Love Blooms

by Jo McNally

  “Not yet. I’d never do that without talking to you first. But...” He sat back in the seat and turned toward her. “It would be a great base for the newest Cooper Landscaping location.”

  Her mouth fell open. “I... I don’t... I think it’s time for you to stop the mysterious act and just tell me straight out what you’re thinking.”

  He slid his arm over her shoulders and unhooked her seat belt with his other so she could slide closer to him. “My dad and I had a long talk. I told him the part of the business I enjoyed was the dirty part. Working with my hands. Actual landscaping instead of selling plants for other people to plant. The guys here think there’s a real opportunity for a good landscaping business. So Dad’s investing the seed money to get it started. The New York division of the family empire.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “This place would be great, but if you don’t like it, we’ll keep looking. Nothing happens from this day forward that you and I don’t both agree on.”

  “So the job is your grand gesture? Bringing Cooper Landscaping here? Turn this into commercial property?”

  “Well...yes about the job. But I want this place to be more than a business. The house is really nice, Luce. And look at that pond! Imagine having our coffee together in the mornings out on that porch, looking down over the valley and the lake. You’d almost be a mountain girl again.”

  She could imagine it. She could see it as real as if she was right there living it. They’d be happy here in that big blue house and that big red barn.

  He pointed at the top of the hill above the farm. “And guess what? There’s a trail that runs along the ridge and right behind the Luke and Whitney’s vineyard. Right down to Rendezvous Falls. We can walk there any time we want.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “You’re perfect, Lucy. You’re what makes everything perfect. I love you.” He started to laugh softly. “God help me, I still want to marry you. But this time you and I make every decision together. No one else.”

  “No one else,” she echoed. “I love you, Owen.”

  They kissed, in the Bronco, next to the For Sale sign. Overlooking the farm that would become their home. The kiss lasted a long, long time. After the kiss, he held her close to his chest. Safe. Warm. Loved.

  She smiled up at him. “It would be a short drive to the flower shop from here.”

  Relief filled his eyes as he nodded. “It would. Although it might be more challenging in the winter.” He kissed her. “I think little Buttercup will have to live in the barn in the winter. We’ll get you something a little more robust for the cold months.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Look at us. Making plans...together.”

  His gaze went solemn and warm.

  “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  “I do. Together is a good thing.”

  He kissed her again.

  “You and I are a very good thing, Lucy. And we’re going to stay that way.”

  She dropped her head back down to his chest, looking out the windshield at the farm. She gave a soft, contented sigh.

  “I know exactly where I want our real wedding to be.”

  He brushed his fingers through her hair.

  “Let me guess...standing on a rock at the bottom of a waterfall?”

  “Wow...you really do know me, Owen Cooper.” She sat up, flashing him a bright smile. “Can we go look at the house?”

  He started the ignition. “Yes, ma’am. I told the Martins you might want to check it out.”

  He drove toward the farmhouse. Lucy gave herself a little hug, and he raised a questioning brow in her direction.

  “We’re going to be happy here,” she explained. Owen nodded.

  “I believe you’re right. We will be.”

  He twined his fingers through hers when they got out of the Bronco, and gave her a boyishly bright grin as they walked up the steps and into their future together.

  EPILOGUE

  “IF I FALL in this mud, I will totally blame you, Owen Cooper.”

  “Oh no you don’t!” Owen laughed, grabbing Lucy’s hand as they walked the path from their house to the vineyard. He’d warned her the trail would be slippery after three days of rain. He’d offered to drive her to the waterfall. Lucy had given him a lengthy explanation of the “symbolism” of walking the path to the falls, like the original couple in the legend had done.

  He’d promised her she’d have exactly the wedding she wanted, and if she wanted them to walk to meet everyone else at the wedding site, then that’s what he’d do.

  She was using her free hand to clutch her cotton skirt up around her waist to keep it clean as they walked. After a dreary week of cold and rain, the weekend had arrived sunny and relatively warm. They started down the hill, and he slid his arm around her waist to be sure she didn’t slip. He couldn’t resist reminding her.

  “This was your idea.”

  “Getting married? You asked me, remember?”

  “You know, that was so long ago I can hardly...”

  “Oh, be quiet, you.” She giggled. She’d been doing a lot of that lately—bright, sparkling giggles. Throughout the exhausting move into their farmhouse, repainting almost every room in the place and trying to make it their own...giggles. Sometimes he’d hear her giggling to herself in a room as he walked by, as if she was so happy she couldn’t contain it. He knew the feeling. He’d been close to giddy himself more than once. It was hard to believe they could both be so happy. But that’s what love did. She was his sunshine surprise every day.

  Cooper Landscaping was off to a busy start in Rendezvous Falls, although the winter months would slow things down a bit. But Lucy was now co-owner of Rendezvous Blooms with Connie, and the winter months would be fairly busy with that business over the holidays and Valentine’s Day. Their incomes would balance out between the two jobs.

  “Stop!” Lucy hissed, and he did, looking at her in confusion.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Shush!” She released his hand. “We’re almost there. Give me the bag!”

