Small Town Charm Read online

  Small Town Charm

  Carolyn Brown

  New York Boston

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by Carolyn Brown

  Cover design by Sarah Congdon. Photos © Shutterstock Cover copyright © by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Forever Yours

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104

  read-forever.com

  twitter.com/readforeverpub

  First Ebook Edition: July 2021

  Forever Yours is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever Yours name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  The Hachette Speakers Bureau provides a wide range of authors for speaking events. To find out more, go to www.hachettespeakersbureau.com or call (866) 376-6591.

  ISBN: 978-1-5387-0111-9 (ebook)

  E3-20210512-DA-NF-ORI

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Discover More

  An excerpt from SECOND CHANCE AT SUNFLOWER RANCH

  High Praise for Carolyn Brown

  Also by Carolyn Brown

  About the Author

  Looking for more small-town charm and romance? Check out these swoon worthy novellas from Forever!

  Explore book giveaways, sneak peeks, deals, and more.

  Tap here to learn more.

  Chapter One

  If the punishment for being a curvy woman was being sent to live in a big city, then Cricket Lawson would have had to make peace with her maker, because she would surely die if she ever had to move from Bloom, Texas. She’d always been slightly overweight, and she’d tried to lose weight more times than she could count on her fingers and toes. Then she’d come to the realization that diet was a four-letter word—and those were a sin to think or even say out loud.

  The thermometer on her porch said it was past ninety degrees, so when she got home from working all day in her secondhand bookstore, Cricket changed into a pair of cutoff jeans and a chambray shirt, which she tied up under her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. For the past two days Bloom, Texas, had had rain, rain, and more rain, so she kicked off her shoes at the edge of the garden and waded out in the mud in her bare feet. No one else was within a mile of the huge vegetable garden where Cricket picked tomatoes and beans that hot evening.

  “Romeo,” was blasting through her MP3 player, and Cricket sang right along with Dolly Parton. When Billy Ray Cyrus began to sing his part in the song, she did a few line-dance steps. Mud flew up and stuck on the backs of her legs, but she didn’t care. She lived so far out of town that no one could see her. If they could, it would sure enough give everyone in the town something to talk about.

  She put her hands on her knees and did a little twerking. “That would really set their tongues a waggin’,” she giggled. “Someday, my Romeo will come along, and he’ll sweep me right off my feet, but the way I look right now, I hope it’s not today.”

  It seemed like an omen when the next song on her player was “Something to Talk About.” Holding a cucumber as a microphone, she sang along with Bonnie Raitt and danced around a half-bushel basket almost full of green beans. She’d just finished doing a little two-step with an imaginary partner when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.

  Her brother Rick and sister-in-law had just taken their two kids on a vacation to the beach the day before and wouldn’t be home for two weeks, so it couldn’t be either of them. She whipped around too fast, slipped in the mud, and fell flat on her butt. Dirty water splashed all the way up her bare midriff and across her arms. She didn’t even try to get up but just sat there and stared at the man standing at the edge of the garden.

  “Hello, I’m Bryce Walton,” he said. “Were you practicing for a country music video?”

  “No, I’m taking a mud bath,” she snapped at him. “What are you doing on my property?”

  “Lettie gave me your phone number, but there was no answer when I called. She gave me the directions out here and told me you could sell me some fresh vegetables,” Bryce explained.

  “How do you know Lettie?” Cricket’s tone softened a little.

  “I bought the Bloom Pharmacy,” Bryce said. “Today was my first day to work, and I’m renting Lettie and Nadine’s garage apartment until I can find something to buy. Do I need to give you a résumé to buy okra and tomatoes?”

  Cricket knew that the pharmacy had sold—everyone in Bloom knew that two hours after the papers were signed. But she hadn’t expected the new pharmacist to be so young—or so tall. She’d thought he’d be middle aged, bald, and wearing bifocals perched on the end of his nose. Lettie had told her that he’d moved into the apartment, but Cricket was so busy that she hadn’t even gone to the pharmacy to get her daily limeade that day. Now she wished she had.

  Bryce had clear blue eyes, a full head of dark hair, and was probably about her age of thirty-one. He wasn’t muscled up like a weightlifter, and maybe looked a little soft in his belly, but all in all, he was a good-looking guy.

  “I’m Cricket Lawson. I’d shake hands, but I don’t think you want a fistful of mud.” She got to her feet and made her way out of the garden. She picked up the water hose, sprayed the mud off her body, and then asked, “How much okra and how many tomatoes do you want?”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Bryce said. “I’d like a basket of each if you have them. I hear that you own the Sweet Seconds Book Store right next to my pharmacy, and that you usually have fresh produce in that store.”

  Cricket vowed that she would carry her phone in her pocket from then on, even if she had to put it in a Ziploc baggie. Lettie and Nadine were her good friends and gossip gals. No doubt, they had tried to call her several times that evening to tell her about Bryce coming out to her little farm. Bless their hearts, they were always trying to fix her up with someone, and she kept telling them that she was going to grow up and be like both of them—old maids who kept track of everything that went on in Bloom.

