Page 19 of A Heart in Bloom

January brought no further hysterics from Cammie, and she found herself opening up to the new friendships the Lord had brought into her life. The people of Hickory Falls and Sweet Valley were some of the most genuine and caring she had ever met, their kindness easing her transition into the community.

True to her word, Lauren Adler rallied her best friend Kate and teenage cousins, Missy and Vanessa, to help boost the flower inventory for the grand reopening. The event was a rousing success, drawing crowds from over an hour away. It became the second-highest sales day in Camellia’s Creations’history, proving the buzz around her shop was real. Even a local TV station stopped by for a surprise interview. Cammie hadn’t been prepared for the cameras but couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride, imagining her mother watching and smiling at her presentation.

By the end of the day, the shop was nearly bare. The sight left her stomach twisting with a moment of panic—until Harper appeared at her side, a little girl bouncing on her toes beside her. Harper leaned in and whispered, “Now we get to have some fun. How long until you can order supplies for the gift basket party Anika promised?”

Before Cammie could respond, the little girl whispered, her tiny fingers pressed over her mouth, “Miss Sullivan said I can help as long as I follow directions—which I’m really good at.” Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement, and Cammie couldn’t help but smile.

“I’d be honored to have your assistance with my gift baskets. What’s your name, princess?” Cammie asked, crouching to meet her at eye level.

The girl extended her hand, her glittery white-and-silver nails catching the light. “Grace Amelia Harrington. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Leaning closer, she added in a conspiratorial whisper, “My uncle Eric calls me princess, too.”

Grace resumed bouncing on her toes, her excitement radiating. Cammie chuckled, the little girl’s energy as infectious as her smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Grace.” Straightening, she turned to Harper. “I should be able to restock supplies by next week, but for the candy arrangements and baskets, I’ll need a bulk store run. Four hours of driving round trip will make things pretty tight.”

“I’ll be doing a supply run for the school dance and the Harrington House Valentine’s Ball,” Harper offered. “If youmake a list, I can grab what you need. They even offer curbside pickup if you’d rather order ahead.”

“Really? That would help so much,” Cammie said, her relief evident. “Let me know when you’re going, and I’ll set up the order. Thank you, Harper—that’s really above and beyond.”

Harper hugged her with a playful scold. “That’s just how we do things around here—haven’t you figured that out yet?” Her violet eyes sparkled warmly. “If you don’t feel like family now, you will after this basket party. Me and the girls can get a little rowdy, but maybe this one,” she added with a nod toward Grace, “will keep us in check. Let’s plan for the last Saturday of January. That gives us two weeks to gather supplies and spend the day making baskets. If we need extra help, we can call in the older women after church on Sunday—my mom and Greta are great at bows and cellophane.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” Cammie said, her excitement growing. “Allen thinks my apartment will be ready by then. If so, we could host it there—it’s close to the shelves and storage, and I’ll make sure there’s plenty of table space.”

Allen joined the group, congratulating Cammie on her success as he wrapped an arm around her and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. Little Grace pressed her hands to her lips and giggled, her eyes sparkling at the show of affection.

Later, after the crowd dispersed, Cammie locked up the shop for the day. With the space finally quiet, she turned her focus to creating the supply list for the basket party while waiting for her next flower shipment and preparing the week’s orders.

The next two weeks flew by as Cammie reestablished her routine. She and Allen spent most evenings together, with him working long hours to finish the apartment. By the second week of January, the bathroom was functional, and she moved in—her bedroom little more than a mattress on the floor surrounded bycanvas drop cloths stapled to overhead beams. By the end of the month, though, the space had become a home, and she loved it.

On Friday evening, as she set up tables and organized supplies for the next day’s basket party, Allen worked nearby, calking the granite countertops installed earlier that day. Her phone rang, partially buried under a rainbow of tissue paper. Without checking the screen, she tapped “accept” and put it on speaker.

“Cammie Lou, it’s your mother. Are you there?” A cultured southern voice sang over the line.

Cammie froze, surprised. She hadn’t spoken to her mom in nearly a month, too busy to deal with the inevitable prying. Excuses sent by text had kept her at bay until now. There was no avoiding it this time.

“Hello, Mamma,” she said, exhaling deeply as she braced for the inquisition she knew was coming.

“I know Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and you must be swamped, but I havewonderfulnews!” Her mother’s voice was alight with excitement, followed by a dramatic pause.

“Oh? What news is that?” Cammie asked dutifully, already anticipating the theatrics her mother enjoyed so much.

“There was a cancelation at the Biltmore, and Eloise’s connection was able to claim the day for your wedding. You and Judson need to clear your schedule for June eighteenth through twentieth—you’re finally getting married! And… we’re all coming to Glacier Ridge the week of Valentine’s Day to celebrate. The Carters rented the largest chalet on the mountain, and Wyatt called Judson’s boss to clear his schedule for your engagement photos and party. Invitations are going out today. Then, you, me, and Eloise will fly to New York on Wyatt’s jet to go wedding dress shopping. I know it’s not traditional for the groom’s mother to come, but she’s my best friend, and you’ve always been like a daughter to her. This will mean so much.”

Cammie couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as the words crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her world narrowed, the walls pressing in. Pressure clawed at her chest, sharp and unrelenting—until a warm, steady hand settled on her back.

Allen’s quiet strength anchored her, his presence wrapping around her like the soothing warmth of a bubble bath. Without a word, he slid a yellow sticky note onto the table in front of her.

In bold, dark letters, it read:You are loved. You are not alone. Live your life on your terms. You’ve got this.

Taking a deep breath, Cammie straightened her shoulders and reached for the phone on the table, lifting it to her face as she prepared herself for what was to come.

“Mamma,” she said firmly, her voice clear despite the storm raging inside her, “we need to talk...”

Chapter Seventeen

“Mamma, I love you, and I’m sorry I haven’t been honest about the situation, but you need to hold off on any announcements or invitations until Wyatt and Eloise talk to their son,” Cammie said, her voice soft but steady.

Her mother’s tone turned sharp, laced with suspicion. “Camellia Eloise Rodes, what are you not telling me?”

Cammie stiffened, every muscle locking up. No one ever won when her mother used that tone. But then Allen’s warm hands settled on her shoulders, his steady presence grounding her. Heleaned down to press a reassuring kiss to the side of her head, a silent reminder that she wasn’t alone.

---