Chapter One
“Kelley, stop what you are doing.”
Not again. Kelley Munroe winced and watched her older sister barrel through the front doors of the Galloping Fork Diner well ahead of the sunrise and the diner’s early-bird regulars.
“Now. I need you.” Laura-Beth flipped the open sign to Closed, relocked the doors that Kelley had only just opened moments ago and rushed on, “I need Frannie, too.” LB hollered for their younger sister to get a move on and join them.
Frannie pushed through the swinging door from the diner kitchen, clutching an apron and frowning. “LB, you don’t work here. You can’t order me around. Only Kelley can.”
Laura-Beth made a pfft sound that carried across the entire seating area.
“We are t-minus ten days until my walk down the aisle. My fiancé’s business trip got extended this morning for several more days.
Wes is currently en route from San Francisco to Los Angeles.
” She tossed her arms over her head, escalating her newfound flair for the dramatic and added rather empathetically, “And there are decisions to be made. Today. Right now, in fact.”
Kelley nodded, although Laura-Beth was once again in motion and busily rearranging the furniture in the main dining area.
“You need to make her leave,” Frannie grumbled beside Kelley. “All her bridal fuss and wedding frenzy will ruin the breakfast service for the customers.”
Their big sister had been wound up since her surprise engagement to local boy and successful tech entrepreneur Wes Taggart last month.
Yet, it was the couple’s subsequent decision to fast-track their nuptials that set the usually even-keeled middle school English teacher off in something of a bridal whirlwind.
Kelley mumbled, “She will just come back. We have to deal with her now.”
Frannie wrapped the straps of her apron around her waist and tied them tightly. “She’s getting worse.”
Kelley didn’t disagree. Laura-Beth’s wedding ambushes were becoming daily occurrences, especially with Wes’s recent back-to-back business trips.
As Wes was, in his own words, clearing the decks to spend the entire month of July after their wedding with his new bride and no work distractions, Kelley cut him some slack.
Still, Kelley checked the time on the wall clock behind the counter and said loud enough for Laura-Beth to hear, “We’ve got a few minutes to spare for our sister who needs us.”
Frannie looked less than convinced.
Kelley squeezed Frannie’s shoulder. “I know what I’m doing, little fig.” Frannie’s childhood nickname earned Kelley a glower from her younger sister.
“You’ve been saying that since you gave up your New York restaurant, signed your divorce papers and moved home to work here at the diner,” Frannie groused, giving her usual morning grump free rein.
Kelley hadn’t given up. Quite the opposite. She had fought for her marriage and their restaurant. The same could not be said about her ex-husband. But that so-called chapter of life was finished, and it wasn’t worth rereading now. Besides, the bride-to-be was the focus, not Kelley, thankfully.
“We can discuss Kelley’s situation and her next move later,” Laura-Beth said offhandedly, then motioned to them. Her engagement ring sparkled under the fluorescent lights. “Come over here and help me move this last table. It’s the heaviest.”
Frannie stayed rooted to her spot near the cash register.
Kelley helped Laura-Beth scoot the largest table to the side then asked, “LB, what are we doing anyway?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Laura-Beth paced a small circle around Kelley and added, “We’ve got a wedding party dance to choreograph.” At Kelley’s arched eyebrow, her sister said, “If it helps, think of it more like a dry run-through.”
Kelley took in the open space Laura-Beth created in the dining area and said slowly, “You want to dance here.”
“What did you think she was wanting?” Frannie asked, feigned disinterest in her tone.
“I thought we were going to sit down, have coffee and talk through the final wedding details.” At which point Laura-Beth would return to her calm and collected persona who exuded confidence rather than panic and pandemonium.
The daily urgent phone calls and around-the-clock texts would cease.
And Kelley could go back to running the diner’s breakfast service as usual.
“Well, we can sip and chat later. Right now, we need to practice our multitasking skills.” Laura-Beth grabbed Frannie’s arm, tugged her away from the counter and over to Kelley then ordered, “There’s no reason we can’t decide my other wedding things while you two dance.”
Her big sister was petite, her heart-shaped face delicate and pretty.
Only now there was a decided determination in the set of Laura-Beth’s pointed chin and a stubborn glint in her pale green eyes.
It would be easier to convince a goat to stop climbing than to change Laura-Beth’s mind.
Kelley sighed and extended her arm toward her little sister.
Smiling, she asked, “Can I have this dance, Ms. Francine Marie?”
