Sweet Tibby Mack

“Ha! I’m raving about the dozen roses you sent that…that…funky…person, when you’ve never sent me so much as a carnation.”

Cole stared at her. “You told me flowers make you sneeze. That’s why I haven’t sent.you any. But I haven’t sent them to anyone else, either.”

“Ha!”

“Will you quit saying that?”

“Don’t lie to me, Cole. I read the card. Some drivel about how you’re sorry and would she please forgive you. I could hardly miss it. She left it on the counter for the whole world to see. What are you sorry for, I’d like to know?”

“She who?” Cole reached for Cicely, but she pushed him away.

“That woman at the country store. The one wearing the kiddy braid and sweet-as-apple-pie smile. That she who.”

“Tibby?”

“If that’s her name, yes.” Cicely sniffed and inspected her nails.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you saw. I swear I did not send her flowers. We’ll go over there right now and get to the bottom of this.”

“You go. Get the card. I’d like to hear you explain how your name got on it.”

“All right, I will. I’ve opened a bottle of wine. Help yourself. Relax. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.” Cole steered her to the kitchen, where he pointed out the wine.

“Ha!”

Since she insisted on sounding like a broken record, he stalked out the back door, past the table he’d so carefully set and down the back steps. At the trailhead, he met Winnie Toliver. She clutched a crystal bowl full of green salad. Probably on her way to a potluck. Joe had mentioned that the residents held quite a few. Cole would have passed her with a brief greeting, except that Winnie grabbed his shirtsleeve.

“I hear you have a dinner guest, Cole. Shame on you for not telling us sooner. A man entertaining a lady shouldn’t have to cook. I’ll just leave this salad on your counter, shall I? Henrietta’s making you manicotti. Rosamond promised a dessert to die for. If you’re on your way to the store, pick up a nice bottle of red wine. A fullbodied red goes best with pasta.”

Cole started to object. Then he held his tongue. He didn’t know how long this mission would take. It’d be nice not to have to cook dinner and spend the time pacifying Cicely, instead. Smiling, he capitulated. “Thanks. Her name’s Cicely. I’d appreciate it if you made her feel welcome. I want her to like it here, if you get my drift.”

Winnie squeezed his arm. “You can count on me and the girls to explain the ins and outs of Yaqui Springs. Oh, and Cole—take your time. It’s better not to rush girl talk, if you get my drift.”

Feeling better, Cole watched her disappear down the path. He thrust his hands in his pockets and whistled softly as he sauntered toward Tibby’s store.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_8d5000ad-38c4-5556-bbd8-bbdc2a37e1d7)

WINNIE RAPPED SMARTLY on Cole’s back door before breezing into his kitchen. “Hi,” she said, setting her dish on the counter next to a surprised Cicely. “I’m Winnie Toliver, one of Cole’s neighbors. He’s such a dear. Everyone here thinks so. We’re delighted that he’s decided to come live in his grandfather’s house.”

“Live here? Cole?” Cicely plunked her wineglass down next to the bottle. “Oh, no. It’s far too remote. He has a nice condo just blocks from Wilshire.”

Winnie looked properly sympathetic. “It’s not so bad once you learn how to cope with the heat, mosquitoes and such. I see Cole set a romantic table for two out on his screened porch. I hope he remembered to spray for scorpions. The house has been closed up since his grandfather died. Where is the dear boy?”

Cicely’s mouth opened and closed like a fish taking bait. “Out,” she managed before another loud knock precluded anything else she might have said.

Henrietta Feeny bustled though the door and set a steaming pasta casserole and a foil-wrapped package of bread on the stove. “So you’re Cicely,” she gushed. “Welcome to Yaqui Springs. Any friend of Cole’s is automatically a friend of ours.” She nudged Winnie. “I see we have our work cut out to fatten this young lady up. Ah, here’s the very person to add those calories. Our Rosamond.” Henrietta beamed at Cicely. “I don’t know what decadent delight she’s brought, but knowing Rosie there’ll be at least a thousand calories per bite. Would you believe? All of us were once as skinny as you.” She patted her ample girth.

Winnie opened the screen. “Four-layer raspberry torte. Rosie, you outdid yourself. Here, let me put it in the fridge. I’ll pop the salad in to cool, too.”

