3

Grace gazed at Mandy Battle and Shana Wilkins, the two girls Aunt Tilja had on the books, and she’d re-employed. She shouldn’t feel pride in her work, but she did. It bubbled up and spilled over. “I did it.” She stood back from the arrangement.

Mandy laughed. “Yeah, boss. On the seventh attempt.”

Grace laughed with her. “Way to go to take the joy out of something. Could have been way worse.”

The three of them had hit it off instantly and a week on were functioning as a team. Word of mouth had brought the customers back to the shop. The Internet side was also working well, and Grace was hopeful of at least breaking even in her first month. OK, she’d only been here a week, and it was January, but people always needed flowers.

She’d even gotten a standing order for flowers every day from David Painter. He said he needed twenty daffodils first thing every morning. Fortunately she'd been able to find them, which pleased him and made him her first regular customer. Either he or his sister, Hanna, came in to pick them up, usually before ten o’clock.

Grace just wished she could get Elliott out of her mind. He came over every morning with coffee, a smile, and an invitation to church. But when she’d pass him later in the day, or see him going in or out of the house, she’d wave or say hi, and only get a blank stare.

Maybe he really did have a split personality and only wanted to be friendly sometimes. Either way, she just wished he’d make up his mind and either speak to her constantly or ignore her. It’d be far easier on both of them if he did.

Grace tied the ribbon around the base of the bouquet and glanced up at the others. “You know what would make this perfect?”

Shana nudged Mandy. “We do it?”

“No. Give it to the customer in a glass vase. The cellophane could go over the whole lot, and we package it in a box kept upright.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Mandy said. “Want me to look into it?”

“Sure.” Grace stood and laid the bouquet on the shelf. She adjusted the display. “I was thinking we could do other things along with the flowers. Teddies or something. Maybe chocolates or balloons as well. Something similar to what the bigger chains do.” The shelf moved slightly. “Don’t you even think about falling,” she warned it, waving a finger at the wall.

The shop door opened, the bell jangling at the same moment the shelf fell, sending the contents sliding to the floor. Grace grabbed the one end, dust and plaster covering her. “I told you not to do that,” she sighed.

“Oops,” said an all too familiar voice. Tanned hands grabbed the other end of the shelf. “What happened?”

Grace looked sideways at him. “As much as I love your visits, Elliott, your timing leaves a lot to be desired.”

“You mean you don’t wear dust and break things as a matter of course?” Elliott looked at her innocently, his eyes twinkling.

“Only around you. Do you wait for disaster to strike before you come over?”

“Every time.” He laughed, as he set the shelf on the floor and looked at the wall. His fingers traced the holes. “Easy to fix. You had the wrong fittings. You need plaster plugs not wall plugs. Give me two minutes. Drink this.”

Grace took the coffee. “Thank you.”

Mandy winked at him. “Maybe you should just bring your tools rather than bringing Grace coffee each morning, Mr. Wallac.”

“Don’t give him ideas.” Grace sipped the coffee.

Elliott laughed. “I’ll be right back.”

“I should pay you for the number of times you’ve said that. Never mind the amount of free labor I’ve been getting.” She watched him leave. Everything about him from the way he moved, to the way his clothes fitted, set her nerves aflame—and she had no idea why. She just wished they didn’t. Especially as half the time he acted like she either didn’t exist or he had no idea who she was.

However, she didn’t have time for a relationship, nor did she want one. The less she had to do with men, so called Christian men in particular, the better.

“He likes you,” Mandy told her from the desk.

“What gives you that idea?” Grace put the cup down.

“Numerous cups of coffee for one thing. And he’s always here, if he isn’t working.”

“He’s just being neighborly. So, going back to the business for a moment, can you look up teddies, vases, balloons, and chocolates, while you’re on the Internet?”

“Yes, boss.” The phone rang. “Carnation Street Florist. Sure, let me check the diary.” She covered the phone. “Grace, can we do a wedding on January twenty-eighth? Customer got let down, and they need someone fast?”

Grace shook her head at Mandy. “I don’t know. That’s three weeks.” Panic filled her. She had no idea how to do a formal bouquet. How could she commit to an entire wedding? “I…”

“We’ve done loads. We’ll help, show you what to do,” Shana said encouragingly. “Besides, there’s nothing like a wedding to advertise the business. We do it right and we’ll get heaps more orders.”