Frannie blew a raspberry at Kelley and said, “I knew I should’ve hit snooze on my alarm this morning and driven myself to work.”
“But then you would have missed all this.” Kelley bowed low to her grumbly little sister and asked again, “Now, may I please have this dance?”
Frannie’s eyebrows pulled together and lowered. But the spark in her vibrant green eyes was more than evident. Frannie mused, “Actually, if this morning is about deciding things, we’ve got Fourth of July decisions to make. Like are we participating or not.”
Kelley should have seen this coming. Being a part of the town’s Fourth of July celebration was something of a family tradition.
Kelley liked watching the parade and fireworks show well enough.
It was the participation part that gave her pause.
That conversation definitely required more caffeine and preferably something extra sweet.
“It’s the first time we are all together for the Fourth in what seems like forever,” Laura-Beth stated. “So, of course we are taking part like we always did as kids.”
That earned Laura-Beth a satisfied smile from their youngest sister. Frannie eyed Kelley. “How about it, Kiki? Are you floating with us or not?”
Kelley never liked saying no to her sisters and disappointing them. Still, she said, “I think we should keep this morning about wedding things.”
“But LB already declared it a day for decisions,” Frannie challenged.
“Fine,” Kelley sighed. “We can discuss the parade.”
Frannie considered her and pressed, “Then you’re doing it, right?”
“I’m agreeing to discuss it.” That was all Kelley allowed. At her sister’s frown, Kelley whispered quickly, “If we dance now, LB will leave us alone the rest of the day and just perhaps all the remaining days until the wedding.”
“That would be a very good thing,” Frannie muttered.
“Dance with me, Little Fig.” Kelley grinned and added, “Let me sweep you off your boots.”
Finally, Frannie’s smile broke through her morning grump. Her little sister curtsied all grace and elegance despite her worn cowboy boots, rumpled shirt, black pants and heather-green waist apron. Frannie set her hand in Kelley’s and said, “Why, my darling Kiki, I’d be delighted.”
“Can you two stop with the theatrics and get dancing, please? We don’t have all day.” Laura-Beth pressed a button on her phone, and a slow country ballad filled the diner.
“Right. Some of us have jobs we should be doing now,” Frannie shot back.
Kelley seized her little sister’s hand and started into a country waltz before her two sisters could start in bickering.
Only two songs later, Laura-Beth called a halt and said, “The pair of you are a hot mess. You’ve rammed into no less than four tables and toppled three chairs.”
“It’s Kelley’s fault.” Frannie frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “She doesn’t know what swept off your boots even means.”
Kelley could not recall ever being swept off her feet in boots or otherwise.
It was a silly turn of phrase in her opinion.
After all, if she got swept off her feet, she would literally fall down.
Nothing fun about that. Kelley shot back, “Well, I lost count how many times you stepped on my toes, which are throbbing now, by the way.”
“That’s because you don’t know how to lead correctly,” Frannie challenged.
“Fine.” Kelley bowed to her sister. “You lead this time.”
“Gladly,” Frannie said.
“Let’s try a different dance this time,” Laura-Beth said. “Like a simple two-step. You can’t possibly get that wrong.”
One verse later, they bumped into another chair. Frannie yelped. And Kelley tried not to rub her sore toes.
Laura-Beth slapped her hand on her forehead and groaned. “You’re ruining the wedding party dance.”
“Maybe we don’t need it,” Frannie offered.
“You can’t be serious.” Laura-Beth set her hands on her hips and confronted Frannie. “I won’t have my entire reception ruined because you can’t follow a simple two-step.”
“This is not my fault,” Frannie retorted. “Don’t you dare blame me.”
“I didn’t crush Kelley’s toes,” Laura-Beth charged.
Frannie fumed, “No one can be expected to think straight let alone dance at such a ridiculous hour, LB.”
A pair of headlights flashed across the front windows.
That had to be Lenny Culver. The older cowboy was always the first of the early-bird regulars to arrive.
Len preferred his first cup of coffee extra hot, straight and sipped in silence.
It was well into his second cup of coffee when Len would claim he was finally fit for company and then he’d step up his conversational game with the other regulars.
But Kelley was not interested in the retiree’s conversational skills right now. Len told Kelley more than one story about how he used to wear his boots out on the dance floor in his younger days. Still, Kelley was going to owe the good-natured widower free breakfast for the inconvenience.