Painted Petals

by Kassandra Lea

  Painted Petals

  By Kassandra Lea

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2018 Kassandra Lea

  ISBN 9781634865449

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  Painted Petals

  By Kassandra Lea

  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 1

  Winter still held the state firmly in its clutches, with everything coated in a layer of snow. But the beautiful bouquets in the grocery store and displayed in the window of the florist gave hope that spring would eventually come. Besides, for Clara Dickens it was easier to see the blooms that way than thinking of their real purpose. It was February, the month for lovers. Everywhere she turned there were hearts and cute stuffed animals and reminders that the fourteenth was drawing ever closer.

  Valentine’s Day.

  Her feelings on the holiday, if it could even be called that, were mixed. On one hand, she liked the sentiment behind it, but why show your love only because the calendar and stores said to? She found more meaning in a handful of wildflowers given to her on a Friday in May than lavish presents on Valentine’s Day.

  Of course, not everyone saw it that way, so Clara often kept her mouth shut on the subject. Her view had nothing to do with a bitter breakup a few years back, but the whole relationship angle certainly threw its two cents into the ring this time around. New love. It bathed her in warmth from head to toe, thinking of her current squeeze.

  As Clara wheeled her cart by a display of lovey-dovey cards she wondered what Asher thought of the whole ordeal. Was he sweating like some other men as he tried to figure out what the best gift was for her? Was he cooking up romantic plans? Should she be giving more thought to the day?

  Should I buy him a little something? Maybe a heart of sweet chocolates or a cute little stuffed monkey telling him how crazy I am about him? Do I buy him a card with a mushy phrase or one that will make him laugh?

  “Hello, Clara, dear.”

  She looked up, already smiling, always happy to see her receptionist and good friend Miss Maggie. The kind middle-aged lady was the first to welcome her to town when she arrived about a year ago, and now Clara couldn’t imagine life without her. Miss Maggie was pleasantly plump, had recently dyed her hair in varying shades of blue, and knew everything worth knowing about the people of Sugarbush Creek.

  Clara’s vet clinic, The Ark, was closed for the day except for emergencies; which would come through on her cell phone. As much as she adored the townsfolk and their critters, even she needed a day off now and then, especially when her fridge started looking bare and the furry critter she shared her house with needed treats.

  “Always nice to see you, Miss Maggie.” The older lady was inspecting the selection of candies, from the classic heart-shaped boxes of chocolate to less than appetizing gummy hearts. “Have you found a new special someone?”

  Mr. Maggie had gone to the big snow globe in the sky a few years back. Clara wished she’d had a chance to meet the man that worshipped her friend. He must have been an amazing person and she couldn’t help feeling he would have filled the hole left by her father’s passing. Much the way Miss Maggie felt like a second mom. In the picture Miss Maggie placed on the desk near her monitor, her dearly departed husband could have easily passed for Santa, his smile lighting up his entire face.

  She must miss him something fierce this time of year. Or any holiday.

  Permanently losing the one she loved, the man she planned to spend her whole life with, was one of the biggest fears Clara had.

  Imagine giving one’s whole life to another, trusting them with your heart, devoting your days to them and planning out the future just to wake up one morning without them. All of it lost. How does someone get over that sort of heartache? Oh Maggie, you’re an amazing woman.

  “Oh, sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m looking for a little something for my grandkids. V-Day isn’t just for lovers, you know.”

  “Have you found anything you like?” She spied Miss Maggie’s empty cart.

  “I’m torn between going traditional and grabbing a bag of candy hearts, or trying something else. The boxes of chocolates are out. They’re much too picky for those,” she mused.

  An idea occurred to Clara. She was already planning to do a little baking, always offering treats to the owners of her patients. What could it hurt to add a few more cookies or cupcakes to the batch? She said as much to Miss Maggie, having already thought out the delicious treats. Strawberry cupcakes with cream cheese frosting dyed bright red, a chocolate heart atop each one. The cookies would be filled with the appropriate holiday-colored chocolate chips. Maybe she’d even get fancy and dip one end of each cookie in red chocolate. Just thinking of the sweets made her stomach growl.

  Miss Maggie’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll take you up on your offer on one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “We finish up our shopping and have lunch next door at the café.”

  “Deal.” She could already taste the cheddar potato soup, a chunk of fresh Italian bread, and a cup of hot cocoa to wash it all down with.

  It wasn’t like she would have to worry about her cold stuff, what with the February temperatures barely reaching double digits. As much as she adored winter, even she loomed forward to spring, the flowers making her wistful for evenings on the porch with a good book and a glass of lemonade.

  Or, better yet, snuggling up under the stars with her boyfriend.