“OK. Book it in. I guess its buttonholes, corsages, table decorations, and so on, but make sure you get exact lists of what they want.”

Mandy grinned, shooting off a mock salute and turning back to the phone.

Once again, the bell rang. Elliott had returned, and he set down his tools. “Were you serious about paying me, Grace?”

She nodded, keeping the flippant response of why wouldn’t I be to herself. “Of course I was. Any other bloke would have billed me in triplicate by now.”

“Great. Then pay me in flowers. It’s my sister’s birthday today, and she loves carnations.”

Grace smiled. “One bunch of carnations coming up. I’ll make the arrangement in the back, keep out of your way.”

“Before you go…” Elliott’s voice made her turn back. “I was hoping you’d come to church this weekend.”

“I can’t, sorry.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll be busy working on the house. Why do you keep asking?”

His fingers paused over the box of plaster plugs. “Because I’m an elder.”

She tilted her head. “I can’t see any grey hair or wrinkles, so you can’t be that old.”

He winked. “Not that kind of an elder. So, why won’t you join us?”

“I haven’t been to church in years. Not since I left home and had a choice in the matter. Faith, my sister, has enough faith for the both of us, and it hasn’t gotten her anywhere.”

“It doesn’t work like that, and I think, deep down you know that.”

“Maybe…” Increasingly uncomfortable, Grace grabbed the bucket of carnations. Tears pricked her eyes. Why did her conscience have to kick in at the most inopportune moments? “Besides, I make it a rule, never to go to church with a man I hardly know. I’ll go do your flowers.”

In the workroom, Grace chose forty flowers in a mix of pink, white, and red and laid them onto the cellophane wrapping. She tried and failed to arrange them several times, before finally succeeding. She fastened the stems with an elastic band and rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. She really did need to stop crying at the drop of a hat. It was irksome and embarrassing.

Elliott came in, wiping his dusty hands on his jeans. “All done.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s a temporary fix; you’ll need new ones eventually.” He paused, his intent gaze not fooled by her attempt to hide her tears. “Are you all right?”

Grace sucked in a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’ve done your flowers.”

He crossed the room. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Grace, I never say anything I don’t mean.”

She sighed. “I’m an accountant not a florist. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not Aunt Tilja, yet here I am, living in her house, running her business…” She stopped herself. “Sorry, you don’t want to hear this. So, these new shelving units, you say I need. How much would they cost?”

“That depends what you want.”

“I have no idea, to be honest.”

He nodded. “OK. Well, the girls were chatting about your plans for this place as I repaired the old ones, so I was thinking. May I?” He pointed to the notebook on the side.

“Go for it.” Grace slid it across to him.

He drew rapidly, the detailed images coming to life under his long, tanned fingers. “How about this?”

She looked at the drawing and then up at him, amazed. “That’s brilliant. But it would cost way more than I can afford.”

He winked. “Nah.” He scrawled a price on the side of the paper. “Plus, a couple more bunches of carnations and that will cover it.” He held her gaze for a moment.

Grace looked at the piece of paper, trying to get her head around the low figure. Then she looked up. What was it Aunt Tilja said—never look a gift horse in the mouth? She smiled. “You’re hired. How long would it take?”

“They’ll be done by the end of the week. Bill will be due end of the month. I’m assuming you’d like me to do them?”

His boyish prompt made her laugh. “Yes, please, I would. Thank you.”

~*~

It was dark, and late, and Elliott had worked a full day on the building site, but he wanted to get this bit of the shelving unit finished. He’d promised Grace a few days, and that’s what he’d do. He ran his fingers over the surface of the wood. It was still a little rough, so he reached for the sandpaper.

The shelf reminded him that Grace was not quite the finished product that she was designed to be.

“What is it about her?”

“Huh?” He glanced up.

Joel stood in the doorway, leaning against the wood frame. “You’ve been distracted ever since you met the woman next door. Why is she so different?”

“There’s something about her, something lost. I…” He paused, wiping his sleeve across his brow. “She’s lost her faith. I’m not sure why, as she’s good at changing the subject. But I’m sure she used to love God as much as you and I do now.”

“So are you planning on killing her with kindness until she gives in and goes back to church?”

“Something like that.”

Joel pushed away from the wall and crossed over to him. “Caroline wants me to have Bradley this weekend. Is that OK?”

