After she’d finally cooled down, she stepped out of the shower. Pulling her wet hair up into a ponytail, she decided against makeup and dressed for comfort. Starting on one end of Greenville and hitting every store that might have silk flowers, she bought more than she needed in each place. By the time she reached the Walmart, the back of her van was already loaded. She grabbed a cart and headed straight for the artificial-flower aisle. Rounding the end of an aisle, she crashed into another cart.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered.

“No problem. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I think they’d call it a no-fault accident.”

She looked up and into Graham Harrison’s eyes. There she was in a faded T-shirt, jeans that had seen better days, hair all messy, and no makeup. There was no place to hide, and it would’ve been rude to ignore him.

“Well, hello, again. I don’t think we’ve done too much damage to the carts,” she said, hoping he’d think her red cheeks were the result of sunburn.

“They still roll and hold a lot of merchandise. Actually, it’s the store’s fault. They should install traffic lights.” His eyes bored into hers. “I understand you and my girls have designed the perfect dress for the wedding. I’m almost afraid to go home after what they told me they might do.”

“It’s really a sweet little dress that they can wear to church afterwards, so don’t worry. I loved working with them. They’re amazing girls. I may have a little business proposition for them, but maybe they should talk to you about it before I say anything.”

“They’ve already called me twice.” He grinned. “But wait until you get to know them better before you think they’re too wonderful, especially Tabby. She’s the mouthy, ornery one. Dixie has a quieter, gentler nature. But they’re both good kids.”

“How are you settling in?” Mitzi asked.

“We’re almost unpacked. Moving from a small house to a big one isn’t as difficult as if it’d been the other way around,” he answered. “And the change will be good for the girls. They had a rough year.”

“Oh?” She feigned ignorance and glanced at his cart. Hair products, Stetson aftershave, a package of three red oven mitts, and three rib-eye steaks.

“Bullying problems over their size. My sister, Alice, talked me into bringing them to Celeste. She says the school here has a motto about bully reporting called ‘Stand Tall. Tell All.’ I hope she’s right.”

“Must be something they decided to do after we were in school,” Mitzi said.

“Did you have problems?” Graham asked.

Immediately, Mitzi wished she hadn’t said that out loud. Now he’d look at her as a fat girl for sure. “Sometimes.” She blushed again.