Page 4 of A Heart in Bloom

In a desperate attempt to save them both, he pivoted sharply, his free arm wrapping securely around her waist. “Hang on!” he barked, pulling her to him as his boots slid wildly on the slick cement. The boxes in his other hand tilted ominously before surrendering to gravity, hitting the frozen ground with a series of splats.

They spun awkwardly, their feet tangling as they lurched one way, then the other, locked in a frantic, uncoordinated waltz. His grip on her tightened as he fought to regain control. Finally, with a heavy thud, his back slammed into the brick wall of the café, bringing their dangerous dance to a jarring conclusion.

For a moment, neither of them moved. His arms stayed firmly around her waist while her hands clutched the denim of his coat as they both caught their breath.

Cammie’s heart pounded as she clung to him, her breath uneven. The near fall—and impromptu icecapade—had left her reeling. Being pressed against the solid chest of an outrageously handsome man didn’t help matters.

She glanced up, her gaze locking onto his piercing blue eyes—vivid as the cornflowers she loved using in wildflower arrangements. His dark brown hair, rugged jawline, and weathered skin only added to his commanding presence. She’d never been so drawn to a man in her life—and she had literally just run into this one.

Allen couldn’t breathe. Whether it was the impact knocking the wind from his lungs or the stunning woman before him, he couldn’t say. Her soft chestnut waves tickled his fingers where they rested against her back, and the intensity in her hazel eyes, flecked with green, held him captive like nothing ever had before.

This morning, he’d watched his friends and their significant others preparing for the gala, silently praying for the Lord to send his soulmate soon. And now, there was a woman wrapped in his arms, as though heaven itself had orchestrated the moment.

“Oh my goodness! Is everyone all right? We saw the whole thing through the windows and could only hold our breath!” An older woman with gray-streaked blond hair and a perfectly proportioned figure wrapped in a black apron bustled out of the café, fluttering and fussing.

“Allen Calhoun, it’s a good thing you were such a star athlete growing up, or that could have ended badly. Still, here in Hickory Falls, we prefer to greet our guests with a handshake or a hug—not a death-defying dance or a closer-than-skin embrace.” She patted him on the shoulder as she stepped carefully around the splattered mess on the sidewalk—cherry, blueberry, apple, and Boston cream fillings oozing into a sticky, colorful smear across the icy cement.

“You can let her go now, Allen. I’m sure she’s safe and perfectly capable of standing on her own two feet,” the older woman said, raising an eyebrow. Then, with a warm smile, she looped herarm around Cammie’s and ushered her into the cozy café. Over her shoulder, she called, “Allen, dear, clean up this mess as best you can before you take down another unsuspecting patron. Put up the slippery caution sign until Bart can come out to scrub the area and throw down more salt. And don’t worry—I’ll get you more pies for your mama.”

She guided Cammie to an empty booth by the window and added, “I’m Ashley Davis, though everyone in town just calls me Mrs. Davis. Sometimes, I wonder if anyone even remembers my first name. My husband and I own this place.” She paused, giving Cammie an assessing look before continuing, “Order whatever you’d like—it’s on the house as a welcome to town. It’s the least we can do after you were nearly killed on our sidewalk.”

Mrs. Davis crossed her arms, peering out the window as Allen bent to retrieve the smashed pies. “I’m usually grateful for a town full of strapping young men, but on occasions like this, I wish they came in slightly smaller packages,” she muttered with a hint of exasperation before turning back to Cammie. “Now, can I get you started with a hot chocolate, coffee, or tea?”

Cammie fought hard not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. She had never experienced anything so comical in her life. Mrs. Davis fluttered around like a mother hen, while Allen crouched on the sidewalk, picking up cherries glistening like tiny jewels against the frosted ground. Curious townsfolk peeked out of the café windows, their faces alight with concern and quiet amusement.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate and whatever your special is today,” Cammie said, her voice tinged with lingering humor. “I’d also like to pay for that gentleman’s pies. It was my fault—I shouldn’t have been standing in the doorway gawking.”

