To Get Me to You (Wishful 1)

“Strong backs are more than welcome.”

Chelsea flashed a satisfied smile. “Aaaaand I called up our sister chapter at MSU to set up a little friendly competition. They should be here, right about…now.” She pointed to the opposite side of the green where a second string of vehicles led by a Toyota flying maroon and white window flags was coming to a stop at the opposite curb.

Norah swung an arm around the girl’s shoulders and sent up a prayer of thanks. “Chelsea, you’re a woman after my own heart.”

It took another half hour for everybody to park. They far outstripped the space available on Church Street. By the time everybody had walked back to the green, cars were lining the entire downtown area, including all the cross streets, and the crowd had swelled to nearly twice the force she’d originally expected.

Norah took up her bullhorn again. “Before we get started today, I’d like to offer up a warm Wishful welcome to the Delta Gammas from Ole Miss!” The girls cheered. “The Sigma Chis from Ole Miss!” The guys hooted and shouted. “And the Delta Gammas from Mississippi State!” The girls hollered and clapped. “I’d like to thank you all so much for coming. For those of you who don’t know, my name is Norah Burke, and I’m your de facto general for the day. Now that the remainder of our army has arrived, here’s our revised plan.”

Norah took great pleasure in the sour expression on Vick’s face as she laid out the full scope of her vision. She took even more in the infectious enthusiasm of her cavalry as it spread to the locals.

“Before you leave today, each of you should stop by and see Richard Patton to give your name and T-shirt size. Richard wave for everybody.” The wiry, balding owner of the print shop lifted a hand. “You’ll be getting a free commemorative shirt for your efforts! And now I’m going to turn you over to Molly Montgomery, who will divide you into groups.” Norah stepped down and handed off the bullhorn.

Cam fell into step with her as she circled around the crowd. “Not to be a bu

zz kill, but who’s going to pay for all those shirts?”

“I intend to sweet talk all the local businesses who are getting makeovers today into donating toward the effort. Their logos will go on the shirt. That’s two hundred and fifty walking advertisements out there, to go along with the free labor. That’s what you call a good investment. We’re going to pull this off in spades. Vick can just stick that in his pipe and smoke it.”

~*~

It got worse before it got better. Old awnings came down, old paint was knocked off with the dirt when many of the buildings were washed, and more than one downtown business was in total chaos, filled with bodies shifting displays, cleaning, rearranging stock. Cam hoped like hell none of their volunteers decided to employ the five-finger discount.

Norah caught him staring in horror at all the furniture being hauled out of Lickety Split and turned him firmly away. “It’s all getting repainted.”

Similar forms of disorder appeared to be going on inside every business. “The chaos, it burns.” He shuddered

“I know, I know. The disorganization offends your sensibilities. There is a plan for each and every one. I swear. Tyler, Mitch, and I worked it out before we ever started.”

“If you say so.” He didn’t bother to hide the skepticism.

She gave him a smacking kiss. “Go play in the dirt and leave the organizing to us. And maybe use the opportunity to charm some of your compatriots on the Council.” She nodded to where Grace Handeford and Hank van Buren were listening closely as Violet instructed them on the proper means of planting a multi-season hanging basket. “I had Molly put them on your team, just in case.”

“Sneaky sneaky. I like that about you.”

With a saucy wink she left him, calling out for Dillon, who had a pair of chairs from the ice cream parlor tucked under either arm.

Cam crossed over to join his official crew for the day.

He had twenty people to manage, most of whom were regulars at the nursery. Four of them were on the Black List and not allowed to touch any plants they hadn’t already paid for—per Violet’s orders. Since the object of this project was downtown beautification, Cam wasn’t going to argue with her. It wouldn’t do for everything those folks planted to wither up and die in two days, as their track records suggested. He put them to work mounting the special brackets they’d ordered on the light posts running the length of Main Street. Violet had the hanging basket and planter folks well in hand, so the remaining few were designated tree planters. Which would’ve been fine if the damned tree spade on the Bobcat hadn’t blown a valve. With that one, single problem, a couple hours of work turned into an impossible task.

“Son of a bitch.” Cam slapped a hand against the Bobcat.

“Having a bit of bad luck there, Crawford?”

Cam turned and tensed as he caught sight of Roy McKennon. He looked rough, but sober in Carhartts and a flannel shirt. Had he been here from the start? Cam couldn’t remember. He hadn’t seen Roy since Liam’s welcome home party, and he didn’t imagine that the other man had changed his opinion on what Cam was trying to do regarding GrandGoods. Was he angry enough to try to sabotage the equipment?

“Little equipment malfunction, as it happens.” Cam kept his tone neutral.

Roy looked from the Bobcat to the nursery truck, where more than a dozen trees waited to be planted. “You ain’t gonna get that done with whatcha got.”

That was the plain truth, and Cam couldn’t argue it. He’d have to go track down Norah, see if she wanted them to try to put in what they could the old-fashioned way or hold off until he could get the tree spade repaired. “It’s always somethin’.

“Reckon you could use some strong backs.”

“Sorry?”

“I happen to know some.” The older man turned and whistled.