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Chapter One
Chrysanthemum ‘Chrissy’ Bloom’s daddy wasn’t a good businessman. Give him a patch of dirt or a greenhouse, and in months, it would be lush with flowers, thriving and smelling so sweet she could almost taste it. That was his talent. Keeping Bloom Flower Farm’s finances and books in good order was another thing altogether. Which led the Bloom family to their current problem.
Well, Chrissy’s problem.
No way was she going to let her mother know that the farm was barely making ends meet and the legacy she and her recently deceased husband had spent years building was about to disappear like a dandelion in a rough windstorm.
Chrissy got up and paced the small office. Was it luck that she had majored in accounting and business at college? Or was it a curse?
Luck. It was luck, because while things were dire, there was always hope when it came to turning numbers from looking bad to looking reasonable and, eventually, looking sensational.
It would take work and time, and fortunately, Chrissy had plenty of time. Pity she didn’t have plenty of money to make the troubles go away.
Or wishing her father hadn’t let his life insurance policy lapse so that after his unfortunate, and far too early, death, there would’ve been enough funds to make sure the farm could weather the regrowth the change in managership his death had brought.
His magical green thumb had definitely skipped Chrissy. She loved flowers every bit as much as everyone else in her family did. Loved the look of them. The brightness and joy they brought. But when it came to growing them, she sucked at it. Growing flowers didn’t bring her excitement and contentment like it brought her sister, Sunflower . . . or Sunny, as she liked to be known. Just like she preferred being called Chrissy than being addressed as Chrysanthemum. Her younger sister, Tilly, preferred her nickname to her given name of Tulip. The sisters were united on that front.
Her parents loved flowers so much they’d named their three girls after the varieties that meant something to them. Having unique names had been a nightmare at school and college for Chrissy and her sisters.
Chrissy sat back down and hoped that in her short five walks around the office, the numbers had changed. But sadly, they hadn’t.
How had Dad been able to keep things going?
It looked like her father hadn’t employed an accountant in the last few years and had done the taxes all himself. She’d have to look over them to make sure they’d been filed correctly. Which could give her another headache if they hadn’t been.
Had Dad sacked their accountant? And if so, why?
How had she not known this?
She’d been back home for nine months. While she hadn’t been working on the farm, she’d been living with her parents in their nicely finished basement, and there hadn’t been any signs that things were taking a turn for the worse.
Why hadn’t he come to her? Asked her for advice. It wouldn’t have taken her long to look things over, and together, they could’ve come up with a plan. If he had, then maybe she would’ve arranged for his life insurance policy to be renewed.
But he did call you, remember? Several times, in fact. You were always too busy to call back after saying you would.
The guilt slammed into Chrissy, but she ignored her conscience. Was that why he hadn’t taken her up on her offer to help when she asked him recently? Had he decided that because she hadn’t been there when he needed her, she wouldn’t be there now?
Dad had been a proud man, so asking for help from his daughter would’ve been hard, and she’d, for all intents and purposes, shunned him.
Why didn’t you ask for my help one more time, Dad? I was here. I could’ve done something.
Chrissy blew out a breath, as if that would chase away the shame billowing around her. It didn’t matter now as what ifs and why wouldn’t he didn’t make flowers grow and they certainly didn’t make money grow on trees.
The proceeds from the sale of their blooms to Sweet Pea Flowers, the local Marietta florist, and the ones they supplied in Bozeman, just covered the costs of the fertilizers, water, and electricity they needed to keep their plants thriving. A lot of the flowers on their farm were grown in greenhouses, due to the harsh Montana winters, which required climate-controlled systems, which weren’t cheap to run.
She had to be missing something. Was there another book which showed where Dad had been getting the money to maintain it all, and provide the family with the means to be able to buy groceries, gas, and pay essential bills?
Did Mom know? Dad tended to protect her from a lot of things. Was this one of them? He was a bit stuck in the past, not realizing the value of Mom’s opinion.
She loved her father deeply, but he was stubborn in his belief that he had to do everything himself. How Sunny was able to get him to let her help with the growing of the flowers was surprising, but her sister had proven over and over that she had the skills to keep the plants healthy.
And yet he had gotten over his stubbornness and had attempted to seek out her help. It was she who’d let him down. She who’d put him off. It didn’t matter that she was readjusting to her new normal after her divorce. She still should’ve made time to call home. She should’ve realized the only reason Dad would’ve reached out wasn’t that he wanted to discuss the weather, but because he had something serious to talk about.
Stop it. It’s happened. All that matters now is that I know and I can fix it. I must fix it. It’s partly my fault that things got this bad. I have to do what Dad would expect of me as the eldest. I must look after the family. I can’t give Mom any more to worry about.
Was she making assumptions that Mom didn’t know about the dire state of affairs and was actually aware of what was going on? Even though her dad tended to be a clamshell on occasions, Robert and Eunice Bloom had had a good marriage. A marriage where, Chrissy believed, they told each other everything. A marriage Chrissy had aspired to have, but sadly, her marriage to Beau hadn’t worked out like that.
