Magnolias and Mercy (Wildflower Wishes Book 1) Page 2

  “I’ll let him know you said so.” Kami strode from the front window before whoever was driving the truck climbed out of it, leaving her curiosity piqued. With a truck like that, it was probably someone desperate for a load of mulch. The current storms were supposed to ease through the night, promising clear, blue skies in the morning. Tomorrow would be perfect weather for planting. Perhaps she’d finally even tackle the flower beds at the front of her small house if she could spare an hour or two away from the restaurant.

  If Jada shows up.

  Kami vowed to march straight to the woman’s house and drag her from her bed and all the way to the restaurant, if necessary. If she wasn’t a cousin by marriage, although twice removed, Dad would have canned her months ago.

  Considering options and making a mental list of the supplies she’d need, Kami went after the coffee carafe. As she rounded the service counter, she breathed in the tangy scent of pizza sauce mingled with oregano and fennel from the Italian sausage links her father had prepared from scratch sometime between the lunch and dinner crowds. Pappy’s specialized in Sicilian style pizza, but everyone loved Anthony Moretto’s spaghetti with fennel sausage, too.

  Music drifted from the overhead speakers. A snappy country tune had Kami humming along. The melody revived her as she reached for a coffee carafe. She supposed she’d better brew at least one more pot of dark roast. Mrs. Baker was sure to drain what remained of this one all on her own.

  “Order’s up.” Her dad called from the other side of the kitchen pass-through window. “Thin crust with double anchovies and a plate of fettuccini, table four.”

  “Got it.” Kami whirled to snag the pale green order ticket from the window. “Add a basket of garlic knots for the Bakers. They’re singing your praises today, by the way.”

  “Is that so? Well, that sure beats last week when Mrs. Baker complained the gazpacho was cold. It’s supposed to be chilled, right?”

  “That’s right, Dad.” Kami wrinkled her nose as she set the carafe and plate of spaghetti on a tray before reaching for the silver pizza pan and the basket of garlic knots her father had placed alongside. Anchovies were not a favorite of hers. It was the only food in the restaurant she couldn’t stomach. The smell alone nauseated her, even after years viewing the poor little fish lying like wounded soldiers in a mass of tangy sauce and melted mozzarella.

  Ugh…

  She crossed the tile floor, making quick delivery of the pizza before moving on to refill Mrs. Baker’s coffee. She added a healthy splash to Mr. Baker’s mug, as well, and dropped a handful of creamer cups on the table along with the knots.

  “How’s that?” She offered her best smile.

  “Perfect.” Mrs. Baker lifted her soup bowl and tipped it to her lips, draining the last drop before she reached for a garlic knot and wiped the ceramic basin clean.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m…so glad to see you’re enjoying your meal.” Kami backed away, taking the carafe with her. She supposed her dad should consider it the highest compliment that the bowl now looked as clean as it had before he’d filled it. “If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

  “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, honey.”

  A bell over the front door chimed, signaling another customer had arrived. Conflict bit at Kami’s belly. She was thankful for the business that would help them stay afloat another week, but dragging on her feet. She prayed for the strength to make it to closing time. She couldn’t let her dad see how exhausted she felt. It would just add more worry to his already overflowing plate.

  She drew a deep, cleansing breath and turned toward the door. Philippians 4:13 washed over her, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’

  “Hi, Kami. How are you today, my dear?” Hattie Cutler’s grin was contagious, but that wasn’t what stopped Kami in her tracks.

  The breath she’d been holding whooshed out.

  It was the man at Hattie’s side—her eldest son, Wyatt. Dark and mysterious…that’s how Kami always thought of him; the most elusive of the Cutler clan and so different from his three younger siblings.

  “I’m…fine.” Kami found it hard to speak while Wyatt’s eyes, like two pieces of polished bronze, scanned the length of her. A scowl formed as a single furrow along his forehead deepened into a thin line. Dark hair tumbled over the collar of his navy shirt in mussed waves of rich russet. How was it possible for any human to possess such impossible good looks?

  Suddenly, the carafe she held weighed fifty pounds. Her hands felt weak as globs of gelatin. She swallowed hard and managed a raspy, “Hello, Wyatt.”

