Daffodils and Danger (7 page)

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ve got your back. There’s power in unity, Kami. Let’s cover your dad in prayer.”

“Thanks, Wyatt.” Tears welled in Kami’s eyes as her throat tightened. “That means a lot. You have no idea.”

“Oh, but I do.” Wyatt captured a single tear as it slipped down her cheek. He spun her in an easy circle, never letting go of her hand. “Like my mom says…we’re kindred spirits.”

“I suppose so—for now at least. But tomorrow...”

“Don’t worry about tomorrow.” Wyatt splayed a hand along her back, dipped her low before drawing her in again. “This is fun. We should go dancing sometime.”

“Excuse me, but we
are
dancing.”

“I mean officially, with a crowd and loud music—the whole works.”

“Who needs a crowd? I kind of like this.”

“Me, too. But I’ll bet you line dance real well.”

“Line dancing wasn’t on Dad’s dance card, but I still can hold my own. Some skills carry over, you know.”

“I’m sure they do. I’d like to see it with my own eyes.”

“You might get your chance.” She twirled once more and then eased back in.

“Beautiful.” Wyatt smoothed a hand along the length of her hair. “You should wear your hair down more often.”

“Hard to do, working in a restaurant.”

“Have you ever considered doing anything else?”

“Of course I have. I studied business management at UT, and have degrees in both business and marketing. I have a lot of ideas to expand the pizzeria and maybe open a second business, as well, but Dad’s so set in his ways that he refuses to listen. He needs me now for more than the restaurant, so it isn’t right to complain. But maybe one day things will change…”

“Sounds like we’re both singing the same tune.”

“It’s frustrating, at best. I love the pizzeria, but I don’t want to spend all my days elbow-deep in dirty dishes and wrestling with eccentric customers. I just want to…”

“What?”

“I want more.” Kami shook her head. “It’s silly. Forget it.”

“If it’s something that you truly want, then it’s not silly.” He eased her around a corner as one song led to another. “And I promise not to laugh.”

“Well, I’d like to open a coffee shop in conjunction with the pizzeria, something warm and homey with magazine racks filled to the gills and an assortment of books, maybe a limited selection of sweets and wholesome specialty sandwiches to nibble on. People could stop by to relax and read, grab a simple bite to eat, or perhaps conduct a small-business meeting.” She shook her head. “I know places like that come a dime a dozen in New York City, but there’s nothing like it in Clover Cove.”

“It’s a good dream, Kami. And I know where you can get some plants to brighten the interior.” Wyatt’s breath skimmed warm across her ear, trailing along her neck, and she struggled not to fall too fast, too deep. But it was hopeless, and soon her heart spiraled out of control. “
And
find someone to help with the landscaping.”

“You mean Reese?”

“No, silly.” He stepped back, his eyes a pair of dark arrows that sang straight to her heart. “I mean me.”

“I’d like that.” The scent of roses drifted from the stairs, blending with pine from the woods beyond the yard. “You do an amazing job, by the way. I don’t know where you’ve found the time, but the grounds around here have been transformed almost overnight. It would have taken me weeks to accomplish everything without your help.”

“It was worth it—for the coffee.” He grinned. “And I’ll bet your peach cobbler will be an added bonus.”

“I sure hope so. I have vanilla bean ice cream, too.” Her gaze caught the flowerbed that ran the length of the deck. Even in the shadows, yellow blooms burst vibrantly. “Those daffodils are so beautiful. They remind me of my mom. She loved daffodils.”

“I remember.” The oven timer buzzed. Twenty minutes had passed like a whisper. Wyatt released her and stepped back. “Does Sully’s still host line dancing on Friday nights?”

“Yes, but I haven’t been there in ages.”

“Maybe we can head that way some time.”

“Maybe we can.” She glanced back over her shoulder to toss him a look as she headed into the house. “Looks like we’re going to start with dessert, after all.”

7

“Mom, Reese, I need you both in the office in five.” Wyatt crooked a finger at his brother. “Don’t even try to head out with that load of mulch until we talk.”

“What’s up?”

“Family meeting.”

“Family…well, aren’t you getting fancy?”

“Drop the humor and head to the back. This is important, Reese.”

