"Coming," Catherine said, shaking off her distraction. She grabbed the tray of orchids from the shelf and walked toward the front of the shop. The man was standing at the counter now, his tall figure making the cozy space feel even smaller.
"I need a bouquet," the man said. His voice was deep and calm.
"For a special occasion?" Dorine asked with her usual friendly smile.
"Not really. Something simple and elegant," he replied. "No bright colors."
Dorine nodded thoughtfully. "Lilies and eucalyptus. They are classic and understated."
"That works," he said.
As Dorine began arranging the bouquet, the man glanced around the shop. Catherine, standing nearby, couldn't help but notice the way his sharp eyes took everything in. For a moment, his gaze landed on her. She felt a jolt and quickly looked away, pretending to adjust a display.
"You have sunflowers here," he said, pointing to a bright corner of the shop.
Catherine glanced at him, surprised. "We do," she said carefully.
"They are bright and cheerful," he said.
"Not your style?" she asked with a small smile.
"Not today," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Before she could respond, Dorine called her over. "Catherine, wrap this for him, will you?"
Catherine moved behind the counter. Her hands worked quickly, wrapping the lilies and eucalyptus in crisp white paper. She tied a ribbon around the bouquet, then handed it to the man. Their fingers brushed briefly, sending a strange warmth through her.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"Enjoy," she replied, her voice quieter than she expected.
The man reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. Dorine raised her hand to stop him. "No need," she said kindly. "This one is on the house."
The man frowned slightly. "I insist on paying," he said.
Dorine shook her head. "You are Brandon Hartman, aren't you? The pastor's son?"
Catherine's head shot up in surprise. The name Hartman was well-known in Haven's Ridge. The Hartman family ran the largest church in the region, and their influence stretched far beyond religion.
Brandon hesitated before answering. "I am."
Dorine smiled warmly. "Your father officiated my husband's funeral years ago. This is my way of saying thank you."
Brandon paused, then nodded. "I see. Thank you."
He glanced at Catherine again, his gaze lingering for just a moment before he turned and walked to the door. The bell jingled as he stepped out, leaving the shop quiet once more.
Catherine watched him go, her thoughts racing.
"Can you believe that?" Dorine said, breaking the silence.
"What?" Catherine asked, still distracted.
"That we just had a Hartman in here," Dorine said, laughing softly. "They are like royalty around here."
Catherine forced a small smile, but her mind was elsewhere. She could still hear the sound of Brandon's voice and feel the strange pull of his presence.
"I'll go stock the roses," she said quickly, needing an excuse to leave.
She slipped into the back room, grabbing an armful of fresh roses. As she worked, her thoughts kept returning to Brandon Hartman. His name carried so much weight, yet the man she had met didn't seem as untouchable as the stories made him out to be.
When she returned to the front of the shop, Dorine was humming softly as she cleaned the counter. Catherine placed the roses on the shelf, arranging them neatly.
"What are you thinking about?" Dorine asked, glancing at her daughter.
"Nothing," Catherine said quickly, though it was far from the truth.
Her mother didn't press, and Catherine was grateful. She needed time to sort through the thoughts swirling in her head.
As the day went on, the shop grew busier. Catherine served customers with her usual warm smile, but her mind remained elsewhere.
She couldn't shake the feeling that Brandon's visit wasn't just a random moment. There had been something in his eyes, something heavy and unspoken. It was as if he carried a secret, one that threatened to spill over at any moment.
Catherine pushed the thought away, telling herself it was silly. Brandon Hartman was just another customer. He would likely never step into their shop again.
But deep down, she couldn't ignore the small voice whispering that this was only the beginning.