Read Online Going to the Chapel: A Novella by Rita Herron - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rita Herron
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Atlanta and Chattanooga. You might draw customers from there.”
Izzy nodded. She did want to grow the business, although she didn’t want her name in the paper where Ray might see it.
Then again, he lived halfway across the country. No way would their small-town wedding business reach Texas.
Ray tried that damn PI for the dozenth time. Where the hell was he? And why hadn’t he found Izzy by now?
A pounding on his door started, and he ducked behind the window and peeked out. Dammit. His left eye twitched. And a sharp cramp seized his stomach. Stupid nerves always gave him the runs.
Everything was out of control now.
Some cop had shown up at the country club asking questions, and one of the widow women, that tight-ass Beatrice Puckett, had grown suspicious about what he was doing. Now three others had called and one was at the door, looking like she was going to bash his head in with her silver-studded cane.
He had to find Izzy and get that money back. It was his ticket out of Texas and the trouble he was in.
CHAPTER SIX
Izzy knew she was eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it. She heard her aunt whispering to Uncle Harry on the phone, and curiosity got the better of her.
“I know Izzy’s in trouble,” Aunt Dottie said. “But Daisy and Caroline have their own problems.” Her aunt sighed at something her husband said. “I’m just tired of being the keeper of the family secrets. I’ve got to get these girls to make up and trust one another.”
Izzy held her breath as she heard her aunt pacing, the crutch clacking. But when she peeked through the door crack, her aunt wasn’t leaning on the thing. She was swinging it back and forth as she paced as if clearing a path in front of her. “This business had better work,” Aunt Dottie said. “I don’t know if I can live through another embarrassment.”
Shame burned Izzy’s face. Her aunt would not be humiliated by her again. She wouldn’t let it happen.
“Yes, maybe Caroline will eventually tell them, but it’s not my place.”
Tell them what?
Footsteps clattered from the hallway, and she heard Daisy humming “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” as she started work in the kitchen.
Izzy jumped back from the door and hurried out the back. But as she drove to the B and B to meet Caroline, questions nagged at her.
What secrets was Aunt Dottie keeping? And what did her aunt want Caroline to tell them?
Caroline met her at the door to the B and B, and Izzy itched to ask her. But the closed expression on her sister’s face warned her that she was here for a business meeting, not to share personal stories.
How could she blame Caroline for hating her, though?
Izzy followed Caroline through the B and B, impressed with the metamorphosis from outdated decor to rooms boasting southern charm and style.
“Aunt Dottie wanted me to show you what the group has done so far with the inn,” Caroline said stiffly.
“You think it’ll be ready for Elsa and Levi’s wedding?”
“It’s come a long way,” Caroline said. “The women in town have been working like crazy. They’ve really pulled together on this.”
Like Izzy wished she and her sisters could do.
“I used the more masculine patterns and colors in rooms catering to the men in the wedding party or male guests,” Caroline said as she gave her the tour. “When we—I mean you and Aunt Dottie—aren’t hosting a wedding, Myrtle can rent to visitors who want a retreat in the mountains. Or people who want to visit for a consultation.”
The scent of fresh paint mingled with the potpourri Caroline had set out in crystal dishes throughout the inn. “Good idea,” Izzy agreed.
Caroline led her into another room. “I put a Dresden plate quilt in this room and a log-cabin quilt in the room next door. The quilting bee donated the Northern Star, Double Hearts, and Shoo Fly.”
Caroline traced a finger over one of the Dresden squares. “They asked if they could hang a few for sale in the shop or
Izzy nodded. She did want to grow the business, although she didn’t want her name in the paper where Ray might see it.
Then again, he lived halfway across the country. No way would their small-town wedding business reach Texas.
Ray tried that damn PI for the dozenth time. Where the hell was he? And why hadn’t he found Izzy by now?
A pounding on his door started, and he ducked behind the window and peeked out. Dammit. His left eye twitched. And a sharp cramp seized his stomach. Stupid nerves always gave him the runs.
Everything was out of control now.
Some cop had shown up at the country club asking questions, and one of the widow women, that tight-ass Beatrice Puckett, had grown suspicious about what he was doing. Now three others had called and one was at the door, looking like she was going to bash his head in with her silver-studded cane.
He had to find Izzy and get that money back. It was his ticket out of Texas and the trouble he was in.
CHAPTER SIX
Izzy knew she was eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it. She heard her aunt whispering to Uncle Harry on the phone, and curiosity got the better of her.
“I know Izzy’s in trouble,” Aunt Dottie said. “But Daisy and Caroline have their own problems.” Her aunt sighed at something her husband said. “I’m just tired of being the keeper of the family secrets. I’ve got to get these girls to make up and trust one another.”
Izzy held her breath as she heard her aunt pacing, the crutch clacking. But when she peeked through the door crack, her aunt wasn’t leaning on the thing. She was swinging it back and forth as she paced as if clearing a path in front of her. “This business had better work,” Aunt Dottie said. “I don’t know if I can live through another embarrassment.”
Shame burned Izzy’s face. Her aunt would not be humiliated by her again. She wouldn’t let it happen.
“Yes, maybe Caroline will eventually tell them, but it’s not my place.”
Tell them what?
Footsteps clattered from the hallway, and she heard Daisy humming “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” as she started work in the kitchen.
Izzy jumped back from the door and hurried out the back. But as she drove to the B and B to meet Caroline, questions nagged at her.
What secrets was Aunt Dottie keeping? And what did her aunt want Caroline to tell them?
Caroline met her at the door to the B and B, and Izzy itched to ask her. But the closed expression on her sister’s face warned her that she was here for a business meeting, not to share personal stories.
How could she blame Caroline for hating her, though?
Izzy followed Caroline through the B and B, impressed with the metamorphosis from outdated decor to rooms boasting southern charm and style.
“Aunt Dottie wanted me to show you what the group has done so far with the inn,” Caroline said stiffly.
“You think it’ll be ready for Elsa and Levi’s wedding?”
“It’s come a long way,” Caroline said. “The women in town have been working like crazy. They’ve really pulled together on this.”
Like Izzy wished she and her sisters could do.
“I used the more masculine patterns and colors in rooms catering to the men in the wedding party or male guests,” Caroline said as she gave her the tour. “When we—I mean you and Aunt Dottie—aren’t hosting a wedding, Myrtle can rent to visitors who want a retreat in the mountains. Or people who want to visit for a consultation.”
The scent of fresh paint mingled with the potpourri Caroline had set out in crystal dishes throughout the inn. “Good idea,” Izzy agreed.
Caroline led her into another room. “I put a Dresden plate quilt in this room and a log-cabin quilt in the room next door. The quilting bee donated the Northern Star, Double Hearts, and Shoo Fly.”
Caroline traced a finger over one of the Dresden squares. “They asked if they could hang a few for sale in the shop or
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