“Gotcha.” Reese turned to their mother. “You go on. I’ll ring up this last customer and load her stuff, then be right there. But it better not take long. I promised to deliver this load of mulch to Mr. Bruester tonight.”

“It’ll take as long as it takes.” Wyatt leveled him a look. “Less if you hurry.”

Mom followed Wyatt back to the office, wiping her hands on her smock as she went. “What’s all this fuss about?”

“I’d rather just go over it once.” Wyatt motioned to a chair across from his battered desk. Reluctantly, she sank into it. Wyatt filled a foam cup with coffee from the carafe that Kami had brought over only an hour ago. The past several days had been so crazy they hadn’t managed to see each other for more than a few fleeting minutes, and he missed her. Wyatt wasn’t sure what to do with the unsettling emotion, so he merely tucked the thought away as he handed the cup to his mother. “I hear Reese coming now.”

Footsteps padded the short hallway before Reese’s form filled the doorway, blocking light from the hall. He spun a set of keys around his index finger, jangling them. “Let’s get this party started.”

“Sit down.” Wyatt motioned to a chair. “Take a load off.”

Reese nodded. He came a few steps into the room and bypassed the chair to hop onto a two-drawer file cabinet, swinging his legs so his boots thumped against the metal. “What’s up?”

“As you both know, for the past year the nursery has been like a ship taking on water.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Reese began. “This sounds like an ominous start.”

“Let him talk, son.” Mom leaned forward, splaying a hand Reese’s way. “Give him a chance.”

“We’re in danger of losing everything if we don’t make some changes, and fast.” Wyatt handed them each a folder full of information—charts and diagrams he’d spent several days preparing. It all led up to the bottom line. “We all know how diligently Dad worked to start this nursery—to keep it growing and running. I also know how hard both of you have worked while I’ve been away.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“Reese, hush.” Mom’s voice was a sharp warning, a tone Wyatt—and no doubt, Reese—found familiar.

“But that’s the only thing he’s said that’s made sense so far—the only thing of consequence. We’ve been here, working our fingers to the bone, while Wyatt’s pursued his own dreams.”

“And now he’s left everything he built to come home again—for us.”

“The prodigal son returns.” Reese crossed his arms, his face flushed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“It won’t do any of us any good to start a wildfire here.” Wyatt’s jaw tensed as he struggled to keep his voice even. “We need to band together. Dad would have wanted that.”

“He would have wanted you to stay in the first place and avoid this mess altogether.”

“Do you want to hear what I have to say, or not?”

Reese shrugged, banged the file cabinet once more with his boots. “Go on.”

“OK, then.” Wyatt flipped open to the first page, indicated they should do the same. “You’re a genius, Reese, when it comes to supply and demand. I don’t know how you’ve managed to place all these orders, keep up with stock and deliveries on your own for over a year, especially with Dad so sick…with all you went through. And, Mom, I’ve never seen anyone arrange planters more beautifully. The customers love you. Most of them return time and again because of the service you provide. Dad knew this years ago, when the nursery was only a dream and a vision. He knew, and now I do, as well.”

“So, you’re going to quit dangling the carrot and stick around?” Reese chimed in. “Well, it’s about time.”

Wyatt brushed the caustic words aside. “Turn to page two.”

Reese’s words wounded, mostly because they rang true. He
had
been dangling the proverbial carrot, choosing to be neither completely in nor completely out of the nursery’s revival. It was time to quit riding the fence and get his hands good and dirty with the work. “Here’s a projection of our cost to income ratio, after taxes. I finished filing day before yesterday. That, in itself, was a battle I’d rather not repeat.”

“That bad, huh?” Reese’s tone softened. “I guess I should have rolled up my sleeves and dipped into the books a little more.”

“We’ll be tight for a while, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel. That brings me to pages three through ten—a growth plan for the nursery. It’s a rough outline, at the very best, and definitely open to suggestions. I’d like you both to take a look, share your input. I’ve forwarded the report to Maddie and Dillon, as well. I figure they’ll both be finished with their schooling and right back here in another year or so, so they should both have a say in this, as well.”