Her hand itched to grab her cell phone and call her former husband to talk this out, but that wasn’t possible now. Like her father, Beau had died suddenly and left her adrift. Their marriage had long been over and they’d been living separate lives before they’d done anything about ending it. They’d been best friends, shared so much, but they’d mistaken friendship love for the type of love that was soul deep and lifelong. Their divorce had been finalized a few months before Beau’s death. It had been mutual and stress-free, and they’d remained good friends. So good that she had still been listed as the beneficiary of Beau’s life insurance. It wasn’t a huge amount of money, and she’d put it away for a rainy day.
Well, it appeared the rain had come, and while it wouldn’t solve everything, it would tide them over for a few months so that she could come up with a plan that would bring the flower farm out of the grips of bankruptcy and into solvency.
Planning was something she was good at. She could do this. She had no choice . . . she had to, especially if she wanted to ensure that her mother and sisters had a roof over their heads and could continue doing what they loved. Although Tilly didn’t live at home now and she tended to flit from one thing to another. Chrissy wasn’t going to think about her youngest sister and her short attention span right now. One day Tilly would find something that grabbed her attention and kept it there. After Tilly’s disastrously short time in Houston chasing another new job opportunity, she’d come home after just a few months, saying it hadn’t worked out. Chrissy hoped it would be soon that her baby sister found something she truly loved and not the data entry job she was currently doing. Nor working on the farm. Sunny was the only one of the three of them who truly loved being hands-on with the flowers.
“Hey, you’re looking glum. Is everything okay?”
Chrissy carefully closed the accounts books and smiled at her mom. “I’m good, just thinking about . . . ” She paused, trying to grab onto something to say that didn’t start with the farm’s in financial trouble. A flyer that sat on top of the mail she hadn’t gotten to yet caught her attention. “The upcoming rodeo. I was thinking of entering the barrel racing event.”
That had been the last thing on her mind, but now that she thought about it, it wasn’t a bad idea. In her youth she’d been a top barrel racer, winning just about every rodeo she’d entered. At one time she’d had dreams of following the rodeo circuit for a few years to earn enough money to pay for college, and once she’d graduated, find a good job close to Marietta and be debt free, so she could build a solid financial future, gain valuable experience, and then come back and help with the financial side of the farm. But at their high school graduation, Beau had proposed, and she’d followed him to Buffalo because of great school and career opportunities for him. She’d attended community college for one year before getting into the same school as Beau.
During their marriage, she hadn’t often regretted her choices, but there had been some days when she had. The days when she’d stared out at the cookie-cutter houses in the Buffalo neighborhood they lived in and yearned for the sweet scent of the flowers surrounding the farm and the beautiful, blue Montana skies.
Now it looked like pushing aside her dreams all those years ago had consequences she never could’ve imagined.
“Barrel racing? But you haven’t done that for years! The rodeo is only a couple of weeks away. Can you enter at this late stage? Why are you even thinking about it? You need a horse to compete too. What are you going to do about that? You’re not as young as you were when you were competing before.”
Way to tell me I’m too old, Mom.
Chrissy kept the words locked down. Her mom wasn’t wrong, but she also wasn’t right either. While it had been a long time since she’d competitively competed, she had been on the back of a horse over the intervening years. So what if it had been riding around a ring on the weekends when Beau had been off at work conferences? She’d still felt the wind in her hair as the horse galloped over the dirt. It didn’t quite give her the same adrenaline rush as sliding around barrels gave her, but she’d taken whatever she could get. She was sure if she’d looked hard enough, she would’ve found a place around Buffalo where she could’ve gone around some barrels if she’d wanted to.
“It’s like riding a bike, Mom. You don’t forget those skills. As for if I can enter, I’ll check, but as a previous winner and hometown Marietta girl, I’m sure I’ll be able to get a spot.” At least she hoped she would, but that was a bridge to cross later. As for a horse, well, she’d work that out too.
All that mattered was if she could enter. If the fates were on her side and she won, she could use not only the proceeds from Beau’s life insurance but also the rodeo winnings to get the farm out of the red and into the black. It would be a start. An injection of cash, and that was all they needed. She would look at other ways to increase the profits of the farm. Maybe they could do something for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Although it was September and getting anything ready in time for them to sell for the holidays was likely impossible, but she had to try.
“Hmm, well, I think you should sit on it for a bit longer before making a decision. Is there a particular reason as to why you’re looking at entering the rodeo?”
While her mom’s tone was light, Chrissy didn’t miss the way her gaze had fallen on the books resting on the desk. Nor did she miss the way her shoulders drooped a little and her mouth firmed into a thin line.
If Chrissy had thought her mom didn’t know about the farm’s issue, her reaction right at that second suggested the opposite.
How did she approach it, though?
How did she tell her mom what she’d found?
How did she tell her sisters? And should she?
The questions raced around her mind, and she willed them to stop so that she could think logically and unemotionally about it all.
