Chapter Twenty-Two

HALEY

February 10

She sat on the stairs, phone pressed to her ear, fingers pressed to her forehead. “I understand. Thank you. Okay . . . I will.” She hung up, dropping the phone beside her on the step.

The city hall was confused about the status of her permits and it was the second week of February.

Glancing toward the ceiling, Haley made an appeal to heaven for help, for favor. Since that day in Charlotte’s shop, she’d found a bit of freedom, her confidence in the God of her youth returning.

Prayer came more quickly. Not vacant words to a God she wasn’t sure listened, but hope-filled words to a God who would never forsake her.

Last week she went to church for the first time since before Dax. Looking back, she could see he was just the end of a long, slow slide away from everything she believed in. She let life obliterate her truth and values.

Well, back to the shop. Nothing was going on with the renovation because the permits were lost in red tape.

But yesterday she joined the Downtown Business Owners Association. Afterward she met with Emma Branson and Taylor Gillingham at Ella’s about the wedding chapel on River Road to see if they could partner up. Taylor’s husband was in advertising and Haley hoped he could offer some help. Pro bono.

“I’m the mother of his child. He’ll do what I ask,” Taylor informed her with a sneaky laugh.

Haley had also written out a plan to involve local businesses on her opening day, which was tentatively scheduled for June 15. If she could get enough inventory. Turns out renovations were cake compared to getting the inventory she wanted.

Using Charlotte’s contacts, she’d called a few designers in New York and one in Atlanta to see about consigning inventory for an opening-day trunk show, but they all but laughed at her. Polite silk-and-tulle laughter, of course.

“We’re booked this season. Maybe next May. Call us in the fall to set it up.”

Haley closed her eyes, tipping her head toward the ceiling, trying to listen with her spirit. What should she do?

“Lord, if this shop is not what I’m supposed to do, make it clear. If You don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

Haley relished in a peaceful repose, not thinking of anything, half listening to what God might say, half drifting to sleep, when the shop door eased open.

An older woman with tender lines marking her face stepped inside, her fur-lined coat buttoned to her chin.

“Are you Haley?”

“I am. Can I help you?”

She gripped her gloved hands at her waist. “I’m Mrs. Elliot. Lenora Elliot.”

“Welcome to The Wedding Shop. Well, what I hope will be The Wedding Shop.”

“I’ve been here before.”

“You bought your dress here? From Cora?”

“Indeed I did. Sixty years ago. Walked down those wide stairs.” She moved to the base of the steps without faltering, her countenance strong, her gaze fixed toward the mezzanine. “My mother and mother-in-law sat right over here along with my sisters and best friend.” She pointed to the large salon. “It was springtime, but winter’s chill was still in the air. The shop was so cozy and warm with wedding talk, hot tea, and music. We all cried when I descended the stairs. I wore a white dress with a full tea-length skirt and a sweetheart neckline, and a simple veil, but wasn’t I princess for the day? A southern Jackie O. Miss Cora suggested the most lovely suit for my going-away outfit. We couldn’t afford both so she gave me what had to be a very generous discount.”

“I hear she did that a lot with her customers.”

“A finer woman never lived. She threw in some lovely jewelry too. Of course it wasn’t anything expensive, costume stuff, but I’d have had nothing otherwise. She made me the beautiful bride I always wanted to be.”

“Do you live in Heart’s Bend, Mrs. Elliot?”

“I did the first year of marriage, but then I moved to Los Angeles with my husband. We raised our family there. Bean died a week ago.” Her hazel eyes misted. “He wanted to come home to be buried.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I loved that man for sixty-five years. Sixty of them married. We had four children—two boys, two girls. I wanted to bring my girls here for their trousseaus, you know, pay Miss Cora back for her kindness to me, but she’d closed the shop by the time they married.” The woman’s eyes glistened as she raised her gaze to Haley. “Of course, they were modern California girls who had their own ideas of what to wear for their wedding. Couldn’t interest them in my fifties-style gown. Now my granddaughters are clamoring for it. Calling it ‘classic vintage.’ ” Mrs. Elliot reached for Haley, pressing a piece of paper into her palm. “I heard someone was reopening the shop and I just want to say good luck with your plans. God bless you.”

“Thank you.” Haley glanced down to find a folded check. “Mrs. Elliot, please, I can’t take your money.”

“You can and you will.” She raised her chin, pointing a long manicured finger at Haley. “I want to bring my granddaughters here in a few years.” She paused at the door. “Such a lovely, splendid place with so many brides as its heritage.”

“But you don’t even know me.” She offered back the check. “How can you trust me with your money?”

Mrs. Elliot closed her hand over Haley’s. “The moment I heard someone was opening the shop, my heart leapt in my chest. I knew I was to help. Just knew it. Bring this place back to life, let it be the darling of Heart’s Bend again.”

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.” Haley slipped the check into her pocket.

Mrs. Elliot toured the shop one more time, describing the old grandfather clock, the wide gold divan, the plush chairs, the china tea service, the light and aura of the shop. Then she made her way to the front door. “I hope to see you soon with my granddaughters.”

Haley drew her into a gentle hug. “I would love that, Mrs. Elliot. And thank you again. It means everything to me.”

