Her Unlikely Cowboy. Debra Clopton
For Abe.
* * *
The next morning, Suzie’s sense of hope continued to prevail as she drove into town. Abe had eaten a huge breakfast with the other boys—Nana relayed the info, because Suzie had forced herself not to hover. Not to go peek through the windows, either—though it was exactly what she wanted to do.
Sometimes a mother’s job was hard—stepping back was one of the harder things.
But when she’d walked across the hall to his room she’d been surprised to find him already up and dressed and she’d taken that as a great sign. He’d startled her more by revealing that he’d decided to help feed the horses.
Evidently he’d been invited to do so, and after a night of thinking about it, he’d decided to help. It was a positive start and Suzie, not knowing what to expect when she’d awakened that morning, was thrilled.
Now, heading into town, she found herself relaxing in the seat of her small car, which Tucker had unhitched from the moving truck the previous night. She had the truck for another day, so she was going to have to find a place to rent, though the McDermotts had assured her that she and Abe were welcome to stay as long as needed. And she was wondering if prolonging their stay for a little while might be a good thing, if spending mornings, days and nights there would put him more in the action for a little while.
There was an apartment on the second story of the building that housed the florist’s shop, but she’d been told it was in some disrepair. She wasn’t sure she wanted to live above the store, anyway—how good would that be for Abe? But it was an option.
For now, she’d use it to store her things until she decided what she wanted to do.
The town was darling. The four-story, redbrick Dew Drop Inn reigned supreme across from a quaint town park that was surrounded by four rows of small businesses. On the far corner across the street from the Dew Drop Inn was the Spotted Cow Café with a sunny yellow door and red geraniums. Like a welcome sign, it begged a person to come visit.
On the bench outside the newspaper office just down the street sat two older gentlemen who waved as she passed. They were whittling and added to the feeling that Mayberry had come to life. Suzie instantly imagined Sheriff Andy Taylor walking the streets—but then, Tucker McDermott’s image replaced the fictional sheriff’s image and Dew Drop seemed suddenly a little more exciting than Mayberry. Stop with that, already!
Pulling into the empty parking spot three doors down from the weathered church pew where the gentlemen were sitting, a wave of nerves suddenly attacked her like stinging bees.
The ugly chipped door of her new business was directly in front of her, kind of a toss-up between mud-brown and murky gray.
“First order of business,” she muttered. “Paint that door.”
To say it was bad was the understatement of the year. And hopefully not a foreshadowing of things to come once she opened it and stepped inside.
The two older men came hurrying down the sidewalk, their boots scuffing as they came.
“We’ve been expecting you this morning,” the taller one said, grinning wide. He looked as though he smiled often because of the crinkles around his pale green eyes. “We made sure and got here early, just so we could welcome you. Right, Drewbaker?”
“Right, Chili,” the other man agreed. “We usually show up in the afternoon after we get our cows fed, but we snuck away this morning.” He winked, making her chuckle at the pure teasing in his manner.
“Thank you so much for coming. I’m Suzie Kent.”
“Oh, we know who you are. But I’m Chili Crump and that’s Drewbaker Mackintosh.”
Mr. Mackintosh nodded. “We heard all about you buying the place from Joyce and Lester. Those two were so excited to hook a buyer, they told the world it had sold before the papers were signed.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Mr. Crump said, scratching his jaw. “Why, they packed up their motor home and left town almost before we could wave goodbye. You’d think they couldn’t wait to get rid of us.”
Mr. Mackintosh’s entire face fell with his frown. “Yeah, kind of felt like we weren’t wanted anymore,” he said, then winked again. “They really wanted to get out of town before you changed your mind.”
“That bad?” she asked, enjoying herself, despite the ominous teasing.
Both men grinned and followed her to the door, watching as she stuck in the key. Opening the door felt as if she was opening the best gift at Christmas, even as the musty scent of age wafted out in greeting.
“Well, gentlemen, let’s see what I’ve got, shall we?” She couldn’t help but feel happy walking in. Comical expressions of doom and gloom lit her new friends’ faces—half teasing, she knew, and yet the place had certainly seen better times.
Entering, she had to step lively to get out of their way as they crowded in behind her.
Someone flicked the lights on—not really a good thing, since it illuminated the lost and forlorn look of the empty flower shop. Glass cases that had to be some of the first ever made lined one wall. A single forgotten vase of flowers sat wilted behind the glass. The floors were old planks, rough and worn so that they had a shine to them like pebbles under a constant stream of water. Their footsteps rang out in the cavernous room.
The back room wasn’t any better. The tables all looked as though they were made from leftover wood, with plywood tops that had no charm at all. Turning back to the front room she studied the small front counter, more of a podium, with barely enough room for a purchase tablet much less a computer—even a small laptop. That would have to be remedied. Bad, to say the least, and yet...light streamed in from the large, old plate-glass window and made a sunny spot in the center of the room. It was to that sunny spot that Suzie walked and stood as she readjusted her eyes.
“It ain’t much to look at.”
“Mr. Mackintosh, you’re right, it has its bad points.”
“Call me Drewbaker. Ever’body does.”
“And the same here. Call me Chili, little lady.”
She smiled. “Drewbaker and Chili, then. It does have its bad points. But, for the money I paid, I got a steal of a deal. That’s a huge plus. And look up. Isn’t that tin ceiling amazing? What charm.”
Both of them cranked their necks back and frowned.
“You’ve got better eyes than me,” Drewbaker said. “Ain’t no charm in here.”
Chili agreed with his silence and the skeptical expression on his craggy face.
“Now, it’s not that bad,” Tucker said from the doorway. “Good morning, Suzie. Fellas.”
Suzie’s pulse bucked into rodeo mode upon seeing him—it was very disturbing.
“Good morning,” she said. Then, not waiting for any more encouraging declarations, she walked over to the glass cases and tried the sliding doors. “These work great. That’s a plus. They would be the most expensive pieces for me to purchase, so as long as they keep the flowers cool, everything else is workable. You’ll be amazed what a little paint will do.”
“That’s right,” Tucker said, coming over to test the doors himself. “You have a great attitude.”
“Well, I have two choices. See only the bad or start thinking positive. I want to think positive. Paint will work wonders. And scrubbing and rearranging.
“And flowers,” she added. “Flowers everywhere will change the whole atmosphere.”
And scent. What was that odor?
Candles. Candles and flowers would change the scent.
Yes, she had a plan.
She dropped her fists to her hips and did a full