  “Kami?” His gaze narrowed and the scowl widened as he wrestled the wobbling carafe from her. “Don’t drop this. You’ll burn yourself. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, of course I’m okay.” She smoothed her French braid, grimacing at the flyaway strands that had escaped an elastic band to dance around her heated face. Dad must have turned up the thermostat against the chilly rain, because suddenly she was sweltering. The palms of her hands were slick as she snatched the carafe back from him. “And give me this. I’m perfectly capable of handling it. What’s wrong with you, Wyatt? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do I look so different from the last time you saw me?”

  “It’s been a long time, so yes…I mean, no.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his gaze capturing hers and holding tight. “It’s just…you’ve grown up.”

  “Well, that’s a real shocker.” Frazzled nerves sizzled and popped as she swiped her free hand along the thigh of her jeans and adjusted her apron, splattered with a full day’s worth of preparing and serving meals. Her feet screamed in worn tennis shoes and her lower back cried out through a tangle of nerves. “Time does that to a person, you know.”

  “Right. Of course…” He shook his head and turned toward the closest booth. “Forget it. Can we sit here?”

  “Sit wherever you’d like. I’ll be right back.” Kami crossed over to the serving counter to place the carafe back on the burner. Her heart did an annoying little two-step as she returned with a pair of menus and placed them on the polished table along with silverware wrapped in downy-white napkins. What on earth was wrong with her?

  “Kami, you’ve lost weight.” Hattie Cutler frowned. “How is that possible when you’re around Anthony’s cooking day in and day out?”

  “I stay busy here. Sometimes I guess I forget to eat.”

  “That’s awful, dear. And here we are…making more work for you.”

  “You are never work, Hattie.” Kami’s smile was genuine. “You’ve been so kind since Mama…”

  “Oh, you poor thing.” Hattie stood and drew her in for a hug and the scent of her perfume was soothing. “You’ve endured so much hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s Dad I’m worried about. He’s been so sad lately. I can barely get him to leave the restaurant, even to sleep.”

  “If I know anything, I know Anthony Moretto is a strong and hardy man. He’ll be just fine in time. You’ll see.”

  “Thank you, Hattie. That helps.” Kami swiped the tears that pooled in her eyes as she swallowed hard and turned to Wyatt. “So, how long are you home for?”

  “I’m not—”

  “Oh, he’s home for good,” Hattie interrupted as she slipped into the booth. “He hasn’t figured it out yet, but mark my words, he is.”

  “Mom, please.” Wyatt joined her on the opposite side. “I never said—”

  “He’s going to help manage the nursery,” Hattie interjected, nodding enthusiastically. “He’ll do a fine job.”

  “I’m sure he will. Welcome home, Wyatt.”

  He nodded stiffly without saying a word, but his eyes told her everything.

  Kami struggled for words as her belly did an odd little series of somersaults. For as long as she could remember, Wyatt had been waiting to leave the small town of Clover Cove. The nursery must be in dire straits for h
im to agree to return, even for a short length of time. Would he be able to rescue it?

  She wanted to blurt out the question, but instead she focused on Hattie. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “I’ll take sweet tea with lemon.” Hattie smiled at her, and suddenly Kami’s heart ached. Oh, how she missed her mother! Everything had seemed to fall apart since she was gone. She was the glue that had held the pizzeria—and their family—together. Kami sighed with longing. She’d give anything to sit with Mom and talk just one more time, to feel her gentle embrace. There was so much she longed to share. She tucked away the longing and drew a breath as she placed extra napkins on the table.

  “Tea it is.” With a slight hitch in her voice, Kami turned back to Wyatt. “And for you?”

  He settled back in the seat and flicked open a menu. “I’ll start with some coffee, if it’s fresh.”

  “It’s always fresh.” Kami motioned toward the sputtering industrial-sized coffeemaker. “And there seems to be a run on it tonight. I’ll bring over a cup right away.”

  “Good, and some creamer, too.” Wyatt flipped the menu to the back side. He scanned the dinner specials as he continued, “None of that fancy flavored stuff, either.”

