Carolina Moon

already opened the card. “Somebody always seems to know the right thing.”
    “Oooh, aren’t they sweet, aren’t they pretty.” Boots fluttered her hands over the flowers. ‘Tory, honey, you’ll drive me crazy if you don’t tell me who sent them.”
    Boots snatched the card Tory offered. “ ‘Good luck on your first day. Cade.’ Awww.”
    Head cocked, Iris pursed her lips. “Would that be Kincade Lavelle?”
    “Yes. Yes, it would.”
    “Hmmm.”
    “Don’t hmmm. He’s just being thoughtful.”
    “Man sends a woman flowers, the right flowers, he’s got a woman on his mind. Right, Cecil?”
    “Seems to me. Thoughtful’s a plant. Flowers are romance.”
    “Now there. See why I love this man?” Iris tugged on his shirt to bring him down for a kiss, and made Boots beam.
    “Daisies and sunflowers are friendly,” Tory corrected, but she had to struggle not to sigh over them.
    “Flowers are flowers,” Boots said firmly. “A man sends them, means he’s thinking about a woman.” And she dearly loved the notion of Cade Lavelle thinking about her niece. “Now, you go on and fuss with them, and I’ll put your cookies out. Nothing I love more’n getting ready for a party.”
    “Would you mind? I’ve got one of the raku pots in the storeroom. It’s perfect for these, and they’ll add a nice splash to the counter.”
    “Go on, then.” Iris waved her away. “You just point us in the direction things need to be done. We’ll get this show on the road.”
    The first customers walked in at ten-fifteen, headed by Lissy. Tory decided to take back every unkind thought she’d ever had about the former prom queen as Lissy proceeded to escort her friends around the shop and coo over merchandise.
    By eleven, she had fifteen customers browsing and debating and had already rung up four sales.
    By lunchtime, she was too busy to be nervous. There were stares, and there were whispers. Her eye or ear caught more than one, but she coated steel over the prickles of discomfort and boxed up the choices of the curious.
    “You used to be friends with the little Lavelle girl, didn’t you?”
    Tory continued to wrap the iron candlesticks in brown paper. “Yes.”
    “Terrible shame what happened to her.” The woman, with her sharp eagle eyes fixed on Tory’s face, leaned closer. “Hardly more than a baby. Was you who found her, wasn’t it?”
    “Her father found her. Would you like a box or a bag for these?”
    “A box. They’re for my sister’s girl. Getting married next month. Seems you went to school with her. Kelly Anne Frisk.”
    “I don’t remember many of the people I went to school with.” Tory lied with a pleasant smile as she boxed the purchase. “It was so long ago. Would you like this gift-wrapped?”
    “I’ll do that, honey-pot. You’ve got other customers.” Iris stepped in. “So, Kelly Anne’s getting married. I believe I remember her quite well. That’d be Marsha’s oldest girl, wouldn’t it? My, where do the years go?”
    “Kelly Anne had nightmares for a month after the Lavelle girl.” The woman said it with a quiet satisfaction that rang in Tory’s ears as she walked away.
    Tory was tempted to slip into the back, just to breathe until her heart stopped pounding. Instead she turned to a tall brunette who was debating over the selections of serving bowls. “Can I help you with anything?”
    “It’s hard to make up your mind with so many nice choices. JoBeth Hardy—Kelly Anne’s aunt there? She’s a very disagreeable woman. And you can hardly say anything to that. You always were a careful, composed creature. You won’t remember me.”
    The brunette held out a hand.
    “No, I’m sorry.”
    “Well, I was considerably younger then, and you weren’t in my class. I taught, still teach, second grade at Progress Elementary. Marietta Singleton.”
    “Oh, Miss Singleton. I do remember. I’m sorry. It’s nice to see you again.”
    “I’ve been looking forward to your opening. I’ve wondered about you off and on over the years. You might not have known I was friendly with your mother once. Years before you were born, of course. It’s a small old world.”
    “Yes, it is.”
    “Sometimes a little too close for comfort.” She glanced toward the door as Faith walked in. The two of them locked eyes, and that contact sparked before Marietta turned back to study the bowls again. “But it’s all we have to live with. I think I’ll take this one here, the blue on