Trusting The Cowboy

She had quickly gotten her groceries, and instead of waiting, had come into the greenhouse, which was right beside the grocery store.

And then she met Nadine, and here she was, eight pots and seven twelve-packs of flowers later. Helping her aunt in her flower shop had given Lauren some knowledge. Though she knew little about bedding out plants and perennials, she was learning.

She shot a quick glance at her watch. Vic had said he would meet her in front of the store at two. It was only one forty-five.

“They come in white, as well,” Nadine said. “Just think how nice they could look together. A cluster of white in the middle of a bunch of pink. You’d have to buy more than one white, though.”

“You’re bad for my wallet, girl,” Lauren chided as she picked up the tag attached to the plant Nadine had pointed out. It showed a large white six-petaled flower with ruffled edges. She was imagining them in the rock garden that edged the deck. Neither she nor her sisters had met their father’s mother who, apparently, was an avid gardener when she lived on the ranch.

Lauren’s mother had never been interested in gardening, and when Lauren and her sisters had visited the ranch, they’d been too young to care.

“Did you get your grocery shopping done?”

The deep voice behind her made her jump and Lauren spun around to see Vic standing there, thumbs hanging above the large buckle of his belt. He had rolled up the sleeves of his stained twill shirt, the hat pulled over his head now tipped to one side.

His mouth curved in a laconic smile, but she easily saw the warmth of his eyes.

She swallowed, frustrated again at the effect this man had on her.

“Yes. I put the bags close to the entrance,” she said. “One of the cashiers said she would watch them for me.”

“They’re in the truck already,” he said, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Sonja told me you were in here and that you’d left her in charge of your food.”

She had felt strange enough leaving her groceries with the chatty woman at the front desk who assured her she wouldn’t eat her food. But then to have Vic simply load them in the truck?

“Everyone knows everyone in Saddlebank and even worse, everyone’s business,” he said, his grin deepening. “Am I right, Nadine?” he asked the greenhouse clerk, winking at her.

The girl blushed, looking down at the pot she still held, turning it over. “Yeah. Well. That’s Saddlebank.” She gave Vic another shy glance, her flush growing.

Nice to know she wasn’t the only one he had this effect on, Lauren thought, reminding herself to stay on task. To keep her focus.

You have your own plans. He’s just a hindrance and a distraction.

A good-looking distraction, she conceded, but a distraction nonetheless.

“So what do you all have here?” he asked, pointing to the plants.

“Gerberas, lilies, petunias, some marigolds. Lobelia, geraniums and million bells—”

“Gotcha,” he said, holding his hands up as if to stop her, looking somewhat overwhelmed. “Do you need help packing these up?”

Lauren glanced from the wagon holding the flowers she had chosen to the rest of the greenhouse. She could spend another hour wandering, planning and dreaming, but she had taken up enough of Vic’s time and she knew he was anxious to get back to work.

“I have to pay for them first,” she said. She turned the cart around and walked down the wooden aisles to the checkout counter.

But her feet slowed as she passed a preplanted pot of pink and purple million bells, white lobelia, trailing sweet potato vine and yellow aspermums. She pinched off a dead flower, her hand arranging the one vine.

“That’s pretty,” Vic said, his voice holding a note of approval.

“I love the colors they’ve used. It would look lovely on a deck.” Then she pulled her hand back, knowing that she had already spent more than she should, and marched on, resisting the temptation.

She got to the cashier, unloaded her plants on the old wooden counter, pulled her debit card out of her wallet and slapped it on the counter as if afraid her more practical self would convince her it was a waste of money.

“You’ve got some lovely plants.” Sonja bustled about as she rang them up on the old-fashioned cash register, her gray curls bouncing. She was an older woman, with a rough voice and a broad smile. Her T-shirt proclaimed Life’s a Garden. Dig It. “If you need any help or advice, you just call. We can answer all your questions. ’Course, you have your aunt to help you out. I know you used to help her at the flower shop from time to time,” she said.

“I’m sorry, I feel like I should remember you,” Lauren said.

“I used to deliver perennial pots to your aunt’s shop,” Sonja said. “Used to see you and your sisters there once in a while.”

Then Lauren did remember. Sonja was always laughing and joking, her personality filling the store, making it a fun and happy place to be.

But before Lauren could say anything, Sonja was finished with her and already on to the next customer. Lauren looked around for Vic, doing a double take as she realized he was purchasing the pot she had just admired.

“Figured if you liked it, so would my mom,” he said as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Your mother will love them.” Sonja rang up his purchase, smiling her approval. “Very considerate of you.”

“I’m angling for son of the year,” Vic said.

“And he’ll get it, don’t you think, Lauren?”

“I guess” was all Lauren could muster. She was still wrapping her head around a guy buying a potted plant for his mother.

“Our Vic is an amazing young man,” Sonja said, her voice heavy with meaning. She gave Lauren a knowing look that she didn’t have to interpret. “A girl would be lucky to have him.”

“I think it’s time to load up what we got and get out of here,” Vic cut in with a sheepish smile as he set the pot he’d just bought on the two-layered cart holding Lauren’s plants.

“You know I’m right,” Sonja teased, looking from Vic to Lauren as if connecting the two. “You won’t find better in all of Saddlebank.”

“Now it’s really time to go,” Vic said, ushering Lauren out of the store. His truck was right out the door and he opened the back door of the double cab. “If it’s okay with you, I thought we could set them here,” he said as he started unloading them.

“But you’ll get the floor of your truck dirty,” Lauren protested. The carpet was immaculately clean and the seats even more so.

“It’s honest dirt,” he said, tossing her a grin as he took the pots from her and set them on the carpet. “Sorry about Sonja, by the way. She’s the local busybody.”

“I remember her coming into my aunt’s flower shop,” Lauren said. Sonja’s comment had made her even more aware of Vic than she liked. “She was like this ball of energy.”

“That about sums her up.” He got into the truck. “Do you need to do anything else?”

“I think I’ve taken enough of your time and spent enough of my money. I know you want to get back to your hay baling.”

“Yeah. I do. Thanks.”

A few minutes later they were back on the highway, headed toward the ranch. Lauren’s groceries were stashed on the floor of the truck by her feet.

“By the way, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of the tires,” Lauren said. “But shouldn’t we have stopped to pay for them?”

“You can next time you’re in town. I talked to Alan, who runs the place. He said it was okay.”