“Oh, but gawking is the best part of visiting a new town,” Mrs. Davis replied with a knowing smile. “Though you should be able to do it without an Army Ranger taking you down. I’ll have yourfood up in a minute—get yourself settled.” With that, she bustled away, leaving Cammie shaking her head in bemusement.

Army Ranger, huh.That was an interesting bit of information to drop unnecessarily, Cammie thought, watching Allen enter the café holding the crushed boxes streaked with pie remnants. There was no denying it—he carried himself like a soldier. His straight shoulders, long back, and confident stride spoke of discipline, while the outline of thick arms beneath his coat hinted at strength earned through hard work.

Shaking her head, Cammie turned to the window, willing herself to focus on anything else. No. She wasn’t interested in Allen Calhoun. She’d sworn off men years ago, and now—with her life in chaos—was no time to break her “no men” rule. It would be better for everyone if she never saw him again.

And yet, her gaze drifted back to him as he left the café, pies in hand. She watched as he climbed into an overly large black truck. He moved with a grace that stirred something deep inside her—a pull she didn’t want to acknowledge. Her thoughts circled back to the moment his arms had steadied her. Allen’s presence had been grounding and unsettling all at once, slipping past the walls she’d carefully built.

It wasn’t just his rugged good looks or powerful presence. It was the way he’d looked at her, as though he saw something she barely recognized in herself. The “no men” rule had protected her for years, but with Allen, it suddenly felt fragile.

Before she could unravel her tangled thoughts, Mrs. Davis returned with her meal—chicken pot pie, green beans almondine, and a refreshing house salad. The rich aroma wrapped around her like a hug, and she forced her attention back to the café, focusing on the warmth and liveliness around her... but the thought of Allen lingered like an uninvited guest she couldn’t quite send away.

Mrs. Davis flitted by frequently, gathering bits of information about Cammie and freely sharing town gossip in return. By the time Cammie finished her meal, she felt as if everyone in the café knew her name—either through introductions or whispers passed between tables.

A warmth she hadn’t felt in years began to settle in, a tiny spark of connection—a glimpse of what starting over in Hickory Falls might offer.

The miles passed slowly as Allen drove the four hours to Boston, his thoughts firmly rooted back in Hickory Falls. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the startled yet captivating way she’d looked at him—as though, for a brief moment, the world had shifted. He’d never believed in love at first sight, but today had him questioning everything.

Every fiber of his being wanted to turn the truck around, to ask her name, to see her again. But he was already late, and his family was waiting. They came first.

If God had truly sent him his soulmate, she’d be there when he returned.The thought steadied him, even as longing tugged at the edges of his resolve. Still, if she wasn’t, he wouldn’t let her slip away so easily. He’d find her—whatever it took. Even if that meant digging through café receipts or calling in a favor from a buddy in intelligence to track her down. Nobody paid with cash these days, right?

He smiled at the ridiculousness of his plan but didn’t dismiss it entirely. Some things were worth the effort. And something about her told him this was one of those things.

Chapter Five

January second dawned crisp and bright. Cammie stepped into the chilly morning air, her breath forming small clouds as she glanced up at her storefront. The snow had been cleared from the street and walkways, leaving wet cobblestones shimmering in the sunlight. Grabbing an armful of boxes, she made her way into the freezing cold shop. Getting the electricity turned on and figuring out the heat—whatever kind this place used—was at the top of her list.

On her fourth or fifth trip, the faint jingle of the old brass bell hanging above the door startled her. Her heart leapt as atall man stepped inside, brushing snow from his coat. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, his face obscured by the glare of light reflecting off the snow outside and the dim shadows of the shop’s interior.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he said, squinting into the shadows where Cammie stood at the back of the shop. His deep baritone voice was smooth and warm. “You must be Cammie Rodes. Zach said you’d be here this morning.”

---