Best Laid Wedding Plans (31 page)

Well, whatever. Maybe Ms. Pia would have some replacement roses. They wouldn't be Jenni Beth's grandma's, but right now, they'd do to keep the wedding on track.

He drove like a bat out of hell, his temper outweighing his good sense. He needed to fix this for Jenni Beth. Afterward, he'd prove Richard culpable. A siren rent the air, and Cole, swearing a blue streak, slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Could the day get any better?

He slowed and pulled onto the shoulder. Checking his rearview mirror, he watched Jimmy Don slip on his wide-brimmed trooper's hat before he moseyed up beside Cole's truck.

He lowered his window. “Hey, Jimmy Don. How are you doin' today?” He reached into his glove box for his registration.

“Better than you, Cole. What're you doin' back in town?”

“Helpin' Jenni Beth Beaumont, Wes's sister. She's renovatin' Magnolia House.”

Jimmy Don took the proffered registration and Cole's license. “Heard she's startin' up a weddin' business.”

“Yes, sir, she is.”

“So why are you in such an all-fired hurry?”

Cole met the trooper's gaze. “Jenni Beth had some trouble at her place last night, and I'm tryin' my best to help her. She's got a wedding comin' up in a couple days.”

Jimmy Don's eyes turned steely. “What happened?”

“Somebody tore out her rose garden.”

“What?” The sheriff's eyes went big.

“All her grandma's roses and the ones there before her have been destroyed. A very deliberate move to sabotage Jenni Beth's plans. This weekend's bride requested the rose garden for her wedding. Everything's ordered and on track.” He spread his hands. “Now? No rose garden.”

“Son of a pup,” Jimmy Don said. “Why didn't she call me?”

“She should have. Or I should have. To be honest, neither of us was thinkin' very clearly, I guess. But I did take some pictures with my phone.”

He pulled them up and handed his cell to the officer.

“You think kids did this?” Jimmy Don asked as he scrolled through them.

“Maybe.” Cole handed him the ball cap. “This was left behind.”

“That's Jeremy Stuckey's.”

“Yep. He probably did the actual damage, but I seriously doubt he was the mastermind. I've got a pretty good idea who was, but I don't have any proof. Not yet. I will, though.”

“Don't go doin' nothin' stupid, Cole.”

“I won't. You ought to take a ride out there, talk to Jenni Beth about this yourself. You can write up a report, maybe use the cap as leverage to get the kid to talk. In the meantime, I need to find some rosebushes. As soon as we're done here.” He nodded toward the cards Jimmy Don still held.

The trooper handed them back to him. “Go on. Get out of here. But slow down. Consider this your official warnin'.”

“Thanks.” Cole tucked his license into his wallet and put away his registration.

“I'm headin' out to the Beaumonts right now.”

Cole watched as Jimmy Don backed up, turned on his lights, and did a U-turn in the road.

Even with everything that had happened that morning, Cole smiled. Jimmy Don loved those lights and that siren. As it turned out, the stop had been advantageous. He hadn't gotten a ticket, and the vandalism at Magnolia House was on record.

But he still had to find—and buy—an entire damn rose garden.

Driving up Church Street, Cole scowled at the new sign outside the flower shop. It seemed strange to see Bella Fiore where Brenda Sue's name used to be. He reminded himself that nothing stayed the same. Change could be good.

Sometimes.

Last night's change in Jenni Beth's garden sure as hell hadn't been for the better.

Hot under the collar, he parked and slammed out of his pickup. He sure hoped the new owner had what he needed.

When he stormed in, a beautiful woman, long black hair curling around a Madison Avenue face, smiled at him. Whew. Full, pouty lips, enough cleavage to make a man drool, and a short little skirt just about guaranteed that any man who walked in the shop would have a rise in his blood pressure and an open wallet.

And yes, he was human. But he had more pressing matters to deal with. Besides, he found he had a preference for blonds with slate-blue eyes.

“Are you the new owner?” he asked, pushing everything but Jenni Beth to the back of his mind.

“I sure am.” Bracelets jingled at her wrist as she extended her hand. “What can I do for you?”

Oh, now there was a loaded question delivered with eyes that promised the world. He decided to tread carefully. “I had some flowers sent to my mother, Emma Bryson, last week. She said they were stunning. Thanks.”

“You must be Cole.”

“I am.”

“I'm glad she liked the bouquet.”

“Today I'm shopping for rosebushes. Do you carry any?”

“I do. I have a wonderful selection. They're in the side garden.” She opened the door and preceded him down the stairs and around the side. “What kind are you looking for?”

Cole scratched his head. “I don't really know.”

“Where did you plan to put them?”

By now, they stood surrounded by rosebushes of all kinds.

“They're not actually for me.”

“For your mother?”

“Nope, although now that you mention it, I might pick up an extra one for her.”

“That would be nice. You're a good son.”

“You from Jersey?” He picked his way down an aisle, leaning in to smell some of the roses as he went.

“I am. See any you like?”