“Oh, Wyatt…all this work.” Hattie’s voice was thready, strained. “And, Reese, my loyal soldier…” She stood, gathered them both in for a hug. “Your father would be so proud.
I’m
proud. God has answered my prayer. Thank you. Thank you both.”

****

“Are you OK?” Kami splashed coffee into Wyatt’s mug as she grinned down at him. She hadn’t seen him in two days and realized, with a start, that she’d missed him. They’d both been busy—her with the restaurant and him crunching numbers and filing taxes. Now, with his forehead furrowed into a neat line of worry, he appeared to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You look…glum.”

“Well, there’s a fine word.” Wyatt reached for the mug, sipped. “Do you have time to sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure. Just give me a sec.” Kami glanced around the diner, noting the bulk of the customers had dispersed. Mr. Reynolds sat tucked into a corner booth; he’d stick around until closing time in half-an-hour, nursing his coffee. And a pair of love struck teenagers shared a root beer float, enjoying a pocket of privacy. She crossed to the service counter and grabbed a coffee cup for herself, filling it to the brim before setting the carafe back onto the burner. She removed her apron and snatched two slices of chocolate cream pie from the cooler before returning to slip into the seat across from Wyatt at the booth. “Here, this might help. Chocolate always does the trick for me.” She slid one slice his way, kept the second for herself.

“Thanks.” Wyatt reached for a fork, stabbed off a generous bite. “It looks delicious.”

“It’s definitely worth the calories, though I doubt you lose sleep over that.”

“Can’t say I do.”

“Lucky you.” She tucked a bite of pie into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. The light of a full moon flooded the windows, spilling over Wyatt’s dark hair and softening his rugged features. Stubble lined his jaw, and his eyes held a look that could only be called troubled with a touch of wild dancing around the edges. “Rough day at the office?”

“You could say that.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You are. This is.” He motioned to the pie, to her. “You just taking the time to sit here with me means a lot.”

“I’ll always make time to sit with you, Wyatt. I enjoy your company.”

“That’s nice to know. Ditto, by the way.” He sighed, chewed, sipped and swallowed. “At least you’re still on my side. I’ve made a mess of things.”

“How so?” Kami dropped her fork, slid the pie plate back and went for her coffee. “What’s going on?”

“Things are changing so fast. I’m not sure I can keep up. I thought I’d come back to Clover Cove for a while, set the nursery back on its feet and then head out to New York again, to my life and my future there. Then, today, I unveiled a long-term plan to Mom and Reese and I realized…” He shook his head, lifted his gaze to capture hers. “My brain is jumbled, the synapses firing like live wires in a thunderstorm.”

“Sounds pretty serious.”

“I needed some time with you to help piece things together. I suppose that’s why I came here now…tonight.”

“Wait.” Kami’s pulse shimmied against her skin. The pie and the coffee were no longer appealing as her belly tumbled off the map. She glanced toward the kitchen, watched her dad for a moment as he rolled pizza dough through a stainless steel dough sheeter machine, readying crusts for the next day. At his side, Fred chopped toppings for tomorrow’s pizza line, as well. She drew her cell phone from the front pocket of her jeans, typed a quick text to Fred and sent it before sliding from the booth. She turned to take Wyatt’s hand. “Let’s go for a walk. I think we can both use some fresh air.”

8

Kami walked at Wyatt’s side, giving him space while waiting for him to speak. His breathing was deep, labored, and she sensed the turmoil brewing inside him.

“I never thought Clover Cove was where I belong. I never imagined I’d spend my life here. It just doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense at all.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning and talk it through? Maybe that will help.”

“I let Dad down, then Mom and Reese.” He slapped the thighs of his jeans as they meandered along the sidewalk.

The nursery was behind them along with the pizzeria. Ahead, the foothills of the Smokies beckoned in a halo of moonlight. The pavement was damp from an early evening rainfall, and here and there Kami sidestepped to avoid a puddle.

“I suppose I just experienced a gut-punch of reality today, a check of my conscience that’s brutally painful. I’ve spent my entire life looking after Reese and Dillon. Mattie, too, while Mom and Dad chased their dream of growing the nursery. I grew to resent them—and the nursery, as well. That’s the largest part of why I left here. I thought I’d had my fill.”