1

Chapter One
S
herry wiped her palms on the side of her shirt as she
approached Brad Henderson who was standing a couple of
feet from a row of cards in the shop she managed. The two-
day-old stubble on his face and slightly tousled but short medium
brown hair gave him a rugged look.
Need help? she asked.
More than you can imagine. He turned and pulled out one
of the cards before putting it back, shaking his head and making
a face. Were throwing a little one-year anniversary party for our
receptionist this afternoon, and I have no idea what kind of card
would be appropriate. He cast a helpless look in her direction.
Im sort of lost when it comes to this type of thing.
We have cards for practically every occasion. She motioned
for him to follow her around to the next row as the door chime
rang. Why dont you browse a bit while I see if I can help the
next customer?
He winked, and her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might
jump out of her chest. The last few times shed been around Brad,
hed had the strangest effect on her.
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Naomi, hi. Sherry glanced at the birdcage in Naomis hand.
What are you doing with Andys bird?
Can you keep an eye on him for a while?
Yes, of course. When Naomi didnt move, suspicion rose.
What else is on your mind?
Im glad you asked. Naomi McCord plunked the birdcage
on the floor beside the register and gently placed her crepe-
skinned hand on Sherry Butlers arm. The book Sherry had been
reading between customers fell to the floor. I think its time you
face reality.
Huh?
Youre not getting any younger, and its time to let go of
some of your . . . She offered an apologetic look, and Sherry
braced herself for the inevitable bomb. . . . hang-ups. Oh, by the
way, thanks for agreeing to watch Murray. Andy, silly man that
he is, took advantage of my bleedin heart for all animals with a
face. The fellas at the fire hall said Murray is only allowed there
when Andys on duty, so he brought him to me. Problem is, my
apartment is small, and I cant sleep with him ruffling his feathers
all night.
Murray flapped his wings and squawked.
I
Sherry wasnt able to get a second word out before another
customer sounded the chimes as she entered the card shop.
Murray belted out an ear-piercing screech that sounded more
like a cat with its tail caught in a door than a full-grown parrot.
Naomi patted Sherrys shoulder and backed toward the door.
We all have hang-ups, sweetie, so dont be too worried. Oh, Brad
Henderson has been asking about you. I think the two of you
would make such a sweet couple.
Matchmaking. Again. Sherry sighed. Brad and I have always
been friends, thats all.
Right. Naomis eyes twinkled with amusement. All I ask
is that you go home and think about making some changes in
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your life . . . especially your love life. She glanced around the
shop before settling her gaze back on Sherry. Youve gone how
long without a date?
A while. Sherrys voice came out in a squeak, so she cleared
her throat and glanced over at Murray the parrot who preened
his feathers.
Thats what Im talkin about. Naomis eyes widened as
she looked behind Sherry. Brad! How long you been standing
there?
A few minutes. So howre you doing, Naomi? Working on
anything important lately? Sherry saw the twinkle in his eye.
Sounds like you might be.
Naomi placed one hand on the door and wiggled the fingers
on her other hand in a wave. Buh-bye, Sherry. Call if you need
me. As the door closed, she added, Andy should be by to pick
up Murray sometime the day after tomorrow. Love you!
Sherry lifted a finger to say she couldnt watch Andys par-
rot that long, but it was too late. Naomi had already disappeared
down the sidewalk.
Brad chuckled. Thats one woman who knows what she
wants, and shell do whatever she has to do to get it.
Sorry about that. Sherry glanced down at the bird and
sighed. Im afraid I know nothing about birds.
I havent seen Murray in a while. Brad leaned down and
looked the bird in the eye. So how have you been, big boy?
Big boy . . . squawk . . . big boy.
Smart bird. Brad chuckled. In case you didnt already
know this, you need to be very careful about what you say around
him.
Sherry nodded. I can see that. He has a big mouth . . . er,
beak.
The better to kiss you with . . . squawk . . . Murray made a
smooching sound.
Brad lifted his eyebrows and backed toward the door. I
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better get back to the office before they send someone looking
for me.
We need backup . . . squawk . . . send somebody quick.
Brad waved as he shoved the door open to leave. Have fun,
you two.
Sherry let out a deep sigh once she and Murray were alone.
Brads visit had her senses on overdrive, but Naomis overt com-
ments embarrassed her. What a morning.
Murray squawked. She jumped. Calm down, Murray.