“This one.” He pointed to a deep red rose. “And maybe this one.”

“Both great choices.”

“They're goin' to Magnolia House. My friend, Jenni Beth Beaumont, has a wedding this comin' weekend—in her rose garden.”

A guarded look came into Pia's eyes and shoved aside the sultry vixen. “Yes, I know Jenni Beth.” Pia fingered a leaf on one of the bushes. “I'm doing the flowers for this weekend's wedding. It's her first.”

“Yeah. And it's really important things go off without any hiccups. We've unfortunately run into a massive hiccup. Somebody destroyed her rose garden last night.”

He watched her face but other than a quick eye blink, she gave nothing away.

“If I catch the bastard who did it, he, or she, is gonna be one sorry SOB.” Cole figured he'd said enough. “Anyway, I'll take everything you have in red.”

Pia's expression changed. Cole studied her more carefully. Her color came up, and she looked extremely uncomfortable. Her eyes no longer met his.

“You okay?”

“Yes, it's just that, ah, I didn't realize you needed these right away.”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“Actually, um, these roses are sold.”

“All of them?” Disbelief crept into his words.

She nodded.

“I don't see any sold tags.”

She played with a large silver and turquoise ring. “I'm sorry.”

“How about the pink ones, the white or yellow ones?”

“They're all sold.”

“Why'd you show them to me?”

“I thought you were planning to order some.”

“You're kiddin'.”

He waited but she said nothing more.

He raised the stakes. “I'll pay you double whatever the askin' price is.”

Pia shook her head. “I can't. They're already paid for. What if they come to pick them up before I can get a new delivery?”

“Okay.” Mentally, Cole ran through the problem, searched for possible solutions. He didn't for a minute believe the plants were sold. Maybe if he pushed a bit, she'd give. “Who bought them? I'll call and explain the situation.”

“I don't have a name, and I don't know the people here in Misty Bottoms all that well yet.”

“A sale this big and you don't know who bought them?” He swept a hand, encompassing her display of roses.

“It was a developer.”

“What name was on the check, the credit card?”

“He paid cash.” She leaned down and pulled off a dead rose. “Honestly, I'd love to help Jenni Beth, but I can't.”

Cole stared at her, but Pia refused to meet his eyes. His jaw tightened. “I hate to come right out and say I don't believe you, but I don't believe you.”

Her back stiffened. “I'm sorry you feel that way.”

“Are you? I wonder.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Well, thanks for nothin'. I hope that developer gets back here soon to pick up this odd assortment of bushes. Strange that he'd go with such a variety.”

Pia shrugged. “Everyone has different tastes.”

“Isn't that the truth? When you talk to Richard, tell him I'll be around to see him. Soon.”

He ignored her surprised gasp and walked around to the front of the shop.

He couldn't remember ever being so angry. He was so furious he actually shook from it. Damned if he'd let them destroy Jenni Beth.

Inside his truck, he picked up his cell and started making calls.

* * *

“Slow down, Kitty. You're talking too fast. I can't understand you.” Jenni Beth dropped onto her office chair. If it was at all possible, this day had just taken a turn for the worse.

“Oh, honey, I'm sorry. The cake was almost finished. I had the bottom two layers finished, and it looked fantastic. Not like anything I'd ever done before, but nice.”

Jenni Beth gritted her teeth. She'd told the baker to slow down, not give her a blow-by-blow.

“Anyway, I left it setting on my worktable while I ran to the post office real quick. My grandson's birthday is this comin' week, and I wanted to pick up a special card for him and get it in the mail.”

“Okay,” Jenni Beth said patiently. “What happened to the cake?”

“Oh, the cake. It's ruined. While I was gone, Toby came in to wash up the dishes. She brought her two boys with her. Long story short…”

She hesitated and Jenni Beth rolled her eyes. “And?”

“They got to roughhousin', I guess. One of them bumped into the worktable and the cake toppled and fell to the floor.”

Jenni Beth pressed her forefingers against her eyes. “Can't you make another? The wedding's not today, Kitty. You've got plenty of time.”

“That's the thing. I'd put the cake topper, you know, the special one Stella sent me with the bride and groom on the Harley, on the table beside the cake. It fell off, too, and shattered into a million pieces.”

Jenni Beth didn't reply. Apparently the universe was dead set on derailing her first Magnolia Brides wedding and doing a bang-up job of it. First the venue, her grandmother's rose garden, destroyed, and now the cake and topper.

Her mind raced. “If I find you a topper, can you bake a new cake?” She fought to keep her voice even, to hide her frustration.

“I suppose so, but it would mean stayin' over tonight and workin' late. I have other orders, you know.”

“I'm sorry, Kitty, but I have a bride who needs a wedding cake on Saturday. One that's already paid for.”

Of course, without a garden maybe this was all a moot point. But Cole had said to let him worry about that. And, oh, jeez, wasn't that unfair? None of this was his problem.