Elliott raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“She’s going away with Bryan and doesn’t want Bradley around. She’ll bring him down after school on Friday.”

“You should file for full custody.”

“I don’t have a house.”

“So buy one.”

“On what I earn? Yeah, right. Besides, I’m happy here.” He sighed. “I’m one story short for this book, and I’m out of ideas. And before you suggest going for a run, it’s raining.”

Elliott laughed. “You could always help me with this.”

Joel laughed with him. “Only if you want it lopsided.” Then, he sobered. “Be careful with your heart, El. Don’t give it to the wrong woman.”

“Not every woman is like your ex-wife, Joel. And, of course, we can have Bradley this weekend. We’ll take him to the match. I’ll book another ticket as soon as I’ve done this.”

Joel smiled. “He’ll like that, thank you. I’ll text Caroline back and let her know.”

He nodded and turned back to the shelves. “Some coffee would be good if you’re making some.”

“Sure. Coming right up.”

Elliott sanded the shelf harder than necessary.

What was it about Grace that drew him?

~*~

By Saturday morning, Grace was exhausted. She’d plastered all the fissures she could find in the bedroom and begun to strip the paper in the hallway. Only to find more cracks—some large enough to fit two fingers in. She’d filled them as well. In the remaining few minutes she had between closing and going over the accounts each evening, she barely had time to eat. She’d thought sitting behind a desk all day was tiring. Right now, her old desk looked very appealing.

She ran across the road to open the shop, in what seemed to be constant rain. Had it actually stopped since she moved in? Now that she paused to think, she didn’t think it had. She unlocked the door, shook the water from her coat, hung it out the back, and then checked the order book.

The bell signaled Shana and Mandy had arrived. “Morning.”

“Morning, boss,” they chorused. “How’s it going?”

“I just got here. We have that arrangement for the church and two deliveries to the hospital—one to maternity and one to the cardiac unit. Mandy, when you get a minute, can you contact the supplier and order the flowers for the wedding on the twenty-eighth, please?”

“Sure. I’ll do it soon as I’ve hung up my stuff.” She tilted her head. “Can we order uniforms, too?”

“Uniforms?”

“We’re the only flower shop in town without them. Just a t-shirt or something so I don’t have to stop and think each day what I’m going to wear. Not fussed about the color, but navy blue or pink. Not white.”

Shana laughed. “Not with the amount of water you manage to get down your top each day.”

“That’ll be a waterproof apron for Mandy.” Grace winked. “That’s a brilliant idea. Either pink or navy blue work. How about having the name of the shop and some flowers embroidered on about here?” She pointed to the left of her shirt.

“Design a logo,” came a familiar voice from the door. That man really did have impeccable timing. “That way you can update the sign outside, as well.”

Grace snorted. “I can’t draw to save my life. But I’ll ask my sister, Faith. In fact I’ll do it now.”

Elliott smiled and put the take out cup of coffee on the counter for her. “Am I going to be in the way if I fix those shelves up now? Only I’m out this afternoon.”

“That’s fine.” She dialed Faith’s number. “Going anywhere nice?”

“Football.”

“I’ll have to disagree with you on that one. Football and nice don’t exactly belong together—and definitely not in the same sentence.” The ends of her mouth tilted upward as his eyes widened.

“How can you not like football?” He gave a sad shake of his head and headed towards the door. “I’ll just bring them in.”

Grace returned to the phone as she heard her sister answer. “Hey, Faith, it’s me.”

“Hi, Grace. No, I still can’t work with flowers.”

She laughed. “I wasn’t going to mention that, but I do have a favor to ask.”

“Oh?”

“I need a new name and logo for the shop. And you draw way better than I do.”

“What’s wrong with the name?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a little corny.”

“Rubbish, the shop name is fine, called after the street it’s in. And it could be worse. I mean, the hairdresser that just opened here is called Curl Up and Dye. Then there’s the pawn shop called Rich Pickings. There’s a pie shop called Sweeney Todd, though why anyone wants to eat there is beyond me. The baker shop is called…”

“OK, OK, I get it. But I do want a logo. The girls want uniforms, and Elliott suggested a new sign outside.”

“Who’s Elliott?” Faith dropped the disinterested tone, and Grace could almost see her sister’s ears prick up.