Cool, calm, and collected . . . squawk . . .
As much as she wanted to tell Naomi she couldnt watch the
bird, she felt as though she owed the woman something. While her
own mother was busy working and enabling her alcoholic dad,
Naomi stepped up and took her to church, remembered special
occasions her parents had forgotten, and provided a much-needed
shoulder to cry on. Sherry looked back on those days and realized
her mother had just given lip service when she complained about
Naomis interference. She didnt want anyone thinking shed vol-
untarily relinquished her responsibilities as a mother.
Now that Sherrys parents had passed, she lived alone in the
family home with its curling shingles, squeaky doors, and peeling
linoleum tiles, and Naomi still brought a maternal influence to
their relationship. Sometimes she came across as gruff, but Sherry
had no doubt the woman loved her.
The chimes sounded again. Sherry turned her attention to
the woman whod entered with a little girl who appeared to be
around three or four. May I help you?
Im looking for a card for my aunt.
The sound of Murray rattling around in his cage elicited a
sour look from Sherry. She sucked in a breath and tried her best
to concentrate on her customer, but her still-frazzled nerves made
it difficult. Funny, Christian, or serious?
The customer cut a nervous glance toward Murray before she
turned her back to Sherry and shrugged. Christian, please.
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Okay, lets see what we have. Sherry led the woman to the
Christian section, and the little girl skipped along behind her.
Youll probably find the perfect card here.
The woman smiled, but before she had a chance to say a
word, the little girl yanked her hand from her mothers and
bolted toward a display of stuffed animals, knocking them over
and sending them skittering across the aisle. She examined the
animals and finally picked up a stuffed dog. I want this puppy.
No, sweetie, not today.
Sherry scurried toward the mess. Ill straighten up here
while you decide which card you want.
As she piled the animals back on the display rack, she heard
the woman and her daughter arguing about the puppy. But I
want it. You promised youd get me a treat if I was good.
Yes, but not something so expensive. She leaned over and
whispered in her daughters ear.
The little girl looked up at Sherry, frowned, and then handed
her mother the stuffed dog. The way her bottom lip jutted out
reminded Sherry of the many times her dad had told her to be
careful or shed trip over her lip.
Thank you, sweetie. Ill buy you a treat at the Dollar Store.
Sherry forced a smile. Ill wait for you at the desk. Just let me
know if I can help you with anything.
As Sherry waited, her mind drifted back to her conversation
with Naomi, a well-meaning doyenne of Bloomfield who had her
nose in everyones businessand Sherrys more than most.
Mommy, if Im real good, can I have one of those candies up
there? The sound of the little girl approaching yanked Sherry
back to the moment.
Murray wants candy! the bird squawked.
The child jumped and ran around behind her mother.
Mommy, that birds scary.
Hes harmless. At least Sherry hoped he was. She extracted
a wrapped candy from the jar and turned to the girls mother with
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a questioning look. A siren-like sound blasted from Murrays
beak. Sherry cast an apologetic look toward the woman. His
owner is a fireman.
The woman paused for a second, gave the bird a nervous
glance, and nodded. Are you sure about the bird? I mean, hes
awful loud.
Im pretty sure, but I wouldnt test him, Sherry said as she
walked around from behind the counter and bent down to offer
the child the candy. Here you go. Its butterscotch.
Instead of taking the candy, the girl stomped her feet and
scowled. I dont want burr-scotch. I want peppermint.
Oh. Sherry glanced up at the mom for direction. When the
woman nodded toward the jar and pointed, Sherry swapped out
the candies and offered the child what she said she wanted. If she
ever had children, theyd be a lot better behaved than this one.
And grateful too.
Murray wants can
No! Sherry shook her finger at Murray. You cant have
any candy. Now be quiet.
Mommy, that lady just yelled at the birdie. The childs bot-
tom lip puckered. Shes mean.
Sherry slowly shook her head. Im so sorry. I dont
normally
The little girl snatched the candy from Sherrys hand, jumped
back to her mothers side, ripped off the cellophane, and popped
it into her mouth. The mom seemed distracted as she paid for the
card and left. Neither of them said a single thank-you.
Sherry might have grown up with the town drunk for a dad
and a champion enabler for a mom, but they always insisted on
good manners from their only child. She let out a sigh of relief
when the mom and her little girl left the store.
