Love in Bloom (23 page)

“My dad sure likes you.”

Lily licked her lips, glad that Isabella couldn’t see the way her cheeks flamed, and tried to keep her voice even as she lightly replied, “That’s nice.”

“He bought ever’thing you picked out today,” Isabella pointed out, “and he come to church because of your rosebush.”

“No. No, now that was because of your birthday wish,” Lily said quickly.

“And he hadn’t never taken no other lady to a movie ‘afore,” Isabella declared.

Lily swallowed. “Well, that was just because we had some time to fill, and…”

“My dad sure likes you,” Isabella said again, around a yawn this time.

Lily didn’t know what to say next, so she said nothing at all, and soon, she could tell that Isabella was sleeping. Tate returned with his well-fitted suit and a quick, quiet smile.

“She fell asleep, did she?” he whispered.

Lily nodded, and he said no more. Starting up the truck, he drove them back to Bygones. Along the way Lily mused over the situation and came to a satisfactory explanation.

Tate had finally come to the place where he could let go of Eve and move forward. He had gotten back into church and begun to make his peace with God. One day perhaps he would be ready to love again. Then he would rethink his position on marriage and children. For now, he was being nice to her, maybe even practicing his flirting a bit. But that’s all it was. That’s all it could be. Unless…

But no.
Unless
led to castles in the air and foolish dreams.
Unless
had been her downfall too many times in the past.
Unless
would get her heart broken. She wasn’t going to do
unless
.

On the other hand, what could it hurt just to ask him what his intentions were? Hadn’t she prayed for God to help her be bold and
do
things? If she asked Tate what his feelings for her were now and he got a strange puzzled look on his face or, worse, an amused one, well, she would have her answer. The problem was, she didn’t think she could bear that answer. Not again. Not from Tate. All of which meant that it was already too late.

This time, she’d really done it. This time, she’d really fallen in love. And with the wrong man.

* * *

Tate guided the truck to the curb. He’d had the whole trip back from Manhattan to think about how to handle this, and he knew just what he wanted to do. First, he smiled at Lily. Then he held a finger to his lips, indicating that they should both be quiet so as not to wake Isabella. Next, he set the interior light switch so that the overhead lamp wouldn’t come on when the doors opened. Only then did he kill the engine and pocket the keys before carefully letting himself out of the truck and hurrying around to do the same for Lily. Keeping his hand on her arm, he led her to the apartment door beneath the canopy.

With very deliberate movements he slipped the glasses from Lily’s face, folded them and stowed them in his shirt pocket. He cupped her face in his hands, tilted her head, watched her pink lips part slightly, leaned forward and kissed her.

He kissed her until they were both breathless and he’d had all he could stand. Then he just laid his forehead against hers, closed his eyes and let his heart race until it slowed.

Strangely, the boy he had been with Eve seemed to have been better disciplined than the man he now was with Lily. He’d have to do some praying about that. No doubt of it. Straightening, he took her glasses from his pocket and handed them to her. She slipped them on shyly, her hair swinging forward as she bowed her head.

When she looked up again, he saw the questions in her eyes, questions that he knew she would not ask because it wasn’t in her nature to do so, questions that he would soon have to ask of her. But not yet.

He wanted a little more time. Maybe, if she loved him…if she loved him
enough,
he would get the answer he needed, and then maybe they could have a future together, her, him and Isabella. Just a little more time…

“Good night, Lily. Thanks for your help today.”

“Good night, Tate.”

She flashed him a gentle smile and slipped through the door. Grinning, he all but danced around to slide back behind the steering wheel. Just a little more time.

Meanwhile he and Isabella had some work to do at home. She should have a say, after all, in which of her mother’s photos remained on display and which were lovingly put away.

* * *

Leaning forward, Lily dripped mustard onto the plank table and the paper that had wrapped her hamburger. Tate reached past Isabella and across the table to mop blobs of yellow from Lily’s chin.

“I suspect we’re all going to look as if we’ve been shot with a mustard gun before we get to the midweek service,” he muttered.