Alone in the shop, Haley retrieved the check from her pocket. She dropped against the banister as she read the amount.

Ten thousand dollars. Ten. Thousand. Dollars.

She couldn’t. Just couldn’t take this amount of money. “Mrs. Elliot.” Haley called to her from the front door, then raced to the curb, but Mrs. Elliot had already gone.

Back inside, she sat on the steps and glanced at the check. Great. No address. Just her name.

Well, okay. Then she’d take it. She didn’t feel worthy of this generosity, but as she waved the check toward heaven, gratitude spilled into her soul. “Thank you.”

“Haley?” Cole stepped inside, joining her on the bottom step. “I was just at city hall to check on the permits.”

She glanced up at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’m calling them every day.”

“I thought I’d add my muscle.” He sat forward, arms resting on his legs.

“Really?” She squeezed his arm. “Do you have any to spare?”

“Ha-ha, such a funny girl.” He slipped from his jacket and popped his bicep, letting it strain against his shirtsleeve. “I can spare a few inches.”

“I’ll take all the help I can get.”

He rubbed his hands together, slipping back into his jacket. The shop was cold with no heat running. “Not doing anything is driving me crazy. Did I tell you I saw Brant Jackson in Linus Peabody’s office? And I saw them together at Java Jane’s, scheming. If those two are in cahoots . . .”

“Cole, look.” Haley handed him the check. “Another of Cora’s brides stopped by. She gave me this. I’m halfway to our reno budget.”

He snatched the check from her hand. “She walked in and handed you ten thousand dollars?”

“She reminisced first, then she handed me ten thousand dollars.”

Cole’s grin slipped wide. “Haley, someone is watching out for you. I don’t want you to doubt ever again.”

“Not someone.” Haley took the check, tucking it into her pocket, a smile burning in her gut. “God is watching out for me.”

“All right, God is watching out for you.” Cole stood, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. Jeans that fit all too nicely. Had he always been so good-looking? Hard to tell since she was always looking at him through Tammy’s lens.

“Why do you think God would want a 126-year-old shop reopened in Heart’s Bend? Or for me to do it?”

He glanced back at her and the intensity in his gaze made her heart stutter. “Good question.”

“Other than playing here as a kid, I don’t have any connection to the place. But I loved it.”

“Maybe that’s all it takes,” Cole said. “To just love a place. Isn’t that the gospel, ‘For God so loved us’?”

“But is it about the place or the people who will come here? The brides?”

“I think you’re on to something.” He crouched down in front of her, his blue eyes searching hers. “I-I was . . .” He stopped, clearing the catch from his voice. “Would you like to come to the house tonight, eat pizza, watch a movie?”

Her skin flamed with the intimacy of his voice, of his question. “Are you asking me on a date?”

He grinned, glancing down, brushing at something imaginary on the floor. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Wow, okay, well . . .” But he’d been Tammy’s, even though in the end they had broken their engagement. Haley was nothing like her. “Cole, I’m not Tammy.”

“I know.”

“You realize you’re asking out Haley Morgan.”

“Pretty sure I do.” His blue gaze watched her for a long moment. “Is it too weird?”

“No, I’m just surprised.”

He laughed and dropped down to the floor, resting his forearms on his raised knees. “I’ve known you twenty-some odd years, but I’m not sure I ever got to know you. Tammy or one of your brothers was always around. Except for that night we stayed up talking.”

“Yea . . .”

“I like the woman I’m getting to know.”

“Cole, you should know there’s a Haley you don’t know. One who made some pretty dark choices in her life.”

“Like that guy? Dax Mills? The one from the other day?”

“Yes. You recognized him? Is that why you stopped?” Dax would be thrilled to know someone recognized him on the street. At one point, Haley thought it was his only true goal in life.

“I recognized him. Used to work out to one of his videos. But I stopped at the shop because you looked upset.”

“You saw I was upset from the street?”

He shrugged. “Is that a crime? So how do you know Dax?”

No, not at all. “We were in a relationship.”

“Ah.” Cole thought for a moment. “Isn’t he married?”

He was getting the picture without Haley coloring in all the numbers. “Do you still want to have pizza with me?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m no saint, Haley. Are things over between you two?”

“For me, yes. But he seems to think he can drop in on my life anytime he wants, tell me what to do.”

“All right, then pizza and a movie at my place. Six?”

“You sure?”

He regarded her for a long blue moment. “I’m sure, but if you’re not—”

“I’m game. Hey, if it creeps us both out, then we call it a fun experiment.”

“Deal.” He stuck out his hand. When Haley slipped her hand into his, the same sensation washed over her as the first night they talked. On the shop porch. Gentle, warm, her cares falling from her shoulders.

“But, Cole, you should know, I’m not looking for a relationship.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back. Her confession was presumptuous. Rude. And cast a shadow on Cole’s otherwise light countenance.

“It’s pizza and a movie, Haley.” He started for the door. “Not a marriage proposal.”

“Right.” Was he mad? “Six o’clock?”

He paused at the door, his smile wide, forgiving. And she felt its energy all the way to her toes. “Don’t be late.”