  “FYI, we don’t carry the fancy, flavored stuff here.” She reached into her apron pocket for an order pad. “Just your basic steaming-hot cup of java. It gets the job done, though.”

  “That’ll work. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Would you like the usual, Hattie?”

  “That’s right…spaghetti and meatballs, extra sauce. Your dad makes the best.”

  “Thank you. I’ll pass along the compliment. And you, Wyatt?”

  “Hmm…” He closed his menu and sat back against the booth cushion. “A small, deep-dish pizza loaded with anchovies ought to do the trick. And, while I’m waiting, I’d like an order of those little parmesan-dusted, buttered—”

  “Garlic knots.” Kami finished for him as she jotted down the order. “I got it. Coming right up.” Kami turned, ripping the order sheet from the dwindling pad before tucking the cardboard sheaf back into the pocket of her apron. As she crossed the room, her pulse skittered with a disturbing blend of exhaustion and anticipation. Wyatt had come home. His return was a good thing, because it was no secret that Hattie Cutler was in urgent need of help at the nursery.

  But, by the scowl plastered on Wyatt’s face, he was none too happy about the homecoming. Last Kami had heard, he was hip deep in some high-powered job at a big-time New York marketing agency. Had he relinquished that indulgent lifestyle? And, if he had, how long would he last here in modest Clover Cove before he grew restless and ran the road heading north to the Big Apple once again?

  And why did the thought of him leaving a second time make Kami feel as if a family of mice was river-dancing along her spine?

  She blew out a breath as she filled a mug with coffee. There was no earthly explanation, except exhaustion must be sucking all common sense right out of her.

  Chapter 3

  SUNLIGHT SPILLED THROUGH THE OPEN service door as Kami tugged off her apron and hung it on a hook beside the rear door. “I’ll be back in a few hours, Dad,” she announced as she turned to kiss his flour-dusted cheek. “Jada will handle the after-lunch crowd. Don’t work too hard while I’m gone, okay?”

  “Work is my elixir.” He gave a bundle of bread dough a few smacks with the flat side of his fist before reaching for a rolling pin. The rich, indulgent aroma of yeast hung in the air, reminding Kami she’d skipped lunch again.

  “Well, even too much of a good thing can be a detriment.” She patted his forearm. “You need to rest, too.”

  A resigned sigh erupted from his chest. “I’ll rest when I’m in the grave with your mother.”

  “Dad!” Kami’s throat tightened as her heart skipped several beats. “Don’t say that. You’re going to live forever, right?”

  “Sure, honey.” He turned from the dough long enough to layer lasagna noodles along an abundance of vegetables in oversized aluminum pans. His movements, honed through years of practice, came naturally as a dance. Butter and olive oil mingled with the sweet smell of rising bread, while a cluster of chopped zucchinis sizzled in an oversized frying pan. Veggie lasagna was on the marquee as tonight’s specialty, along with the ever-present, complimentary garlic knots. “Go buy yourself some plants and get that pretty little house of yours looking all spring-like. Take your time, honey. It’s too warm and sunny to be stuck inside today. I sense the first hint of spring in the air. Your mama always loved spring, with so much warm sunshine kissing her cheeks and the robins singing their love songs to one another.”

  “I know, dad.” Memories of her mom flooded Kami’s mind and heart. “She loved flowers, too. I’m going to re-pot some pink magnolias and cook dinner for you one night this week. It’s about time someone prepared you a hot and hearty meal, instead of the other way around. Let Fred handle the kitchen duties around here once in a while. He’s almost twenty-two now, and nearly finished with culinary school. He wants to help us get things done here at Pappy’s. He told me so again just yesterday.”

  “Maybe I’ll do that.”

  “Not just maybe, Dad. Promise me you will.”

  “Aw, honey…”

  “Promise me, Dad.”

  “Okay, I promise.” Anthony turned back to the flour-coated, butcher-block table. “I’ll have a talk with Fred.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. I love you, Dad.” Kami kissed his cheek once more and straightened the collar of his polo shirt before brushing stray flecks of flour from the fabric. She smiled as her gaze searched his for the glimmer of a smile in return. When none came, she sighed and dropped her hands. “Don’t work too hard while I’m gone. I’ll be back in a bit to brew iced tea and prepare the salads for tonight.”

