. Stock to rotate. So many details. My mom has offered to help in a pinch if you need her.”

“So I'm hired?”

“You are.”

Ella's eyes closed fleetingly. When she opened them, they were filled with emotion. “Thank you. I won't let you down.” She took a deep breath. “You must be so excited.”

“I am.” Maggie grinned. “And more than a bit nervous. I've never, ever lived anywhere except the Texas hill country. I grew up in Maverick Junction, then moved here to Lone Tree to live with my grandfather.”

“After your grandma passed away.”

Maggie nodded.

“Trudy was a wonderful woman. She baked the most incredible chocolate pies.”

At Maggie's startled expression, Ella laughed softly. “Tunney and I went to the same church as your grandparents. Once in a while, she'd bring one of her pies for bazaars and such.”

While they talked, they folded stock and rearranged racks. They worked well together. When customers came in, Maggie introduced them to Ella, then stepped back, only offering help when needed.

Ella proved a quick study. She'd do well.

Maggie was both relieved and saddened. Today marked an end as well as a beginning.

Locking up that afternoon, she waved good-bye to Ella and stood in the door watching as she headed off to pick up her kids. Maggie decided against running home to change. Her aqua linen slacks and print top would be fine. The shoes would go, though, as soon as she hit her mother's front door. She'd spent a lot of the day on her feet.

Her mind was a disaster. Too much thinking, too much rolling things around in her head, which was beginning to ache. Once in her car, she popped a couple aspirin, slid a country-western CD in the player, and cranked up the volume. She opened the sunroof and relished the play of fresh air over her. Singing along with Tim McGraw, she drove to Maverick Junction in record time.

Turning into Dottie's, she saw the kitchen light on. God, after this weekend, this would be her step-grandmother's house. How strange was that?

An image of Vivi, Cash's twenty-eight-year-old scheming step-grandmother, flashed through her mind, and she thanked God Fletch had more sense than to get mixed up with someone like that.

She walked up to the house, but before she even had time to knock, Dottie called for her to come in. Maggie stepped into the pink-on-pink kitchen and there sat Brawley at the counter, dunking one of Dottie's famous chocolate chip cookies into a big glass of milk.

“Hey, Red.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“Do us all a favor and pull up a stool. These cookies”—he held up what remained of the one in his hand—“can't be beat. They'll wipe that frown off your face.”

“I'm not frowning.”

“Yes, you are.”

She made an exasperated sound, then decided not to give him the satisfaction of an argument. “I totally agree about the cookies, but I really don't have time. I have somewhere I have to be. Dottie does, too, so you'll need to run along now.”

Surprise registered on Dottie's face, and Maggie felt a flush of embarrassment. Yes, she'd been rude, but damned if she'd apologize. Brawley had a way of bringing out the worst in her, and she suspected a lot of it was intentional.

“He has time to finish, honey, while I freshen up and grab my purse.”

Maggie threw her a forced smile. “Great.”

The instant Dottie rounded the corner, Brawley grabbed her hand and gave it a good tug. She gasped and found herself sitting on the stool beside him.

“No need to get all wound up, Mags.” He dunked his cookie again. Instead of popping it into his mouth, he held it up to hers. Surprising herself, she opened her mouth, took a bite, and closed her eyes. Oh, yeah. Dottie baked the best cookies this side of the Mississippi.

“Want more?”

Her eyes flew open. Brawley had moved in, his lips only a few inches from hers.

She swallowed. “Go away, Brawley.”

“Not gonna happen, sugar.”

“Don't call me that.”

“You'd prefer vinegar, maybe? Might actually suit your disposition better.”

“I'll tell you what I'd prefer. You—”

“Okay, sweetheart, I'm ready.” Dottie bustled into the kitchen, purse strap over her arm. When Brawley started to rise, she waved him back into his seat. “Don't. You're fine. Stay as long as you want and eat as many of those as you'd like.” She nodded toward the plate of cookies. “When you're done, just turn the lock and pull the door shut. I have my key.”

“Is your porch light on?” he asked.

“Yes, dear.” She kissed his cheek. “It's so nice having you here.”

“Not everybody agrees with that.” He eyed Maggie.