  “I’ve got plenty,” she answered. “There’s a little more than a pound in each basket. Do you want big boy tomatoes or the small cherry tomatoes? And yes, I own the bookstore, and I sell produce as well as used books. Do you like to read?”

  “Every chance I get.” Bryce’s smile lit up his whole face. “I’ll be over to visit your store as soon as I can. And I’d like the small tomatoes, please.”

  “What I’ve got gathered is in the house. Wait right here, and I’ll bring them out to you.” She walked past him and glanced up at his wide shoulders. Yep, the man was at least six feet, four inches tall—maybe even a little more than that. Cricket was only three inches over five
feet and she barely came to his shoulder. She predicted that there would be a lot of sick women in Bloom in the next few weeks—especially those who were single or divorced. She could just imagine them lined up waiting to get prescriptions filled, or to buy bottles of aspirin, or even to get a soft drink or limeade at the soda fountain. The barstools in front of the counter wouldn’t get cold with one woman sliding onto one the moment another left.

  “I’ll be right here,” Bryce said.

  If Lettie and Nadine liked him enough to give him her cell phone number, then Cricket thought she should invite him in, maybe even for a glass of sweet tea. But if she did that and he mentioned it in town, the gossip vine would burst into flames. She could hear the clucking from the old women’s tongues, sounding like mother hens gathering in their baby peeps before a storm, as they pitied her for trying to latch on to a man like Bryce. No, ma’am! Cricket didn’t need or want anyone to feel sorry for her.

  Besides that, everything she’d worn to work that day was hung over the back of kitchen chairs, including her bra and underpants. She’d taken them off in a hurry and changed into what she called her work clothes—an old bra, a shirt she could tie up under her breasts, and a pair of cutoff jeans. She couldn’t bring a good-looking man like Bryce into her house to a sight like that, much less to sit down at the table with him for a glass of sweet tea with mud caked in her hair.

  “Some days you win,” she muttered as she picked up a basket of okra and piled a few more pods on the top. “Most days you lose.” She added half a dozen more tomatoes to that basket.

  The phone rang as she was walking out the back door, but she ignored it. If anyone found out that she hadn’t answered her phone, the news would probably make the Bloom Weekly News under the HEARD column on the front page. She could see the little article already:

  Cricket Lawson did not answer her phone. The whole town is wondering if she is sick, and several church ladies are preparing casseroles to take to her.

  Everyone in Bloom knew that Cricket liked gossip too well not to answer a call if she was within hearing distance of the ring. Why on earth she’d forgotten to tuck her phone in her hip pocket was a mystery.

  “Nice garden you’ve got here.” Bryce had walked down to the end of the plot and was on his way back toward the house. “How do you work full time and take care of this too?”

  “My brother Rick does most of the work, but he and his family are on a two-week vacation, so I’m doing double time while he’s gone.” She set the okra and tomatoes on the porch. “At least, it rained a lot this week, so I didn’t have to water.”

  Bryce made it to the porch and pulled out his wallet. “I’m surprised that you’ve still got a crop as hot as it’s been. How much do I owe you?”

  “Consider those two baskets your welcome to Bloom present,” she said.

  “Well, then thank you very much. I plan to make a skillet full of fried okra tonight to go with my pork chops.” Bryce picked up the vegetables. “What time do you close the bookstore, so I’ll know next time I want fresh produce to get on over there and buy it?”

  “We’re open until six Monday through Friday and from nine to noon on Saturday, but you are always welcome to come out here and get veggies,” she answered.

  Was he lingering? she wondered.

  Of course he is, that pesky voice in her head told her. He’s just moved to town. He doesn’t know anyone, and he’s going home to eat alone tonight.

  “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow when you come in for a limeade.” Bryce started for his vehicle that was parked next to her car in the driveway. “The ladies at the store told me you like limeades. I’m not psychic!”

  “I’ll be there,” she called out.

  He got into his SUV and stuck his hand out the window and waved.

  She hurried into the house and grabbed her phone from the table. There were ten messages from Lettie and five missed calls from Nadine. She plopped down into a chair and scrolled through her contacts until she found Nadine Betterton and called her first.

  Nadine answered on the first ring, but instead of saying hello, she started fussing. “Where have you been? I was about to get in the car and drive out there. You’re never without your phone.”

  “You haven’t been allowed to drive in years, and I was in such a hurry to get to the garden that I forgot to take my phone with me,” Cricket told her.

  “We’ve got the phone on speaker. You’ve got me too, and I was worried about you, girl,” Lettie yelled.

  Cricket had repeatedly told them that they should just talk in a normal voice, but they both thought they had to raise their voices when they had it on speaker.

  “Did Bryce Walton come out there for okra and tomatoes? Is he still there?” Nadine asked.