Thankfully Lily had piled napkins in her lap earlier when it had become obvious that Velma’s cuisine was unusually condiment-rich tonight. The Dills were understandably upset by an act of vandalism that had occurred during the wee hours of the morning. Someone had overturned the picnic tables outside and thrown a trash can through a window, stealing several candy bars and a few bags of chips, all items easily reached from outside the store. Elwood had boarded up the broken window and Joe Sheridan had come around to investigate, but a real thief would have taken items of more value. The whole thing was both disturbing and puzzling. Tate couldn’t help feeling concerned. The town didn’t need this kind of foolishness on top of everything else.

“Why don’t you take off your new sport coat?” Lily suggested.

“Good idea,” he told her, getting up to stow it in the truck, which sat parked nearby. “Isabella, run inside and get us some more napkins.”

Obediently, she rose and went into the grill of The Everything to ask for extra paper napkins. Tate returned to the table to begin dismantling hamburgers and wiping them of their excess mustard.

“Velma must’ve had a mustard malfunction,” Lily said, passing him her burger.

“That’s not the only malfunction around here, if you ask me,” declared a feminine voice. Tate looked up in time to see Whitney Leigh, the reporter for the
Bygones Gazette,
carrying a stack of newspapers around the front of Tate’s truck.

“You come to investigate the break-in?” Tate asked, straightening.

“Why? Do you think it’s somehow related to the SOS Committee and the anonymous benefactor?”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re still beating that drum.”

“And I’m going to keep beating it,” Whitney insisted. “How can we trust someone who won’t reveal his or her identity?”

“Look, all I can tell you is that the town is in the clear.”

“That’s what you say now, but you haven’t read my latest column, have you?”

“No,” Tate admitted, “I haven’t.”

She held out a paper to him, but when he went to take it, she pulled it back again. Tate dug into his pocket for the requisite coins and passed them over. Whitney handed him a copy of the
Gazette,
turned on her heel and carried the remaining stack of papers inside the convenience store. Lily quickly reassembled the hamburgers while Tate came around to her side of the picnic-style table and opened the paper to the editorial column. Isabella returned with clean napkins. Lily wadded up the soiled ones while Tate made sure Isabella was eating before glancing over the column.

Whitney had interviewed a local attorney, Spense O’Laughlin, who lived in Bygones but practiced elsewhere. O’Laughlin had expressed doubt that the city could be liable for any debts incurred should one of the new businesses in town fail, but he had pointed out that they were dealing with several unknowns, not the least of which was the identity of the “entity” funding the grants.

“Do you know this O’Laughlin?” Lily asked Tate.

“I do. He voiced similar concerns to the SOS Committee when we consulted with him while drawing up the conditions for the matching grants, but we were as helpless to do anything about the situation then as we are now.”

“Very convenient, if you ask me,” Whitney said, returning without the burden of newspapers. Presumably she’d left them at the counter inside to be sold. “How is it that this benefactor is available to give business advice but can still hide his or her identity?”

“You already know that,” Tate retorted. “Everything is done by email.”

“Has anyone even tried to track that?”

“Presumably the committee signed an agreement with the benefactor agreeing not to do any such thing,” Lily said.

“That’s right,” Tate told her with a smile. His secret attorney knew a thing or two, after all.

“Well, I didn’t sign any such agreement!” Whitney declared.

“I don’t see what difference it really makes,” Lily said. “I think it’s all quite admirable. Whoever the benefactor is, he or she has done a generous thing, a good thing.”

“You would think so,” Tate told her, smiling. “You’re too sweet to assign ulterior motives.”

“What ulterior motives could there be?”

Tate shrugged. “I don’t know. I just think it’s suspicious that it’s kept a secret.”

Lily linked her arm with his. “Maybe you’re the mysterious benefactor and you’re just saying that to throw us off the scent.”

He smiled. “Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t have that kind of money, and I’m not that generous. Frankly, such a scheme would never have occurred to me. And if it had, I can’t think why I’d want to make a secret of my identity. Uh-uh. Not this guy.”

Thankfully Lily didn’t seem disappointed.

“It has to be someone around here,” Whitney said, “and I’m going to find out who it is if it’s the last thing I do.” With that, she turned and stalked away, her hands tight little fists swinging at her sides.

