Chapter 13
Bianca walked down the main street, popping her head into several of the quaint shops as she went.
The sidewalks still glistened from last night’s storm, and the air carried that bright, washed-clean smell that always followed rain in the mountains.
Her mind spun while her stomach ached with nerves and too much coffee.
Mineral Lake looked peaceful on the surface—trucks parked along the curb, a dog tied outside the hardware store, wind nudging the budding cottonwoods—but inside her head nothing felt calm.
The card felt heavy in her pocket.
She paused when she reached Ellen’s Flower Extravaganza.
Fun name for a florist. For a moment she simply stood on the sidewalk and stared through the big front window. Buckets of color filled the display from tulips to sprays of greenery, and the sight tugged at a quiet place deep inside her chest. Flowers always did that. They felt hopeful.
Then she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The scent hit her immediately, warm, sweet, and soft at the same time.
The shop was small but bright, sunlight pouring through the windows and catching on glass vases arranged along a wooden shelf.
Buckets of flowers lined the wall behind the counter, and potted plants crowded a table near the front.
She walked toward the counter. “Hi.”
“Oh, hi, Bianca,” Ellen said. The blonde woman stood behind the counter tying ribbon around a bouquet. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and she wore a pink flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows. “It’s finally tulip season if you want to get a bouquet or five.”
“I love tulips.” Bianca glanced around. A small bell chimed softly as the door settled closed behind her. “You have a beautiful place here.”
Ellen gestured at the plants and flowers filling the shop. “Are you looking for blooms for decorating?”
“I actually do need some flowers.” Bianca stepped closer to one of the buckets and thought about the Willoughby place. “But I need them more for planting than arranging.”
“Oh.” Ellen rested her hands on the counter. “What kind?”
Bianca automatically began listing the things she loved working with.
“Roses, definitely. Climbing ones if possible. Lavender. Peonies. Maybe some delphinium along the fence lines. Coneflowers. Black-eyed Susans. Snapdragons, if they’ll take here.
Foxglove. Shasta daisies. Oh—and hydrangeas, though those might be tricky in this climate. ”
Ellen nodded along, though a faint smile crept onto her face as Bianca kept going.
“Salvia would be great,” Bianca continued, warming to the subject. “And maybe lupine along the edges. There are already marigolds in place.”
“Well,” Ellen said finally, “I mostly sell cut flowers and potted plants here. You want to check out Boyd’s nursery on the outskirts of town. It’s kind of between here and Billings. They’ve got some beautiful roses this year.”
A nursery so close. That would be perfect. Bianca rested her hands on the counter. “Boyd owns a nursery?”
“Yeah.” Ellen shrugged. “He has a few businesses, mostly construction. But the nursery has been in his family for generations.”
Bianca nodded absently, though her mind had already wandered back to the real reason she’d come in. “I was wondering about something else. I received more roses today.”
“You did? From Adam?”
Bianca blinked. “Why would you think they’re from Adam?”
Ellen lifted a brow. “Aren’t you two dating?”
Bianca shifted her weight. They’d had one night together. One night that still made her skin warm just thinking about it. “It’s amazing how fast rumors travel in a small town.”
Ellen only smiled.
“But I’m wondering,” Bianca continued slowly, “is there any chance my secret admirer sent the flowers from here?”
“Sorry,” Ellen said. “Nobody bought roses from me today. I wish.” She rested her chin on her hand. “So you and Adam, huh?”
Well, the man had kissed her right by the coffee shop, so it wasn’t a huge secret. “Um, yes.”
Ellen chuckled. “He’s the most eligible bachelor in the entire county, I think. You’d better hold on tight.”
Bianca chuckled. “I won’t be here long enough to hold on at all.” Why did that make her feel like someone punched her in the solar plexus? She moved toward the cooler along the wall where several bouquets waited, ready to be sold. Red roses filled one metal bucket. “These are pretty.”
“Thanks.” Ellen stepped closer. “Those are Crimson Glory roses.”
Bianca studied the blooms. The petals were deep red, almost velvet in color, though still a little lighter than the roses she’d received the other night. Hers were a different kind. She had to figure out who was messing with her. “Do you have a list of florists in nearby towns?”
“Sure. I can print it out for you.” Ellen shrugged. “Sometimes I have to call around when my inventory is low. But I already gave the list to Mrs. Schiller, just so you know.”
“Oh.” Bianca rubbed one eye, feeling suddenly tired again. “Mrs. Schiller said she was having fun playing detective.”
Ellen laughed. Her phone rang then, and she grabbed it off the counter. “Ellen’s Extravaganza.”
Bianca gave her a small wave and headed for the door.