  Reluctantly, she turned from him and pulled open the door to step into the alley. The dumpsters were overfilled, and she was glad garbage pick-up was scheduled for that afternoon. So many details to tend to, and all her dad wanted to do was hide in the kitchen. She supposed it was his therapy. She felt like hiding, too, but she couldn’t. The proverbial ship here at Pappy’s would sink, dragging both her and Dad down with it. Maybe her cousin Fred could help shoulder a bit more of the burden once his final classes were finished, only a few more weeks away. If Dad forgot to follow through on his promise to speak with Fred, she’d have a heart-to-heart with him herself and see what she could finagle in that department.

  Kami rounded the corner of the pizzeria and sunlight spilled over her, warming her shoulders as she stepped from the shadow of the building and headed toward the street. Classical music drifted like a soft whisper on a light, warm breeze, carrying with it the sweet scent of roses. One look at the vibrant explosion of red, pink, and white blooms told her the nursery had just received a shipment of plants. Wyatt and Reese stood at the back of a box-truck, unloading. They both wore heavy gloves to protect their hands from thorns camouflaged by tender blossoms. Reese was sensibly clad in his usual scuffed cowboy boots along with ancient ripped jeans and a navy T-shirt. But Wyatt wore neat, form-fitting stonewashed jeans and a long-sleeved white dress shirt. Well, she was sure at some point this morning the shirt had been white, although now it was stained with dirt. What had he been thinking to come to the nursery dressed like that?

  As she neared the truck the brothers’ conversation—good-natured jabs of bantering back and forth—carried on the breeze.

  “I think you ordered too many rose bushes, Reese.” Wyatt tossed his brother a bush as if it weighed no more than a feather. A few petals fluttered to cover the ground in a splash of pink confetti. “We could have done with half as many.”

  Reese caught the plant and lined it up along the front of the lot with the others. “Then we’d just be ordering more by week’s end.” He climbed into the truck and slid a half-dozen more toward the drop-off. “That takes time that we don’t have. Better to do it this way, all in one shot. People expec
t to find what they want when they come here. If they have to return for something, it shouldn’t be because we were out of stock.”

  “Throw money at any more orders like this without substantial turnaround, and the customers will find nothing here but an empty lot.” Wyatt winced as blood beaded up along his forearm where a thorn had snagged the skin. “That’s no good.”

  “You’re the numbers guy.” Reese disappeared into the back of the truck for a moment to fetch another bundle of bushes. “That’s why you’re here, to untangle the books and set them to right again.”

  “In order to do that, I have to spend time in the office, not unloading trucks like we’ve been doing all day.”

  “Unpacking shipments and displaying stock comes with the territory at this time of the year.”

  “Even so, I need to chisel out some time to look at the books.”

  “Is that a whine I hear in your voice?” Reese smirked at him. “Living in the city has turned you soft, bro.”

  “No, it hasn’t.” Wyatt gave his head a stiff shake and tapped a temple. “It made me smart.”

  “Yeah, you look like a real genius in that dress shirt and pretty-boy jeans.” Reese’s laughter sprinkled the air as he handed down the last of the bushes. “Better relegate those clothes to your work pile now, ’cause even a boatload of bleach won’t get the dirt stains out.”

  Kami cleared her throat with exaggeration as she neared the truck. “Hey guys.”

  “Hey, Kami.” Reece tossed the greeting her way with predictable joviality.

  In stark contrast, Wyatt’s head snapped up, the telltale furrow creasing his forehead. His gaze read like a threatening thunderstorm. “What are you doing here?” The words carried an unwelcome bite. “We’re busy.”

  “Well, that’s some top-rate customer service.” Kami stepped around the rosebushes, enjoying the sweet fragrance while her belly roiled at Wyatt’s obvious displeasure at the sight of her. What was it about her that set him off? “Do you greet everyone that stops by to make a purchase this way?”