“Whoever it is,” Lily said, “I expect he or she has met his or her match. That is one determined woman.”

“I expect you are right,” Tate agreed.

Just then Nancy Jacobs called to Isabella, asking if she’d like to help Bonnie watch her baby sister while she, Nancy, closed up the Snow Cone Cabin.

“Can I, Daddy?”

As she’d managed to eat over half of her hamburger, he let her go.

“We’d better eat our own burgers,” Lily said, reaching for hers.

Tate nodded, following suit. “You don’t think Pastor Garman will faint when he sees me walk into the church for the second time in the same week, do you?”

Her mouth full, Lily elbowed him then tried to eat while laughing.

Quickly finishing the meal, Tate gathered up the refuse and carried it to the trash barrel once more positioned beside the door. Elwood had weighted it with chains threaded through concrete blocks. Lily stood and brushed crumbs from her skirt. Isabella ran over to Lily, carrying Bonnie’s baby sister on her hip. The plump baby giggled, her fists wrapped in Isabella’s bright hair. Bonnie ran alongside, trying to free Isabella’s hair from her sister’s greedy gasp.

“Isn’t she cute?” Isabella gushed.

“She’s adorable,” Lily said, taking the baby into her arms so Bonnie could more easily disentangle her little hands.

“Let go,” Bonnie scolded mildly, finally succeeding in freeing Isabella’s hair.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to have a baby?” Isabella said.

“Oh, yes!” Lily agreed.

Tate froze in midstride.

“I love babies,” Lily went on brightly, juggling the baby higher in her arms. The baby reached for Lily’s glasses, but she neatly avoided her tiny grasp, laughing. “Oh, no, you don’t. I know all the baby tricks, and you can’t have my glasses, little miss.” She smacked loud kisses on the giggling baby’s cheek, while Tate stood frozen in place.

Seeing her now, he knew he’d been fooling himself, pretending that Lily could be content with him and Isabella. If he married Lily, of course she would want to have a baby of her own. For an instant Tate pictured Lily big with his child, her slender frame swollen with pregnancy. She would be as graceful and achingly beautiful as ever, her sweet smile hopeful and loving. His heart swelled with pride. Then fear shuddered through him, fear unlike anything he’d ever known.

If Lily had a baby, she could die, and he could not face the possibility of such loss again. Yet how could he ask Lily to give up the possibility of a child of her own?

Could he be that selfish? Even if it was the only way that they could be together? For it was, he realized with a leaden heart, the
only
way they could be together.

Chapter Fifteen

“N
ight and day,” Lily said, twisting her hands together. “That’s the only way I know how to describe it. We were talking about the mystery benefactor who funded the grants and brought the new businesses to town. I laughingly suggested that it might be Tate, and he flatly denied it. I believed him. Then Isabella brought over Bonnie’s baby sister, but it was almost time for church, so we had to go, and that’s when everything changed.”

Coraline shook her head, looking like the prim school principal that she was, sitting there on Lily’s unconventional couch. “He did seem very distracted during the Wednesday service.”

“He didn’t sing along with any of the hymns,” Lily revealed softly, “and he didn’t speak a word to me on the way home.”

“And you haven’t heard from him since?”

“Not in two days, and I’ve left three messages on his phone.”

“I see.”

“The thing is,” Lily went on, hardly able to meet Coraline’s gaze, “I have a history of, well, forming attachments to unattainable men. It usually doesn’t get this far. That is, it’s usually all…me. This time, though, I thought…” She shook her head. Perhaps she had misread his intentions, after all. Those kisses probably hadn’t meant a thing. Still, Tate didn’t seem like the sort to lead a girl on. “I—I don’t know what to do or say now. I’ve never been in this position before. Should I apologize, back off? What?”

Coraline smiled. “I don’t see that you have anything to apologize for, Lily. I think we should just pray about this matter and see what happens.”

Somewhat comforted, Lily nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.” She bowed her head. Coraline began to speak. After the prayer, Coraline rose to leave.

“Now, don’t you worry about a thing,” Coraline said. “God will work it out.”