After spending years in foster care, Bonnie Blakley starts her bid for independence only to find herself attracted to single dad Morgan Masterson. Morgan finds his attraction to Bonnie as a betrayal to his wife who passed away. Can Bonnie get over her fear of family to forge a future with Morgan and his toddler Maddie? Does family really matter?
Family Matters
“Did you see that? Your delivery truck almost knocked me down.” She took a breath to calm herself. “I’m Bonnie from the Elmvale Nursing Home. I think you have some flowers ready for me.” She mopped the perspiration from her forehead.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, just a little shaken.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Dawn.” The woman wiped her hands on her apron before they shook hands. “I’ll just get the order for you.”
Bonnie crossed her arms and looked around, finding relief in the cool environment. The pleasant room helped to compose her. Flowers of every color and shade captured her gaze. Astonished, she took in the variety of tulips, hibiscus, mums, and others she didn’t recognize. Crossing to a wall of coolers, she admired the arrangements behind the glass. Daisies tucked among baby’s breath caught her attention, delicate and arrestingly pretty. Someday she would make enough money to buy and enjoy a bouquet.
The door to the back room banged open, and an elegant woman entered holding a long, white box—the kind long-stemmed roses came in. “Hi, I’m Grace.”
“Good to meet you. I’m Bonnie,” she acknowledged, shaking the stately woman’s offered hand.
“Ah, these are for you then.” She laid the box on the counter and opened it. Roses mixed with other flowers lay on a bed of ferns. Some were beginning to wilt, and others had lost their leaves or petals. Bonnie closed her eyes as the aroma filled her with memories. The sweet fragrances brought visions of her childhood—picking flowers with her granddad in his garden. The memory was so poignant she choked up.
She signed a receipt and turned to leave when the man who nearly ran her down entered from the back room. Dressed in a blue uniform with the Petals and Posies’ logo, he filled the doorway with his broad shoulders. He swiped at a loose blond curl that hung over his left eye.
“You were driving the truck!” Bonnie gasped.
“Miss, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. I turned onto Brock and there you were, tugging at your hair. I swerved to miss you.” The expression in his big brown eyes begged forgiveness. His open palms confirmed it.
“Do you know each other?” Grace stepped forward.
“No.” Bonnie kept her tone crisp. With the flowers signed for, she swung toward the door to make her escape from the suddenly charged atmosphere. “Thank you,” she called.
A buzzing sound erupted near her ear, then something tangled in her hair. She screamed, dropping the box. Her precious cargo spilled onto the polished floor.
“Help me. Get it out.” The urge to run was strong. A flashback clenched her throat.
Mrs. Grimes dragging her by the hand and locking her in the shed for punishment, where she couldn’t escape the bugs. Bees had made a hive in the corner, and she was forced to sit still for hours to avoid getting stung.
Bonnie slammed her heart shut on those bitter memories and concentrated on the bee. She pulled at the strands to rid herself of the insect. It thrashed and buzzed all the louder. She danced and bent like a native person in a primitive dance, trying to untangle the bug from her long curls. Strong male hands grasped her and pressed her against the wall of coolers.
“Stand still.” The man’s voice held annoyance as he plucked at her hair. Bonnie squirmed. She understood firsthand what bee stings were all about—huge, painful welts that lasted for days.
“Oh, please, get it out.” Her cheeks heated as tears slipped down her face while she shifted from foot to foot. Why was he taking so long?