“He’s the bloke next door, and he’s a builder. He’s here putting up my new shelves.”

“Uh huh.”

Grace turned her back on her grinning employees. “Don’t you uh huh me,” she hissed. “Can you do me a logo or not?”

“Sure. Hey, you could always rename the shop a Bunch of Fives instead of a bunch of flowers. Or sell coffee and pies on the side and call it Floral and Hearty.”

“OK, stop now before your jokes get any worse. We’ll stick to Carnation Street. How soon can you have it to me?”

“I’ll do it now and e-mail you something this afternoon. How’s that?”

“Brilliant, thank you. And bill me for your time, as well.”

“Oh, pssht. I’ll do no such thing. Home e-mail or work e-mail?”

“Work…oh yeah, you’re right, better not change the name because that will be wrong then. As will the website.”

“You have a website?”

“Kind of. It’s just a page at the moment, but I’m going to work on it. Give me something to do tomorrow.”

“You should go to church tomorrow, not be working,” Faith scolded her.

She sighed, turning as the bell over the door chimed. “Not you, as well. Honestly, you and Elliott both sing the same tune. I have to go, there’s a customer just come in. Speak soon. Bye.” She hung up and smiled at the customer. “Hi, can I help you?”

“I need to send some flowers to Scotland. Can you do that?”

Grace nodded. “Sure we can.” She reached under the counter and pulled out the book. “Did you have something special in mind?”

The girl shook her head. “It’s my mother’s birthday, and she loves flowers. But I’m a student, and I don’t have much money.”

Grace slid the book away, an idea forming in her mind. “In that case, what’s her favorite flower?”

“She loves carnations…”

Grace caught Elliott’s grin. “She’s not the only one. What’s your limit?”

“Fifteen pounds, but that has to include the postage as well.” The girl hopped from foot to foot looking convinced she was going to be sent away or laughed at.

What was it with the carnations? Grace didn’t need to think twice. “I can do you twenty carnations, including delivery for twelve fifty.”

Amazement covered the girl’s face. “Really?”

Grace nodded. “Really. Where in Scotland do they need to go?”

“Perth.”

“No problem. All I need is the address and message and we’re set.”

The girl gave the address. “Just put ‘Happy birthday Mum, from Ally’ on the card.” She handed over the money. “Thank you.”

Grace smiled. “You’re welcome. They’ll be there by four this afternoon.” She watched the girl leave the shop and pulled over the phone book for the number for the Perth florist.

Mandy looked at her. “You didn’t charge her delivery.”

“I know, but I was a student once.” She tossed Mandy the phone. “Do the order for me. I’ll pay the delivery myself.”

“You’re a good woman, Grace Chadwick,” Elliott said.

“Tell me that when I’m making a loss,” she quipped.

He chuckled. “I will do. So, will you come to church with me tomorrow?”

“You don’t give up do you?” She sighed. “I’m beginning to think this is a conspiracy. My sister said the same thing on the phone just now.”

Elliott grinned. “No conspiracy. Do your parents go?”

“Yeah, they all do.” The wind howled outside, sending rain pounding against the windows. The huge oak tree outside creaked. Grace shivered. “It’s really nasty out there. Does the sun ever shine here? It’s done nothing but rain since I moved in.”

“The sun does shine occasionally.” Elliott turned back to the shelves. “So, why did you stop going to services?”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Why are you so insistent on talking about church? Do you have nothing else to talk about?”

Shana laughed. “My dad’s the same. His favorite saying is C-h-space-space-c-h, what’s missing?”

Grace looked blankly at her.

“You are,” Elliott grinned. “C-h-u-r-c-h. Spells church.”

She shook her head. “My sister—it’s just hard to believe in an all-powerful, all-loving God when…” She broke off as the bell over the door rang. “Forget it.”

“No, I don’t want to forget it.” Elliott packed away his tools. “OK, I’m done here. Ladies, can you cope if I whisk your boss away for an early lunch?”

“Sure we can.” Shana grabbed Grace’s coat and handed it to her before Grace could even open her mouth to argue.

“It’s raining,” she managed.

“I’ve got an umbrella. And you have to eat at some point,” Elliott said firmly. “Come on. Besides, you did say you’d never go to church with someone you hardly know. So, now’s your chance to get to know me better, and I’m offering lunch. On me.”