Even after experiences like this, there were times when Sherry
felt a maternal tuglike when she would look down at a baby,
only to be met by a gummy grin. She smiled, but when reality
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hit, she shuddered and came to her senses. At thirty-eight years
of age, Sherry needed to purge thoughts like that from her mind.
She didnt even have a man in her life, let alone a husband. All her
romantic encounters these days were in the pages of her favorite
Christian romance novels.
Murray wants candy.
Sherry glared at the bird. You are nothing but a royal pain.
No pain, no gain . . . squawk . . . no pain, no gain.
Enough!
Cant get enough . . . squawk! . . . Cant get enough! With
that, Murray nuzzled his beak beneath one wing and pretended
to hide.
The rest of the morning was normal. Well, normal for
Bloomfields Main Street. Sherry finished reading a chapter and
closed the book when customers arrived. A couple of the women
from the Bloomfield Garden Club stopped by early in the after-
noon, disagreeing about the current Yard of the Month award.
Sherry grinned as they approached the register. Good after-
noon, ladies. How may I help you?
Helen Groves plopped a basket on the counter and slowly
removed the cloth napkin, revealing the pastries underneath. I
know how much you like bear claws, and we had some extras in
the bakery this morning.
Bookstore owner Elsie Warren rolled her eyes. Shes just
politickin.
Am not. Helen scowled at Elsie before turning back to
Sherry, a grin widening her lips a tad too much. It made Sherrys
cheeks ache just looking at her. But we would like to know what
you think about two finalists who tied, so we brought some pic-
tures. She cast a warning glance at Elsie as she pulled an envelope
from her oversized handbag. Take a peek at these.
Sherry accepted the envelope and removed the pictures that
had been taken of two different yards from several angles. I
WAITING FOR A VIEW 8
dont recognize either of these, but I like the one with the roses
and hostas.
But dont you think the country garden in this one looks
nice with the zinnias, periwinkle, and Lambs Ear? The disap-
pointment on Helens face confirmed which yard each of the
women liked.
Oh, of course. The Lambs Ear adds a certain softness.
Sherry glanced up at Elsie whose self-satisfied grin obviously
grated on Helens last nerve. She shrugged. I really dont know,
ladies, and since Im vice president of the garden club, I need to be
impartial. In fact, I think Ive already said too much.
Helen fluttered her fingers in the air. Oh, dont be silly.
Pamela has never minded giving her opinion, and shes the
president.
As much as Sherry appreciated Pamela Jaspers hard work,
she knew how Pamela had to have her hand in every single pie.
Most of the garden club meetings turned into The Pamela Jasper
Show.
Both of these are very pretty. Sherry glanced back and forth
between the pictures as the women stared at her, waiting for a
verdict. Why dont we choose two winners this month?
Helen grabbed the pictures from the counter and stuffed them
back into the envelope. Because weve never done that before.
Thats not a good reason. I just happen to like Sherrys idea.
Elsie placed a fist on her hip and tried to bob her head, but she
looked more like a goose with a crick in its neck. Sherry had to
bite her lip to keep from smiling. Youre such a fuddy-duddy,
Helen Groves.
Murray seized the opportunity to make his presence known.
Fuddy-duddy . . . squawk . . . fuddy-duddy.
Hush, Murray.
Hush, little baby . . . squawk . . . Hush, little baby!
Helen looked dangerously close to laughing, but she had the
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good graces not to. So are you going to develop some spine and
help make a decision?
Elsie rolled her eyes. Leave the poor girl alone. Cant you
see she doesnt want to play favorites? Now youre being a bully.
Helen reared back and jabbed her thumb to her chest. Im
being a bully? Youre just pickin that yard because you think itll
get you more votes when the board election rolls around. Youre
nothin but a politician.
You dont know what youre talkin about, Helen.
Youre the one
Another customer entered the store, so Sherry left the two
women at the desk, still arguing about being a fuddy-duddy,
stick-in-the-mud, glad-hand politician. If she hadnt been in the
garden club for so long, shed wonder how they ever made deci-
sions on anything.
By the time she finished cashing out the customer, the two
women had come to an agreement. Helen lifted her chin and
announced, Weve decided to start from scratch and see if theres
something we missed in the other finalists. I almost voted for
Andy Barnhardts yard, but I didnt cause he won this time last
year.
Andy Barnhardt. Hey, there, handsome. Murray paused
and squawked. Lookin good, young man.
Helen lifted an eyebrow and looked over at Murray as though
she just realized he was there. Isnt that Andys bird?