  “What did you think of him?” Lettie butted in before Nadine had finished the last word.

  “He seemed nice enough,” Cricket answered.

  “We’re inviting him to Nadine’s birthday party Thursday night,” Lettie said. “After all, he lives in our apartment building, and that way he can meet some folks. Did you know that he loves books?”

  “He mentioned that he likes to read,” Cricket said, and then went on to tell them about falling in the mud.

  “He must think you are beautiful if he asked if you were making a video for television,” Nadine said.

  “Or he was being sarcastic,” Cricket told them.

  “If he was and I find out about it, he won’t be invited to my party.” Nadine’s voice rose even higher.

  “Wouldn’t Jennie Sue and Rick be happy if they came home to find you in a relationship?” Lettie sighed.

  “Hey, they’re only going to be gone a couple of weeks,” Cricket said. “I just met the guy tonight, and he could be engaged or already in a relationship.”

  “Nope, he’s not. I asked him if his girlfriend would be coming to see him or maybe moving to Bloom, and he said he didn’t have a girlfriend,” Lettie informed her.

  Cricket’s heart threw in an extra beat, but she scolded herself. “Bryce Walton is way out of my league, Miz Lettie. He’s educated, downright handsome, and he’s a pharmacist for cryin’ out loud.”

  “Bull crap,” Lettie argued.

  “Well, let me tell you…” Nadine lowered her voice to her gossip tone. “Mary Lou Cramer has already let it be known that her daughter, Anna Grace, will be married to Bryce by Christmas. She even sent an ivy plant to the drugstore today as a welcoming gift from the Cramer Oil Company, and then a peace lily arrived from the Sweetwater Belles. It would be a feather in Mary Lou’s cap to have a pharmacist in the family. Why, Anna Grace, might even get elected to be the president of the Sweetwater Belles Club if she could snag Bryce. Sugar Denton is grooming her daughter, Laura Lee, to step into the president’s place of their fancy little elite club, but she’s only married to the CEO of her daddy’s construction firm.”

  Anna Grace, like most of the daughters of the charter members of the Belles, had been a cheerleader in high school, but she had risen even further on the social ladder because she had been elected homecoming queen and still got to ride in the parade every year. She had gone on to college, joined a sorority, and then come home to work in her daddy’s oil business. She was thirty-one now, and her mother, Mary Lou, made no bones about the fact that it was time for Anna Grace to settle down. What Mary Lou wanted, she got—plain and simple.

  “Think a pharmacist is good enough for Anna Grace?” Cricket asked. “A couple of weeks ago, I heard her telling Jennie Sue at the café that she had been dating a dentist, but she really wanted to marry a doctor.”

  “Her mama seems to think that a pharmacist would be just fine. I heard through the grapevine that she was already looking at wedding venues,” Lettie whispered.

  “Good Lord!” Cricket gasped. “Bryce just took over the pharmacy today!”

  “Yep, but when a good-lookin’ bachelor comes to town, you can expect Mary Lou to try to snag him for her daughter. She would like to have
grandkids before she’s ninety,” Lettie said.

  “So would we,” Nadine sighed.

  “You’ve got Jennie Sue and Rick’s two daughters,” Cricket reminded them.

  Even though neither Lettie nor Nadine had ever married or had children, they had been surrogate grandmothers to Cricket’s two nieces. They had taken Jennie Sue under their wing when she came back to town six years ago, and Cricket couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t her friends.

  “But we want a grandson,” Lettie said. “And your biological clock is ticking, girl.”

  “Then you’d better adopt Anna Grace,” Cricket said.

  “We’ll do without before we do that,” Lettie declared. “She looks down her nose at me and Nadine like we’re aliens.”

  “We ain’t Sweetwater Belles.” Cricket steered Lettie away from the alien subject. Aliens got the blame for everything in her life. If she lost her car keys, then the aliens stole them. If she burned a pan of biscuits, then the aliens had abducted her for a few minutes, and it was their fault. “If you ain’t a Belle, then Anna Grace doesn’t waste her breath speaking to you.”

  “That’s the truth,” Nadine agreed. “I’m so glad that Jennie Sue told them to go to hell after her mama and daddy died.”

  Cricket giggled. “I’m not sure she said it just like that, but they sure knew what she meant. I was there when the Belles all came to the house after Charlotte and Dill died in the plane crash. I’d always thought I wanted to be in that crowd, but good glory! I learned real quick that I’d rather be pickin’ beans as puttin’ up with those women. That reminds me. I’ve got a bushel of beans and a bucket of tomatoes that I need to bring in and wash, and I’m still covered with mud.”

  “Go on then,” Nadine said. “We’ll be in town tomorrow, so we’ll stop by the bookstore. I’ve still got a chapter of The Great Gatsby to read before we come to the book club meeting next Monday.”

  “I’ll bring the cookies to club that night,” Lettie offered. “I know you’re super busy since Jennie Sue and Rick are off on their vacation.”