  Clara wheeled her cart by the candy, having agreed to meet Miss Maggie by the registers in fifteen minutes. She pushed all thoughts of the upcoming day out of her mind, focusing on the list she wrote up before leaving the house. Most of her purchases came from the baking aisle. Fruits and veggies, especially those favored by her main squeeze, Rabitat, joined a loaf of bread and milk. Before long the remaining item on her list was dinner followed by a question mark. What, she wondered, would be good? What was she in the mood for?

  Clara slow cruised past the meats. Burgers and pork ribs and chicken. None of it jumped out at her as appetizing. She turned her cart to the frozen foods, eyeing the variety of pizzas. Yes, exactly what she wanted. Adding a pepperon
i pizza to her goods she declared her shopping done and went to pay, finding Miss Maggie just finishing up.

  “I’m beginning to think it’ll never be warm again,” George Randolph commented, stepping into line behind Clara. As one of the sheriff deputies George’s days were busy with accidents brought about by the overabundance of snow. This was the talk of the talk of the town, as they’d already reached the seasonal average and crossed the threshold with more of the white stuff forecasted.

  “I hear some of the ranchers are getting worried,” Penny Jones added in her two cents while ringing up Clara’s purchases. A single mother of one, Penny came by the clinic to have Clara treat her son’s cockatoo. “Mr. Dochese has been rumbling about the price of hay from down south.”

  Clara considered her own beloved cowboy. If Asher was experiencing any trouble with feeding his cattle or horses he hadn’t said anything to her. But would he? If there was one thing she’d learned about Asher Barlow it was the sense of pride that came with running the generations-old Sugarbush Ranch. The land, the animals—some of which could be traced back to the founding critters—and all the history ran through his blood, and Clara knew she would always place second to the homestead. Surprisingly she was fine with that, just another part of loving a cowboy.

  Love.

  Did she love Asher? With all her heart and soul? Did he feel the same? Was she safe with him? Could she trust him to take care of her heart? Their relationship was still young, not even a full two months old. What if she gave him everything she had only to wind up brokenhearted once again? That was the risk, she knew, being left shattered and in tears.

  “Come on, dear,” Miss Maggie said, taking her by the arm. “I can tell there’s a storm kicking up in that mind of yours. Let’s eat and you can tell me what has you troubled so.”

  Chapter 2

  A handful of minutes later Clara ducked into the welcoming warmth of The Range, an appropriately themed café with food to die for and every item on the menu sourced locally. Miss Maggie grabbed a table near the front, providing them with a view of Main Street. As Clara sat she couldn’t help marveling at how quickly things changed. It seemed like yesterday that the light poles had been entwined with evergreen and lights, every shop with a Christmas display in their front windows.

  Those decorations were gone, replaced with items of pink and red and white, and there were hearts everywhere. On virtually every surface. Even the postman had decked out his truck with a huge magnetic heart, the traditional cupid’s arrow through it. There was a special quaintness to small-town living, one Clara always found charming. Everyone, like a big happy family, got involved in the festivities.

  Let’s see how green this town gets for St Patrick’s Day.

  The waitress swung by to get their order. Clara was unable to resist the soup, and Miss Maggie chose a ham chowder. Their drinks arrived rather quickly. Clara wrapped her hands around the mug, breathing in the sweet scent.

  “I hope you never move somewhere without proper winters,” said Miss Maggie. “Or I fear you’ll miss your friend there.” She indicated the mug. Clara laughed, which made her friend smile. “Ah, there we go, I was wondering what happened to that joyful light.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you’ve been moping around the clinic all week.”

  Clara arched an eyebrow in silent question. Had she been? “Oh?”

  “So, out with it. What are you troubling over?”

  There was no point in denying her, Clara knew. Miss Maggie always got to the bottom of everything.

  “It’s the festivities, I’m afraid.”

  “Are things not going well between you and Asher? You two seemed very happy at dinner the other night.”

  The fact that Miss Maggie had seen them didn’t bother Clara. It was a small town. “Things are good, smashing, in fact.” She smiled wistfully, gazing out at the snow. Cars passed down the slushy street, people navigating the sidewalks. “I couldn’t be happier. Asher is amazing. Everything I want in a guy and more.”

  “But?”

  “What am I supposed to do about Valentine’s Day?”

  “Ah, that’s what you’ve been agonizing over. Usually it’s the guy doing that.”

  The conversation halted as the waitress brought their food. Steam curled up from the yellowish-white soup. It smelled heavenly. Clara’s stomach growled and her mouth watered. How she lived so long without knowing such a fabulous dish existed was beyond her. All she had to do now was avoid overindulgence or her pants wouldn’t fit anymore. Always a curvy woman, she had shed a few pounds since she started dating Asher. Was she more aware of what she ate or was it because dating a cowboy had her on the go? Hard to say.

  “Yes, I suppose so.” She swirled her spoon around the bowl. “Is it too early, you know, to mark the day?”