Rosamond waved the rich confection under Cicely’s nose as Winnie made room on the top shelf. Closing the refrigerator gently, Rosamond introduced herself, then said she had to run. “If you don’t mind, I’ll leave by the front door. I remember Yale—that’s Cole’s granddaddy,” she clarified for Cicely. “Yale had problems with rattlers nesting under his rear steps. Some say it’s too early in the season, but I’m a total basket case when it comes to snakes. Have a good visit, Cicely. We’ll see more of you, I’m sure.”

“Hi, everyone.” Justine Banks barged in without knocking. “Sorry to be so late. Rosie, don’t rush off. We can all walk out together.” Justine let the screen slam behind her as she thrust a tray of hors d’oeuvres into Cicely’s bejeweled hands. “Oh,” she said, catching hold of the younger woman’s fingers. “Those rings are pretty. And matching earrings.” She touched the hoops. “Dear me, Winnie, I hope someone warned her to put her jewelry in a safe place tonight.”

Cicely snatched her fingers back so fast she almost dropped the tray. “Safe? Safe from what?” Her eyes glazed a little.

Justine pursed her lips as she rescued the tray and made room for her quiche puffs on the shelf below Winnie’s salad. “Pack rats, lovey.” She closed the fridge door decisively. “Yale had quite a time—the little thieves. Clever they are. Carted away an expensive watch, a ring and one money clip that I know of. But Yale was so forgetful. You’ll be fine as long as you remember to keep everything shiny put away.”

The women pressed close to Cicely, all nodding and smiling.

Winnie snapped her fingers. “I believe this welcoming mission has served its purpose. Come, ladies, we don’t want to intrude. Cole will show up soon.”

“I’m sure he will,” said Justine. “I passed him going into the store. In addition to the chives I needed, I found the item you requested, Winnie.” Justine discreetly tucked a small white card into Winnie’s pocket. Two pair of twinkling eyes met.

Cicely teetered beneath the arch as the women started for the front door. She twisted her bracelets nervously, peering into shadowy corners. “Please, will you wait a minute? I just remembered a prior engagement at home. Let me leave Cole a note. Then I’ll walk with you to my car.

“You’re not staying?” Winnie pretended shock. The others tsked softly until their leader spoke again. “Well, if you must go, you must. Poor Cole will be so disappointed. I vote we leave him the food to compensate.”

Everyone agreed it was only fair.

THE MINUTE COLE STEPPED into Tibby’s store, he saw the roses he’d supposedly sent. The bouquet was gaudy in his estimation. Not at all like what he’d choose. Small buds in soft pink would be his preference.

Bending to inspect the flowers more closely, Cole jumped back when a menacing growl raised the hair on the back of his neck. A dog—a humungous beast—trotted around the corner of the counter, teeth bared.

“Good boy. Where’d you come from?” Cole knelt down slowly and stretched out a hand. He liked animals, although he’d never been in a position to own one. Another thing he’d do if he sank roots in Yaqui Springs—get an Irish setter.

The dog edged closer and sniffed. Cole scratched him between the sleek pointed ears. A pink tongue lapped at his wrist, and the long curved tail wagged.

Tibby backed out of her storeroom, arms laden with jars of honey. Seeing Cole making overtures to her dog sent a stab of hunger to her heart and a blast of fire to her cheeks. “Exterminator,” she hissed, “fine guard dog you are. Bring a burglar in and show him the silver.”

“This bruiser is yours?” Cole failed to conceal his surprise.

“Yes. I plan to teach him to attack on command. Come here,” she ordered, and was greatly relieved when the dog left Cole’s side to flop at her feet, his nose tucked between his paws.

“The store is closed. I assumed Justine would lock up on her way out. But maybe she saw you heading this way. I usually try to accommodate residents. If you don’t mind, I’ll shelve these jars while you find what you need.”

“I came about the roses.”

Tibby stammered slightly. “Oh. A-and I didn’t even thank you. Um, I guess we both flew off the handle this morning. The bouquet is gorgeous, Cole. Really, though, I never meant for you to drive all the way to Brawley for your groceries.”

Every line and feature of her expressive face softened when she gazed at those damned flowers. Cole wished he had ordered them, the change in her was so radical. And…she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “I, ah, didn’t send the roses.”

He glanced away from the embarrassment that quickly replaced the pleasure in her eyes. “The first I heard of them was from Cicely. She’s upset. Do you mind if I take a look at the card?”

“Help yourself. But…I don’t understand. If you didn’t send them, who did? And why would anyone use your name?”

“I don’t know. But the florist does.”

“They came from Brawley.” Visibly shaken, Tibby thumped the jars of honey down on the counter.