Of course, it is, Elsie said. And he obviously learns every-
thing he knows from Andy.
Someones ego got the best of him, and his birds spillin
the beans. Helen rolled her eyes and laughed. So what do you
think, ladies? Should we give him the award again this soon?
Elsie nodded. If she changes her vote, and I change mine,
we wont have to run to Pamela for a tie-breaker. She cleared her
throat. And I dont think anyone will be upset about giving this
to Andy since his yard is always in the running.
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That made about as much sense to Sherry as anything else
from the garden club, so she shrugged. Then it looks like the
winner has been decided.
Helen held up a finger. But Im still not sure.
Cmon, Helen. Elsie headed toward the door. I need to
get back to the bookstore. Itll take you forever to make up your
feeble mind.
Feeble mind? You should be talking. Why, I
Sherry held up one of the bear claws. Thanks for the pas-
tries, Helen. See you both at the meeting tonight.
As soon as the shop door closed behind the ladies, she sank
her teeth into the bear claw and sighed as it dissolved in her
mouth. Nothing tasted better than a pastry from Groves Bakery
. . . except maybe one of the delicious cobblers or pies from the
Pink Geranium. Sherry sure was glad she was blessed with slen-
der genes.
At the end of the day, Sherry locked the shop, lifted Murrays
cage, and walked home. Her parents had bought one of the small
houses on the street that ran parallel to Main Street before she
was born, so she was able to leave her ten-year-old clunker in the
driveway and walk to work. As she made her way up the sidewalk
to the front porch, she glanced around at the vacant flowerbeds
that had let her down. Again. All those perennials shed ordered
from the garden catalog three years ago turned out to be duds.
It was downright embarrassing for the vice president of the
Bloomfield Garden Club to have one of the plainest yards in town
. . . and the only one whod never even finaled in the Yard of the
Month competition. Sherry knew that Naomi had been her ticket
to join the garden club, and once she got in, her willingness to do
anything she was asked had earned her the vice-presidency.
Weeds threatened to overtake her lawn, but at least they were
green, and from the street, no one could tell it wasnt grass. The
flowerpots flanking the front stoop contained the only color
shed successfully managed to coax from her plantings. Mounds
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of purple petunias overflowed from the pots. Sherry stopped,
put Murrays cage on the stoop, and deadheaded a few flowers to
encourage new growth before unlocking her door.
Murray wants candy.
How many times do I have to say no?
Just say no . . . squawk . . . just say no.
Sherry sighed as she carried Murray into the house and placed
his cage on the hall table. She had no idea how she managed to
get snookered into bird-sitting. And Naomi, a bleeding heart?
Meddlesome do-gooder with an agenda, maybe, but not bleeding
heart.
PAMELA POUNDED THE GAVEL, announcing the opening of the
Bloomfield Garden Club meeting. Sherry sat beside Pamela and
looked out over the attendees. They had a rather large member-
ship, but only a quarter of them regularly attended meetings. And
those who did had more say in town matters than most of the
folks on the city council.
As Sherry scanned the crowd, her gaze settled on Bloomfield
Gazette reporter Bailey McCullough, who judiciously took
notes, only glancing up once in a while. Sherry knew that Bailey
would much rather cover a hard news beat, but since Bloomfield
rarely had enough hard news for the more senior reporter, all that
was available for Bailey was society news.
So are we in agreement that Andy Barnhardt wins this
month? Pamela lifted her gavel once again and held it in the air.
Sherry looked at Helen, who nodded, and then at Elsie, who
shrugged. Pamela lowered her gavel with a bang, letting everyone
know the decision was final.
New business, anyone?
Each committee member gave a report. The programs were
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all planned, the organizers knew what to do, and the coffers were
in excellent shape. Everything was the sameexactly the way
Sherry liked it.
Now for the most important issue . . . Pamela narrowed her
eyes and scanned the room with her steely gaze that indicated one
thing: She meant business, and there was no room for discussion.
For far too many years, weve hovered slightly below the 10,000
population mark, and its time we got serious.
But Pamela, were doing everything we can, Helen said.
What more do you want from us?
We need to do more. Pamela paused long enough for fear to
set in among her subjects. When she finally spoke, everyone sat
ramrod straight. What I want from you all is everything youve
got. This is serious, folks. Not only do we have the opportunity
to get a mention in Best Small Towns in America, well get to
change that sad old sign leading into town.