  They were at the edge of the woods now, and the ground wasn’t as muddy. Lucy let her skirt drop, brushing her hands down the front to smooth it. She looked like an Earth goddess in the long ivory eyelet dress. The design was simple, but it suited her, with the hemline swishing around her ankles. A ring of fresh flowers in fall colors rested on her head—she and Connie had put it together last night at the house with flowers from the shop. Long beaded ribbons fell from the back of the flower crown. She was his goddess. He still couldn’t believe it. And he’d almost lost her.

  He handed her the bag he’d been carrying. She pulled off her shoes and gasped at the cold of the ground under her toes. She dropped the muddy shoes in the bag and held it up, brows raised.

  “Is this really necessary?” He grumbled the question but tugged his shoes off before waiting for a reply. And damn, the ground was cold. He could only imagine how cold the water in the stream was going to be. He looked at Lucy, and she giggled again.

  Hell, if she’d asked him to stand directly under the freezing waterfall, he’d say yes...just to hear that laughter again. He rolled up his pants, hoping the rain hadn’t made the water too deep for wading.

  “Come on,” Lucy grabbed his hand, her face shining with happiness. She tugged him to follow her. “They’re waiting!”

  * * *

  THE LEGENDARY ROCK was dry on top, but still slippery under their bare, wet feet. More than once, Lucy thought she and Owen would end up sitting in the cold water. But they got through the ceremony—a civil one blessed by Father Brennan—while staying relatively dry.

  The officiants and the guests had stayed on the shore. But Lucy was determined that, barring a downpour, she and Owen were going to stand on this legendary rock and take their vows, sealing them with a kiss that would guarantee they’d be together forever
. After the first wedding fiasco, she wanted everyone to be sure about one thing—this marriage was forever.

  Owen stepped off the rock into the water, grimacing from the cold before smiling up at her. Instead of taking her hand, he swept her off the rock and cradled her in his arms, high and dry as the freezing cold water swirled around his legs.

  “Hello, wife,” he sai, his eyes gleaming with love.

  “Hi, husband.” Her arms wrapped around his neck.

  “I love you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.”

  “That’s good.” He kissed her softly. “Between the justice of the peace, Father Joe’s blessing, and the legend, there’s no way we’re turning back now.”

  She giggled. “Not to mention we have two businesses and a mortgage together. We’re in this for the long haul, mister.”

  He tipped his head back and laughed.

  She’d married a man with the best laugh in the world.

  He walked to the shore and set her down, keeping her in the circle of his arms. They were surrounded by a small group of their closest friends and family. Another group of people, those who didn’t want to deal with hiking and October weather, were waiting at the warm, dry Taggart Inn for a wedding luncheon catered by Nikki.

  “Can we put our shoes on now?” Owen asked, making her laugh.

  “Yes! My feet are freezing!”

  Piper Taggart handed them their shoes, as well as two fluffy towels to dry off with. They sat on a large rock near the water, and she bumped her shoulder against Owen’s. “Thank you for giving me my barefoot wedding.”

  He straightened. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

  “What?”

  “I’d give you the moon if you wanted it, Lucy Hig...” He caught himself and chuckled. “Lucy Cooper. I like the sound of that.”

  “I like it, too. But you can leave the moon where it is. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

  Owen leaned in and kissed her, and she knew she’d never walk away from this man again. He was hers...forever.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Accidental Homecoming by Sabrina York.

  Accidental Homecoming

  by Sabrina York

  CHAPTER ONE

  Of all the reckless things Danny Diem had done in his life, this was by far the most reckless—driving nine hundred miles to the middle of nowhere based on a scrap of a letter, a whisper of hope. But when a guy was as desperate as he was, sometimes reckless was the only option.

  Now, here he was, smack-dab in the middle of the most alien landscape he’d ever experienced. And for a guy born and raised in Las Vegas that was saying a lot.

  Everywhere he looked—left, right, forward, back—there was nothing. Rolling hills of hay-colored grasses as far as the eye could see. No structures. No towns. No living creatures. Just...emptiness. The cloudless sky arched overhead in what seemed like an endless bowl of blue.

  It would have been pretty, he supposed, if wide-open spaces didn’t make him a little twitchy. He was used to the thrum of the city, the glare of neon lights and street noise. Police sirens, boisterous crowds, all-night bacchanals...

  There was no noise out here, other than the whistling of the wind.

  It was downright eerie.

  The only thing that felt familiar to him was the sweltering early September heat as summer refused to quit.

  His GPS told him he was only twenty miles or so from his destination, but he had the sneaking suspicion it was lying. That he would never reach civilization again. That he’d be driving through this barren countryside forever. Hopefully, this whole scenario wasn’t God’s way of making a joke.

  Hot air blew in through his open windows as he zoomed down the deserted two-lane highway that, in parts, didn’t even bother with lane markers. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and trickled between his shoulder blades. The sun baked the exposed side of his face. He reached for his water bottle and then grimaced as he realized it was empty. He resisted the urge to try the air-conditioning again, because he knew damn well it had conked out somewhere in Idaho.

