Chapter One

      Kelly Nelson thrust a rose into the air and waved it around like a victory flag. “Yes!” She grinned at her daughter, cutting hearts out of leftover ivy leaves on the table beside her. “We got her!”

      “Got who, Mom?” Lulu said.

      “That lady from the wedding magazine. Samantha Douglas. The one Mommy’s been trying to convince since Christmas. She’s covering a Valentine’s Day event in Asheville, and I got her to agree to come up here afterward. I think she should do a piece on the wedding we’re having next weekend.”

      Lulu grinned. “Yeah!” She sounded so excited that Kelly wondered if she had shared a bit too much of her frustration over getting the attention of the regional bridal magazine. Lulu should never think about how hard it was to keep a business afloat. Eight-year-olds shouldn’t give a thought to how old the van was getting or how last month’s storm sprung two new roof leaks. Children ought to spend their days happy and secure, right? Lulu could certainly share in celebrating their flower shop’s successes, but Kelly felt an obligation to ensure her daughter had no sense of struggle or worry.

      “She’ll love us. She’ll love everything,” Lulu added, making Kelly smile.

      “Yes, she will. And our valley has lots to love, doesn’t it?” In the past year, the entire community of the newly christened Matrimony Valley had put its efforts behind reinventing itself. What once had been a small, struggling mill town had bootstrapped itself, bride by bride, into becoming a quaint Smoky Mountain wedding destination.

      And it was catching on. Maybe not quite fast enough to comfortably weather the seasonal nature of the wedding industry, but as one of the leaders of the Matrimony Valley “makeover,” Kelly was determined this would be the valley’s only lean winter. The coming summer was shaping up to be a promising second “high wedding season”—Kelly had floral contracts for no less than eight weddings between April and July.

      Winter, however, hadn’t been so busy. Sure, there were life’s ordinary floral occasions—birthdays, funerals, anniversaries, parties—but times were still tough. Valentine’s Day surely helped, but what would help most was the upcoming Valentine’s Day weekend wedding. Without that, it would have been a longer, colder, more worrisome winter. After all, while brides might prefer May and June, heating and water and dentist and mortgage bills showed up all year long. Things were feeling tight, and a piece praising all their town had to offer, published by Southeastern Nuptials Magazine, would go a long way toward bringing in steadier business.

      “Lots of ladies get proposed to on Valentine’s Day, you know,” Kelly explained to her daughter.

      “That’s on Wednesday,” Lulu said, pointing to the big red heart Kelly had drawn on the shop calendar.

      “That’s right. Which means on Thursday, lots of women will be thinking about where to get married.”

      “And they should get married here,” Lulu said with complete authority. Lulu’s enthusiastic promotion of her Love in Bloom flower shop always lit a mile-wide glow in Kelly’s heart. If she ever doubted she was going to make it—something she did way too much—all she had to do was look in her daughter’s eyes. Lulu had hope enough for the both of them. She always had, Kelly thought with gratitude. Even in those dark days. She’s such a blessing to me, Lord. Thank You.

      Lulu’s company made Saturdays Kelly’s favorite day in the shop. Having her daughter beside her just made everything bright and sunny, even if today’s skies were gray.

      Lulu was lining up the ivy hearts in little pairs, parading them down the counter in sets of botanical “couples,” while Kelly finished up estimates and made preparations for upcoming deliveries. A busy week was just what Love in Bloom needed.

      What it didn’t need, however, was the ominous buzzing sound and flickering lights that came from the refrigerated cooler behind her. You can’t die on me right before Valentine’s Day, Kelly silently warned the essential appliance. You’ve got to hang on until April, you hear?

      “Mom, George winked at you again,” Lulu said.

      “Why shouldn’t George like Valentine’s Day, too?” Kelly had adopted Lulu’s theory that the failing cooler Lulu had somehow named George was “winking” whenever the lights flickered rather than gathering speed toward a certain death. Denial can be its own form of optimism, she told herself.

      Lulu continued her ivy leaf processionals. “Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays. Daddy asked you to marry him on Valentine’s Day,