Once again, though, he was stepping up to the plate. Loyalty to Wes? Desire to help her folks? And yet didn't he want her to fail so he could take over her home?

She chewed at her bottom lip. He'd promised not to tear it down, and she had to believe he'd keep his word. So what
would
he do with it?

Nothing. Because she refused to fail.

Things had changed between them. Simply thinking about him made her pulse race. Their night in Savannah—had to be put on the backburner. For now.

Nothing made sense anymore. A massive headache scrambled her brains, and she couldn't think.

“Where you gonna get another cake topper at this late date?”

“I honestly don't know, but you let me worry about that. If we need to, we'll improvise.”

“Your bride had her heart set on that one she sent special delivery.”

Thank you, Kitty
, Jenni Beth thought. “I understand, but you said it can't be repaired.”

“No, ma'am.”

“Bake and decorate a new cake, and I'll take care of the topper.”

After she hung up, she leaned back in her desk chair and fought back tears of frustration. Why had she ever thought she could do this?

Well, she was in it neck-deep at this point. She'd promised Stella and Steve she'd provide the perfect wedding for them. And, by darn, somehow or another she meant to do exactly that.

Five minutes on the computer and another five on the phone and she had an identical topper nailed down.

She phoned her dad who was on the golf course. “I hate to bother you, but I've got a huge problem.”

“Something more than the rose garden?”

“Yes.”

“What can I do to help, honey? Just a minute.” He put his hand over the phone, but she heard him say, “Go ahead. Play this hole without me.”

Then he was back to her. “Okay. I'm yours. What do you need?”

And there was the dad she'd always known. Confident. Plugged in. What a difference these past few weeks had made. Thank God!

She explained the problem with the smashed cake and topper and that she'd managed to track down another.

“I don't suppose you could make a trip to Savannah tomorrow?”

“As a matter of fact, I can. Think I'll take your mother along. We can leave early and have lunch at her favorite restaurant, pig out on their fried green tomatoes, crab cakes, and pickled watermelon rinds. It'll do her good. She hasn't been eating enough.”

“No, she hasn't been. You sure you don't mind?”

“Absolutely not. It's the least I can do.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I'm leery of having it delivered. If it doesn't get here, I'm sunk.”

“Understood. This is the smart way to handle it.”

She hung up. One problem down, and too many to count still to go.

Jenni Beth tossed and turned, too restless to sleep. Cole had assured her they could fix the rose garden before the wedding. She had serious doubts about that. The garden had been a work in progress for over a hundred and fifty years. How did you restore it in a day?

He'd left here in a huff, and she hadn't heard from him since. Although she did have a visit from Jimmy Don who'd said Cole had sent him. The sheriff took photos, questioned her, and filled out a report.

Flipping back the covers, Jenni Beth moved to the window.

Headlights! Aimed at the rose garden.

The vandal had come back? Well, this time it wouldn't go so well for him. Without thinking, she slipped on the pair of silver sequined flip-flops by her bed and ran down the stairs, through the hallway, and out into the humid night air.

As she rounded the house, the scent of roses, sweet and delicate, wafted to her. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. She heard the thwump of a shovel striking dirt. What? He'd come back for the roots?

“I've already called the cops,” she shouted, “and I've got a gun. If you know what's good for you, you'll get the hell off my land!”

The digging stopped.

Jenni Beth didn't know which was louder, the humming of the cicadas or the beating of her heart.

Please
, she prayed,
just leave
.

Slowly, the shovel dropped to the ground, and the intruder raised his hands.

She held her breath. What if he attacked her? She should have wakened her dad. Should have actually called Jimmy Don and grabbed some kind of weapon for defense. Had she turned into one of those romance novel heroines who was too stupid to live?

Despite the night's heat, she shivered.

When he turned and stared straight at her, the moonlight caught in his hair and highlighted him.

“Evenin', sugar.”

“Cole?”

“What in the hell are you doin' out here in your nightgown, Jenni Beth?”

She stared at him, speechless.

“If you do have a gun, sweetheart, put it down slowly before you hurt one of us,” Cole said.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Plantin' you a rose garden. I had to drive seventy-five miles to round up enough plants, and I've got a blister on my hand and about a dozen thorns in my fingers. So I'm feelin' kind of mean right about now. And here you are, rushin' out in the middle of the night to protect your garden. Don't you have a lick of sense?”

“Of course I do. Do you have any idea what time it is? Why are you here in the dark?”

“Because I just got back into town.” He squinted into the dark. “You
don't
have a gun, do you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“And you didn't call the police.”

Warned by the edge in his voice, she hesitated. “No.”

He swore. “Somebody needs to take you over his knee and give you a good spankin'.”

“Well, it won't be you!”

His eyes glittered in the moonlight—anger and something else.

“I wouldn't bet on that, sugar.”

He moved toward her, and she took several steps in retreat. “Don't you come near me, Cole Bryson, or so help me I'll scream bloody murder. Daddy
will
have a gun when he comes running out, and he won't hesitate to use it.”