Love in Bloom

“We have, indeed,” she agreed. “Thank you both. Very much.”

“You’re welcome. Now we really have to get going.”

“I understand. If I don’t run, I won’t make it to the grocery before it closes.”

He made a face. “The store closed early for the holiday.”

She bowed her head. “I should have thought of that.”

“You can have dinner with us,” Isabella instantly invited. “Right, Dad? We got lots of leftovers from our barbecue at Grandma’s house today.”

Lifting her head, Lily blinked at Tate, and he blinked back. He couldn’t very well leave her without dinner, and he needed to get home sooner rather than later.

“Tell you what, we’ll pick up some burgers at The Everything on the way out to our place. I saw they were open today, and I have to get home to feed the livestock. It’s not far, so I can just drive you back in later after the fireworks.”

Obviously surprised, Lily hesitated. He found himself holding his breath until she smiled and nodded, which made no sense at all, except that Isabella would have been disappointed, of course.

“Okay. Do I have time to run upstairs first?”

“Sure. I can lock up here and get Isabella into the truck.”

“Great.” She handed over the keys and hurried out.

He turned off lights, locked the doors, ignored his daughter’s none-too-subtle babbling about how much she liked Lily and belted the matchmaking little magpie into her booster seat.

“She has pretty hair and eyes and hands,” Isabella said, “and she’s very nice, too.”

“That’s enough now,” he told her firmly. “I don’t want to hear any more about it. Understand?” Isabella nodded, but he’d seen that look in her eye before. “I mean it. I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”

“If you had a wife—”

“I had a wife,” Tate reminded Isabella softly. “I don’t want another.” She quieted finally, and he pulled out his cell phone, saying casually, “I’m going to call ahead and order our burgers now, but this is not a date. It’s just a nice thing to do for someone new in town on a holiday. Got it?”

“Got it.”

He doubted that, but he tapped his daughter on the end of her button nose and closed the truck door.

Lily came skipping down the stairs a couple minutes later in skinny jeans, athletic shoes and a snug red T-shirt.

Tate tried not to gulp, but he had the sudden feeling that he’d just made a very big mistake.

Chapter Four

“I, uh, called ahead for the burgers,” Tate managed, trying not to stare. “Ordered yours with everything but cheese. So, uh, that way you can take anything off the burger that you don’t want.”

Lily smiled that soft smile that did funny things to his insides and said, “That’s fine.”

“I ordered the condiments on the side, too.”

“Okay.”

He wanted to kick himself. Instead he said, “Let’s go then.”

He opened the passenger door for her, then wished he hadn’t because of the way she smiled and the way that smile made him feel. Lily hopped inside the truck, and Tate hurried around to do the same and start up the engine.

The street was deserted, so he hooked a U-turn, came to a stop at the four-way and turned left onto Bronson. Half a block later, he turned left again, bringing the truck to a stop in front of the L-shaped building across from the school.

“Interesting building,” Lily commented.

Tate chuckled. “If by interesting you mean cobbled together from an old house, a shed and a gas station.”

“Why is it called The Everything?”

“Well, it’s part convenience store, part grill and part gas station, which was just about everything we needed around here at the time.”

“What are the picnic tables for?”

“Extra seating, and it gives the local teens someplace to hang out even when the grill is closed. Velma Dill, one of the proprietors, sometimes nukes frozen pizzas for them. Her husband, Elwood, is one of the SOS Committee members. You’ll meet them at the reception after the Grand Opening.”

“He’s the one with the beard,” Isabella put in from the backseat.

Tate chuckled. “It’s a joke. The Dills are self-proclaimed hippies, the long-haired sort, in their early 50s, both with visible tattoos, earrings and headscarves. They basically dress and look pretty much alike.”

“But Elwood has a beard, I take it,” Lily surmised.

“A long, scraggly one. He’s actually a pretty good guy. Gives gasoline to folks who can’t pay, and there are a lot of those around since Randall shut down the plant.”

“I read about that,” Lily said.

“The Dills have really stepped up since Randall Manufacturing closed,” Tate told her. “We try to give them as much business as we can. They’re open today so folks who can’t afford to cook out can get burgers at half price.”

Lily nodded. “Good to know. I don’t have a car, but the store is certainly convenient, and a girl’s gotta eat. I’ll be sure to give them my business.”

Smiling, Tate went in and picked up the burgers and fries while Lily and Isabella waited in the truck. As he climbed back in a few minutes later, he heard his daughter saying, “And Dad doesn’t ever do anything fun.”

Imagining what else she’d said, Tate reached into the bag and took out a cardboard cup of fries, passing them back to her, along with a bottle of water. “Here. Eat these.” That ought to keep her little mouth busy.

Instead of heading on down Bronson Avenue and then taking a left on Church Street, Tate chose to head east on School Drive. That way Lily got to see Bronson Park, with its pretty pond, gazebo and playground. They turned back south on Granary Road and passed by the old Bronson Homestead. The house now contained the Public Library. Behind the Homestead, on property donated by the Bronsons, stood Bygones Community Church, which fronted on the aptly named Church Street. They passed a few residential streets and then drove over a cattle guard onto Bronson property.

“So it’s the city limit on one side and your place on the other,” Lily clarified. “You’re practically in town then.”

“Nope. House is still a mile or so away.”

She lifted her eyebrows at that, quipping, “This is quite a yard you’ve got here.”

He chuckled. “You could say that. It’s part of the original holdings. My folks’ house is about a half mile east of mine. We’re country folk. Wouldn’t know how to get along in town.”

“I’m a city girl,” she said. “Bygones doesn’t really feel like town to me.”