Page 37 of A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

“Your place is amazing,” Cora said enthusiastically. “I’ve never been to a flower farm before.”

Lou’s one visible green eye radiated pride and excitement. “We’re very proud of it. Obviously what we’ve got blooming now won’t be available in September, but I’ve got some pictures and mock-ups in the office.”

“It looks good as new. You must have really been working on it.”

“Gavin’s been helping.”

“Oh, I know. He’s always sneaking off to come over here.”

Lou laughed, though it didn’t sound very happy. “Care to stop him?”

“You know Gav just wants to help,” Deb said gently.

“Well, he shouldn’t.”

“As if I could tell a man with the last name Tyler not to help. Owen might have died years ago, but it seems to be imprinted in the DNA.”

Lou glanced back at Cora, and she was so completely lost. She tried not to feel out of place. After all, Deb and Lou were old friends and neighbors. Cora wasjustthe wedding planner.

“We had a fire,” Lou explained. “In the barn.” She gestured to her bandana-covered face with her gloved right hand. “I’m about the only thing that survived. But we’re rebuilding, and Lou’s Blooms will be up and running and ready for this wedding by September.”

“I’m glad. We’ve got at least two more weddings scheduled for the year with Mile High Weddings, and we’d like to use as many Gracely-local vendors as possible.”

“I’m your girl,” Lou said, walking them toward the barn. As they got closer, Cora could see that, though the front looked completely finished, the building itself was still in the stages of being rebuilt.

They walked through the door, and everything inside was mostly wood. Unfinished walls and rafters, the smell of sawdust and flowers, and just the strangest underlying hint of smoke.

There were buckets and tables and big shelving units labeled with things likepurple laceandfloral tape.Even though it clearly wasn’t a finished florist-type space, there was a lot of evidence Lou Fairchild knew exactly what she was doing.

She led them over to a long table along the far wall. There were cutouts in the walls for windows, clearly, but plastic covered them.

“Windows go in next week,” Lou said with a careless wave toward the plastic. Then she tapped her non-gloved hand to the table. She had pictures all set out and a few bunches of flowers arranged together. “Pictures are of the flowers I’ll have in September. I brought in some possible color schemes with different flowers. Em told me what cake you chose, so I thought focusing on greens and whites would be good, but I’ve got some more colorful options to consider too.”

Cora studied the flowers, the color schemes. It was all beautiful, but Lou was right. For the things Deb had been looking at, the white and green with maybe some brown accents would be the prettiest.

Deb made an odd squeaking noise, and when Cora looked over she realized the woman was crying. Alarmed, Cora reached out. “Deb?”

“Oh, it’s so stupid.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Don’t know why I’m getting emotional.”

“Well, weddings are emotional,” Lou offered, eyebrows drawn together. “But you seem sad, Mrs. T. Not emotional.”

Deb sniffed and then made another sound, something like a swallowed sob. “Boone’s home,” she managed to croak.

“Ooh,” Lou said, because she knew all the history and all Cora knew was he’d been in the rodeo and was a troublemaker.

“Ben thinks I should kick him out, and we had a big fight over it, and then I started wondering last night if Shane and Gavin aren’t right about this whole thing. I’m not at the end of my life yet, but what’s a woman my age doing getting married?”

Lou and Cora looked at each other, both wide-eyed and a little lost. In Cora’s experience, Deb always knew what to do and never wavered. Cora wondered if, in all the years Lou had known Deb, she’d ever seen any uncertainty. Cora kind of doubted it.

“I just don’t know what to do. I’m willing to do something I want for myself and the man I love, even if it irritates my kids, but I’m not willing to turn my back on my kids for some man.”

“Well . . .” Lou looked helplessly at Cora with a shrug.

“If he loves you, he’ll understand how important your children are to you,” Cora said firmly.

“He can be so hard sometimes.” Deb sniffled, using the tissue Lou had handed her to dab at her eyes and nose. “But then so can I.”

“Deb Tyler, you are the least hard woman I know,” Lou said firmly. “Except maybe my sister.”

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