Outside, the rain had stopped completely. The air smelled bright and clean, the kind of freshness that made the mountains look closer than they really were. Sunlight broke through the clouds in thin stripes, lighting the wet pavement. She walked toward the end of the street.
Just as she reached the corner, the door of the crafts shop opened and three familiar women stepped out together. Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Schiller, and Mrs. Poppins all held bags full of yarn.
“There you are,” Mrs. Hudson said immediately. “Dear, you must be going to Adam’s.”
“I am.” Bianca’s gaze flicked toward Mrs. Schiller. Did everyone know about the newest creepy note?
Mrs. Schiller gave the slightest shake of her head. Good. At least somebody could keep a secret in this sweet town.
The door of the yarn shop opened again behind them and another woman stepped outside.
She had thick blonde hair that curled loosely around her shoulders and long lashes that made her brown eyes look even darker.
Her shirt was tight enough to show off generous curves, and she wore dark jeans tucked into stylish boots that definitely hadn’t been worn in a muddy pasture.
“Bianca Estrada, this is Joan Daniels,” Mrs. Schiller said, turning to introduce them with the formality of someone presenting guests at a garden party.
“Hi,” Bianca said politely.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Joan murmured. Her gaze traveled slowly over Bianca from head to toe in a way that felt more like an evaluation than a greeting. “I take it you’re going to Adam’s with all of us?”
Bianca hesitated. “Is this… a thing you all do in the morning?” Did the bar serve breakfast?
“You bet it is, sister,” Mrs. Hudson said cheerfully, sliding her arm through Bianca’s before she could escape. “Let’s go.”
Bianca stumbled half a step as she was pulled along and then fell into stride with them. “Do you have more flowers to deliver?” Nobody seemed to be carrying anything other than yarn.
“Nope,” Mrs. Poppins said. “It’s just about that time.”
They reached the end of the street and crossed it together. The road was quiet, and a pickup truck rolled slowly past before turning the corner toward the highway. Puddles still dotted the pavement, reflecting strips of blue sky between drifting clouds.
“Time for what?” Bianca asked again, completely baffled.
“Oh,” Mrs. Schiller said happily, “Adam stocked the bar for the day, probably has coffee on, and he’ll be tuning up.”
“Tuning?” Bianca repeated.
Mrs. Schiller giggled. Actually giggled. “You’ll see.”
They continued down the sidewalk toward the low wooden building that housed Adam’s bar. The sign above the door creaked in the breeze.
Mrs. Poppins glanced up and nodded with satisfaction. “I’m so glad he renamed it. It should say Adam’s.”
“It used to be Babe’s Bar,” Mrs. Hudson explained.
“It just didn’t fit,” Mrs. Poppins added.
“No,” Mrs. Hudson agreed firmly. “Adam’s is a much better name.”
Joan reached the door first and pulled it open. Cool air and the faint smell of wood and lemon cleaner drifted out to meet them.
Bianca stepped inside with the others. The interior was dim compared to the bright street outside, but it smelled clean and fresh. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows along the front wall, catching on the polished bar and the rows of bottles behind it.
From farther inside the room came the soft sound of guitar strings being strummed.
“Hi, Adam,” Mrs. Schiller called cheerfully.
Adam looked up from where he sat on a stool with his guitar resting across his knee. He smiled easily when he saw them. “Morning, ladies. There’s fresh coffee on.”
“I’d rather get a Seven-Up, dear.” Mrs. Schiller moved toward the bar. “But I’ll pour for everybody else.”
Adam’s gaze shifted to Bianca. “You joined this group?”
“I was kind of swept along by it,” she admitted honestly, still feeling a little stunned by the entire procession. “I’d love water and will come help you, Mrs. Shiller.”
“Nope.” Mrs. Schiller waved her away. “You sit down.”
Bianca blinked. What exactly was happening here?
“Hi, Adam,” Joan said with a wink.
“Hi, Joan,” Adam replied. “How are you?”
A small, completely irrational flicker of jealousy sparked inside Bianca’s chest.
Joan was beautiful. Probably a few years older than Bianca, but confident and polished in a way that suggested she knew exactly how attractive she was. And she looked at Adam like he was dessert.
“Sit here,” Mrs. Poppins said, pulling out a chair for Bianca.
Bianca sat down automatically.
Mrs. Schiller soon returned with drinks and placed a glass in front of her.
Bianca glanced toward Adam, confused.
He just grinned.
“It’s our own little show,” Mrs. Poppins explained. “He tunes up and practices. Sometimes Dawn joins him.”
“Is Dawn coming today?” Mrs. Hudson asked.