  He’d been foolishly optimistic to think his old ’Vette could make the long trip from Vegas unscathed. But then, when you had few options, it was easy to convince yourself that optimism was realistic. And the letter he’d received had seemed like a lifeline. One he’d never expected. One that made this trip a gamble he couldn’t afford to pass up.

  He glanced at the official-looking document on the passenger seat under his duffle bag, the edges riffling in the wind, and once again, his thoughts returned to his father. That big, looming shadow in his life.

  Whoever he’d been, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with his son, or the woman who had produced him. Strange that now, at the lowest point in Danny’s life, this man might actually come to his rescue.

  No one had ever come to Danny’s rescue before. Other than an on-again, off-again mother and one far-too-short love affair, he’d always been utterly on his own. It had always been up to him to find a way, any way, to wriggle out of his problems. This time, it seemed there was no way out.

  And then the letter had come.

  As legal documents went, it was frustratingly vague. All it said was that Danny was included in the will of a man named Daniel Stirling I, and he was to present himself at the offices of William Watney, Esquire, in the town of Butterscotch Ridge in eastern Washington State. It didn’t specify how much the inheritance was, or why Danny was included. He could only imagine that the deceased was his deadbeat father, the man his mother had cursed since Danny was small. But even that was conjecture. Hell, everything to do with that part of his past was conjecture, considering he knew practically nothing about the man.

  Well, hell. In all likelihood, his inheritance was something useless. Like a grandfather clock or a packet of old love letters. This whole thing was probably a waste of time, but in his dire straits, it was a necessary one.

  His life could hardly get any worse. Could it?

  A huge ker-chunk shook his car and a plume of steam roiled up from under the hood. The car sputtered and jerked, then slowly rolled to a stop on the side of the road.

  Damn. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

  He sighed and reached down to pop the hood, which let out a great gasp of vapor. Awesome. He checked his cell phone, but as he expected, out here there was no reception. He was stranded. In the middle of nowhere, in a hellish summer heat wave.

  Great. Another disaster. He seemed doomed to find them.

  Danny hadn’t seen another car since he’d left the Tri-Cities, and while he’d spotted a solar-powered call box, he couldn’t say how many miles back it had been. He had no idea how far it was to the next town. Too far to walk with no water, for sure.

  The car was fast becoming too hot to sit in, as it soaked up the blistering sunshine, so Danny grabbed his baseball cap, which he hoped would protect him from the heat, propped open the hood in the hopes the engine would cool, then settled down in a slender shady spot on the far side of the car and prayed for someone to come along.

  If he had to, he’d wait until nightfall and then start the long walk to civilization—a gas station, a far-flung country motel, something. Hopefully it would be cooler by then.

  As he settled down to wait, one thought buzzed through his brain. Where on earth had he gotten the idea that Washington State was cold and rainy?

  He must have dozed off, because he woke with a start from a familiar dream when he heard the roar of an approaching engine. The dream was alluring—it was the one he had often, where he and Lizzie were together in each other’s arms. His lips sliding over her skin, tasting her. Her scent engulfing him. The sound of her moan in his ears so vivid it seemed she was right there beside him... The dream came to him so often and felt so real that it was hard to shake. It still clung to him as he leaped to his fe
et and frantically waved his arms.

  An enormous crew cab slowed and pulled to the shoulder in front of Danny’s Corvette, and the driver stepped out. His boots were dusty and well-worn, but it was the Stetson that made clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Danny had landed in cowboy country.

  The man was about his age, maybe a few years older. His face was weathered and his chin sported an auburn bristle. His eyes were gray and he had a friendly smile.

  “Hey there, fella. You need some help?” he asked in a deep, smoker’s rasp.

  “Yeah. If you don’t mind.” Danny gestured at his sad little car. “Engine conked out.”

  The cowboy sauntered over and gave the ’Vette’s engine a quick glance. “Probably the heat. Did you try adding coolant to the radiator?”

  “Uh, I don’t have any.”

  “Water, then?”

  A rush of heat rose on Danny’s face. He’d never felt more stupid. “I’m out of water.” He’d brought plenty—he’d thought—but apparently not enough. He hadn’t realized he’d be traveling through this searing terrain. In rainy Washington State. In September.

  The cowboy didn’t smirk or make a rude comment about city boys. He just nodded, tipped back his hat with a finger and said, “Well, let’s have a look.”

  He bent over the engine and fiddled with this or that—Danny had no idea, because, honestly, he knew little to nothing about mechanical things—and then the fellow grunted. “Well, water won’t help. Looks like your whole radiator’s blown. You’re gonna need a tow. Can I give you a ride to town?”

  Danny blew out a sigh of relief, took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his brow. “That would be great.” He turned to the cowboy with a grin, only to discover that the guy was staring at him.

  As soon as he realized that Danny had noticed his sharp attention, he averted his gaze. “I’m Chase McGruder, by the way,” he said, thrusting out his hand.

  “Danny. Danny Diem.”

  Chase narrowed his eyes. “Have we met?”