“OK. I’ll go to lunch with you.” But that didn’t mean she had any intention of going to church, or that she trusted his motives. She slid into her coat and pulled the collar up. Glancing back at the two girls, she pointed a finger at them. “You two behave while I’m gone.”

~*~

She walked with Elliott through the park towards the High Street. Rain thudded against his umbrella. Puddles lined the path, and she gave up trying to avoid them. She’d simply dry her shoes when she got home tonight. “If I’d known this was going to happen, I’d have worn my boots this morning and not suede shoes.”

“Have to live in the moment,” he said, his smile brightening the gloomy weather. “Tell me about your sister. Didn’t you say Faith was a believer?”

“I meant my other sister, Hope.”

“Tilja never mentioned her.”

“No, she wouldn’t have. No one talks about Hope. She ran away when she was seventeen. We haven’t heard from her since, despite appeals and so on. Faith, on the other hand, is an artist and a believer. However, she’s mixed up with this bloke who hits her, well she won’t say so; she says all the bruises are accidents. I don’t believe her. He says he loves her, and she always falls for it; won’t hear a bad thing said about him. Rick, my brother, is a cop and puts his life on the line every time he goes to work—goes above and beyond the call of duty sometimes. Things kind of fell apart for everyone after Hope left.”

He glanced at her from under the umbrella. “Sounds to me like losing Hope made you lose a lot more than just hope. You lost your faith, too.”

“Ironic, isn’t it.” Water seeped into her shoes. “So, no, God doesn’t fit into my life in any shape or form. He saw to it that I lost one sister and could lose the other at any time.”

“You think He did it deliberately?”

“Maybe He did.” She shrugged. “Or maybe He just ignores me.”

“No, He doesn’t. He sees you.” Elliott folded the umbrella, as they reached the door to the café. “You just don’t see Him.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.” She pushed open the door, glancing up at the logo above the entranceway. A cup, saucer, and Bible with 3-16 across it.

Nice, catchy, hopefully Faith can do something similar.

She found a table and hung her coat over the back of the chair. Sitting down, she reached for the menu.

Elliott glanced at her as he sat. “There must be someone who had time for you, surely?”

“No. Well, Aunt Tilja did, maybe, but she’s gone now. Everyone else was worried about finding Hope or saving Faith from one mistake after another. But I’m simply, well to use my nickname, which I hate by the way, Amazing Grace—the person who can do anything she puts her mind to. Only I can’t.”

“Tilja must have thought so. Otherwise why leave you all she had? The shop, house, and so on.” He reached over the table and touched her hand, his fingers warm against her cold skin.

“She was wrong. I can’t do everything. I can’t do this for a start.”

“Don’t put yourself down. Look on this as a second chance. A chance to find both yourself and God.”

She held his gaze, wanting to jump into those clear blue eyes and drown. “Why would anyone want to find me? I’m no one, Elliott. No one important. I’m just—”

“You’re just Grace.” His tone was gentle, his gaze intense. “And Grace is important to a lot of people, even if they don’t show it. Come with me to church tomorrow, please. I’ll pick you up at ten. Or are you really intending to work?”

Torn, she hesitated. She did need to work on the website, and on the house. But this would be time with Elliot and part of her wanted that, while the other part of her wanted to run away as fast and as far as possible, because she was beginning to like him, and he wasn’t interested in her other than as a friend, no matter what Shana and Mandy said. “OK, I’ll come with you.” Grace pulled her hand back and turned her attention to the menu as the waitress appeared. “Can I have the salad and jacket spud, please? With a pot of tea.”

Elliott glanced up. “I’ll have the steak, chips, and peas, with coffee. Thank you.”

Grace slotted the menu back into the stand on the end of the table. “What time’s kickoff?”

“Three. I’m meeting Joel at two-thirty. Does anyone in your family like football?”

“Rick does. He’s at every game he can get to, work permitting.”

Elliott unfolded his serviette. “What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I don’t do anything. I work and sleep. That’s it. Really boring, actually. What about you?”

“I have my work, football. Joel and I play squash, badminton, tennis. And there’s church. That takes up a fair bit of time, too, but it’s not a chore.”

Of course it is. Grace sighed internally. Another reason not to get involved with him if he did ask. She didn’t fit into his lifestyle. And she didn’t want his God in her life either.