  “Is that what this is about?”

  Clara shrugged. “The relationship is barely two months old. I wouldn’t call us official or anything along those lines.”

  Miss Maggie dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Are you exclusive, seeing only each other?”

  “As far as I know,” she said, her face scrunched up in thought. “Suppose we should discuss that, huh?”

  “I know Asher, he’s a one-woman kind of man. Besides, with everything else he has to tend to, I can’t imagine him having time for more than one special lady. So as long as he’s your only one…”

  Was Miss Maggie fishing, questioning her intentions? “Of course.”

  Her ex-boyfriend thought he had free rein to do as he pleased, seeing her as just one of his special ladies. Finding out that he was cheating left her shattered, unable to trust, and perhaps that was the real root of her problem. She was still gun-shy, afraid to give her heart away completely. It remained in a fragile state. What happened if she gave of herself entirely, heart and soul to Asher and wound up once again broken, tossed aside? Clara hated to think of Asher that way, but in the end nobody really knew how a relationship was going to play out. They were still in the blissful embrace of discovering each other. What if she turned up something she didn’t care for or Asher discovered a trait he just couldn’t live with?

  Clara sat back with a sigh, her gaze once again focused out the window. An elderly couple strolled along at a casual pace, hand in hand, and instantly tears burned the back of Clara’s eyes. Would she ever be that woman, growing old with the love of her life, happy in the knowledge that theirs was a life fulfilled?

  “Oh dear,” Miss Maggie whispered. She reached across the table and took Clara’s hand in her own. ”Clara, if there’s one thing I know it’s that that man adores you. If you believe in love at first sight, consider his heart yours from the moment he crossed that threshold with Sarsaparilla. He was yours before you even spoke.”

  Heat crept across Clara’s cheeks. What Miss Maggie said sounded like the stuff of movies and novels, definitely not the sort of thing that ever happened to her. She liked to consider herself a confident, successful woman with her head screwed on right. But when it came to men and relationships all that went right out the window. One bad relationship, one heart left shattered, was all it took for self-doubt to find its way in. So far she’d managed to keep it under control, refusing to blame Asher or make him pay for the mistakes of another. Loving him came easy, perhaps too much so, and it scared her, the depth of her feelings at such an early stage of their relationship. Falling too hard way too quickly just screamed there would be an impending disaster.

  Yet, the way he made her feel, the skill he possessed in making her blush and feel like a young girl…Asher sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The touch of his lips against hers, his hand on the small of her back; a shiver passed through Clara. With the briefest of caresses he stoked a long simmering fire waiting to rage into flames, and to think, they hadn’t even slept together yet. Not to say she hadn’t entertained her fair share of fantasies, the mighty fine cowboy laying her down on his bed
, tracing the lines of her curves…

  “I’m beginning to think you might need to step outside,” quipped Miss Maggie, an all too knowing twinkle in her eye.

  By now Clara was used to the heat that spread across her cheeks. She was a young woman with needs, desires, and it was tempting to give in, especially when she cuddled up close to Asher. But the lingering doubts, the pain caused by another, kept her from taking that step.

  Clara sucked in her bottom lip.

  “Don’t worry,” Miss Maggie said, patting her hand. “What will be will be and there’s nothing we can do about it. Besides, you two were meant for each other, I just know it.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.”

  “Just let nature take its course, and as clichéd as it sounds, follow your heart. It’ll never steer you wrong. Sometimes we merely forgot how to listen to it.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you are one wise woman?”

  From there the conversation turned to Miss Maggie’s grandchildren. Clara did her best to participate, but her mind kept wandering back over the things her friend said, specifically the idea of following her heart. Hadn’t she done that with the last guy and look where it got her. Then her mind focused on the first time she spied Asher and the shot of electricity that seemed to shoot through her body. How she managed to conduct herself without falling into a tongue-tripping mess still amazed her, then again, at that point in her life she’d made the decision to forget about love. Just brushed aside such silliness as she deemed it and started making plans for a spinster lifestyle. Then she saw Asher.

  From the waiting room of her clinic to her dreams that night, in one quick whirlwind, the very blink of an eye, the girlhood wish for a fairytale love blossomed anew. Asher became her Prince Charming. And she began to wonder if the broken pieces of her heart could mend.

  Chapter 3

  July

  The day had dawned bright and blue, cotton ball clouds floating lazily across the sky. The air was filled with cheery birdsong and the perfume of summer flowers, many of which enjoyed the buzzing visit of bees. It was the sort of day that made Clara want to go on a hike or find a shady spot under a tree and get lost in the pages of a good book. But still being relatively new in town with a lot of time and money invested in her vet clinic, The Ark, she chose to work, leaving the front door open to invite in the surprising cool breeze.