“It will be a bit of fun. You know I used to love competing in the Copper Mountain Rodeo each year. Since it’s my first year back, why not give it a go?”
Mom pursed her lips, as though she was about to lecture her like she had when Chrissy had been a teenager and had wanted to join the school dance team. In her teens she hadn’t had a lick of coordination when it came to dancing, or for doing the leaps and jumps that were required for the routines, and she still didn’t. Nor had she had any dance lessons, either, because her focus had been on horses and rodeos. Mom had sat her down and pointed all of that out to her, and in the end, Chrissy had listened, even though she hadn’t wanted to. After seeing one of the group practices, Chrissy had been glad her mom had set her straight. There would’ve been no way she would’ve made the team and would’ve embarrassed herself silly when she’d tried out.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, Chrissy, but you know yourself better than I do, and if this is something you want to do, then I’m not going to stop you. You still haven’t said where you’re going to get a horse from, though?”
The logistics of how it was all going to happen wasn’t something she’d really thought about, considering the idea had only popped into her head, but no way was she going to let Mom know that she had no plans.
Wait . . . Riley. Yes! That will solve one problem.
“Riley Telford,” she blurted out triumphantly. “You remember her—she went to school with Sunny. Her family breeds horses. They let me ride one of their horses in a rodeo when Pepper pulled up sore after a practice run one time.”
Pepper had been a beautiful black horse with a white strip down her nose. Chrissy had been heartbroken when it became evident that the injury Pepper sustained during one of their runs had turned out to be more serious than they’d first thought. There’d been only one option in the end. Chrissy quickly shoved those thoughts down deep. They’d done the right thing, even though it had hurt so much at the time.
“I know the Telfords.”
Mom glanced at the books again, and the ball of dread in Chrissy’s stomach that her mom knew exactly what was going on bounced around like the silver ball in a pinball machine.
“Is there something else you want to say, Mom?”
Mom’s attention darted to the ceiling before landing back on Chrissy. “I’m not sure how to say this. I don’t want to disappoint you or Tilly, and most especially, Sunny, but I’ve thought long and hard on this decision and I think it’s the right one.”
Chrissy didn’t like where the conversation was heading, but Mom was talking and she would listen, like the dutiful daughter she was. “What are you trying to say, Mom?”
Eunice Bloom closed the distance between them and reached out to brush her fingers over the books on the desk.
There was Chrissy’s answer. The one she’d been hoping that she could keep from her mother, but as she suspected, was something her mom knew all about. “Your father was never any good with the books, and after he fired Ewan, the accountant, I knew something was up. He was a stubborn man whenever I asked to help. He told me he had it under control, but I knew he didn’t.”
“That’s why he called me,” Chrissy murmured. Once again, the guilt that she hadn’t made time for her family cut deep. She may not have been there for them in the past, but she was here now and she was going to make it right.
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Letting Mom know that Dad had called her and she hadn’t bothered to speak to him wouldn’t make the situation any better. “I’m sure, even if you pushed Dad, he wouldn’t have been forthcoming.”
“You’re probably right. I could’ve asked a bit more about the business, though. But I knew my place, and as old-fashioned as it sounds to everyone now, I accepted it and was happy being a mom and homemaker. I loved that man with every fiber of my being. And he was a good man. A good husband, who treated me like a queen, and he loved you girls as much as he loved his flowers.”
Tears welled in Chrissy’s eyes. She’d known her parents had a relationship that most of the current generation of women would rail against. Chrissy herself had thought it more than once—that her mother could do more than just cook, clean, and look after her and her sisters. But she’d also seen how much her father loved her mother and vice versa. While how they lived and their relationship may not work for Chrissy, it had worked for them.
“What’s going on, Mom?” Chrissy questioned when her mom hadn’t spoken for a few seconds.
“I think the best thing to do is look at selling the farm.”
Chrissy jumped from her seat, shock rolling through her in waves. “What? No! It doesn’t have to come to that. I can help. I can work out a plan to make us profitable again. I’ve already got ideas on how to do it. I’ve got Beau’s money I can use to help us. You can’t do this, Mom.”
The second she said her mother couldn’t do it, Eunice’s spine straightened. “I can assure you I can. The farm will be lucky to survive to the end of the year. No matter what plans you might have. Nor will Beau’s money help, which I forbid you to use to rescue the farm. He left that for you and your future, and that’s what you’ll use it for. There’s no other choice.”
Chrissy opened her mouth to argue more, especially about Beau’s money. She had no qualms about using it to save the farm and knew deep in her bones that Beau would encourage her to use it to save her family legacy. But the way her mom’s chin had lifted and the fire of determination in her eyes meant that stating her case and arguing wouldn’t be worth it. Mom was convinced this was the only way forward.
Chrissy was going to persuade her there was another way. That selling the farm was a last resort. The flower farm had been her father’s dream and now it was Sunny’s, and she was going to make sure it didn’t leave the Bloom family.
Ever.
End of Excerpt