But were in Best Tiny Towns in America, Elsie argued.
Pamela visibly shuddered. A small town is an upgrade from
a tiny town, and well get more attention from serious vacationers
and businesses.
And our out-of-town families wont be able to make fun of
us for living in a Podunk town, Naomi added with a throaty
laugh. But quite honestly, folks, I really dont give a hoot. I like
living in a tiny town.
Naomi. Pamela glared at her as her words came out in a
growl. Its obvious that some of us do care what other people
think, unlike some people. She looked Naomi up and down
before scanning the crowd.
Are you saying? Naomi stopped herself before causing a
ruckus.
Everyone knew that Pamela wouldnt back down from an
argument, and Naomi was the only member whod argue. But
even Naomi knew enough to pick her arguments. Pamela had
made her point that more businesses used the Best Small Towns
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in America book than the Tiny Towns edition for choosing a new
location for their companies, and shed reasoned that it would add
stability and culture to Bloomfield.
As the meeting wore on, Sherry worked hard to stay focused
on the business at hand. Every now and then, she caught Naomi
staring at her, making her squirm. Most of the garden club mem-
bers at one time or another had acknowledged that Sherry was
stuck in a rut and lacked a love life, but they didnt harp on it as
much as Naomi did. Naomis mission: Fix anything broken and
tweak what wasnt. The question in Sherrys mind was whether
she was a fix or a tweak.
The low roar of voices grew louder, until Pamela banged her
gavel again. How do you expect to get anything done while gab-
bing your heads off? We have some serious issues to discuss. She
looked around the room. Do you realize were only twenty-five
people shy of having 10,000 residents in Bloomfield? All itll take
to get us there is a big family moving in and some kids coming
home from college to stay . . . and a couple of new babies being
born.
Helen cupped her hands in the form of a megaphone. What
do you expect us to do about that? Most of us are way past our
childbearing years.
You know what Im talking about, Helen. We need to
encourage some of the newlyweds and show them that the sooner
they start their families, the better off theyll be.
Naomi snorted. Wholl be better off?
Helen lifted both hands in mock surrender. Maybe we
should build a new playground to attract the little ones.
Pamela gazed off toward the back wall before letting a smile
form slowly on her lips as she nodded. Not a bad idea.
Sherry glanced over at Bailey whose hand raced across the
page as she took notes. No telling how this meeting would look
in the next biweekly issue of the Bloomfield Gazette. Folks
whod always lived in Bloomfield wouldnt bat an eye, but
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newcomers . . . well, they might have second thoughts about the
sanity of their neighbors.
Why dont we form a committee to look into this? Naomi
asked.
Good idea. Pamela gestured around the room. We need a
committee chairperson, so Ill appoint Sherry Butler.
Sherrys chin slackened, but she couldnt get a word in edge-
wise. The next topic Pamela brought up was the church potluck.
This time everyone volunteered.
As Pamela spoke, she waved her talon-like fingernails in the
air, showing off her jeweled manicure. Nothing about Pamela was
natural, but no one expected anything different from her.
Sherry tried to escape as soon as the meeting ended, but
Naomi caught up with her right outside the door. Not so
fast, lightning-legs. Have you thought about what I said this
morning?
Yes, and I promise to give everything you said some
thought.
Dont wait long, young lady. Id hate to see you go through
the rest of your life with regrets.
Sherry smiled, gave Naomi a hug, and thanked her for car-
ing. Shed learned early in life that with every argument came a
fifty-fifty chance of losing, so she didnt put up a fuss if she could
get away with it, and there was an even better chance of the issue
being forgotten.
THE REST OF THE week was nerve-wracking. Every time the
chimes sounded at the door of the Bloomfield Card Shop, Sherry
jumped, thinking it might be Naomi checking up on her. But it
never was.
By the time Sunday rolled around, Sherry was a nervous ball
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of anticipation. Naomi never missed church, and Sherry knew
better than to avoid going to the one place that mattered most, or
shed have a whole group of folks stopping by to check up on her
later . . . with Naomi leading the charge.
Sherry made her way toward the center of the sanctuary and
into the pew where she sat every Sunday morning. Shed barely
gotten comfortable when a tiny familiar voice piped up.
Mommy, theres that lady who gave me candy at the store.
When Sherry turned around, the little girl leaned into her mother.
Remember, the one you said is probly an old maid?