decorating her floral shop and into the back room. She checked her watch. It was much earlier than she’d expected to be here. It appeared neither of them had wanted to stay at the house and continue their conversation. But what exactly had Peter been thinking? Normal people didn’t indulge in fantasy role play—did they? She’d have to ponder that, perhaps ask Julie and Deirdre. She and her sisters discussed nearly everything. Curiosity about their sex lives wouldn’t be overstepping the bounds of their relationship.
Until then, the only thing to do was to plunge forward with the flowers for the Anderton wedding. Meghan stared at the door of the cooler. Stepping foot in there would require more courage than she could muster at the moment. Shopping around for contractors was on the top of her to-do list, as soon as their offices opened in another hour.
Chelsea wasn’t expected in until this afternoon. Meghan couldn’t wait until then to start the rest of the floral arrangements. She stared at the door, the fear gripping her.
“Hey, sis.”
Deirdre’s voice jumped her and turned her fear to anger. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, good morning to you too.” Deirdre stamped her boots on the floor, sending snow flying in all directions as she walked into the back office. “I’m dropping off some plow receipts and a couple of checks for Julie.” She poked her head back around the corner “Tomorrow’s Saturday, right?” Deirdre ducked back into the office. “Julie’ll be here to do the books.”
Meghan shouldn’t have lost her temper, after all this was her sister’s business too. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m a little grouchy. Peter came home last night, and I didn’t get much sleep.” She didn’t want to admit that going in the cooler was putting her a little on edge as well, but with Dee here, at least there was no chance of getting stuck. Meghan grabbed the stool, propped open the door, and quickly retrieved a bucket of flowers. “He drove through that storm last night.”
“Yeah?” Deirdre laid her gloved hand on the door of the cooler.
“Yes, he couldn’t wait to get home to make made passionate love to me.” Meghan strutted by her sister carrying the heavy bucket of hydrangeas, trying to act more brave than she felt. The chill of the cooler had started her heart hammering.
Deirdre held up a hand. “Stop. Those buckets are heavy.” Her voice softened. “There’s no need for you to go in there, Meg.” She squeezed Meghan’s shoulder. “Tell me what you need. I’ll get them.”
“That’s silly, Dee, I’m perfectly capable…”
“Just shut up, dear sister, I’m trying to be nice. How about if you let me?”
Relief relaxed her shoulders. Sometimes Deirdre did understand. “Thanks. All the buckets I need are in a little group by the first set of shelves.”
Dee disappeared into the cooler. “I was just over at the pharmacy, plowing. When who should drive up but none other than Doc McCarty.” She set a bucket of lilies on the floor. “He was picking up Daddy’s medicine and bringing it over to Mum.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little weird, even for a small-town doctor?”
Dee lifted a shoulder before heading back for more flowers. “Meghan, it’s what friends do for each other.” The same buckets of roses and cymbidium that Meghan had used last night joined the rest of the flowers.
“But he just seems a little too chummy with Mum when they’re together. Haven’t you noticed?”
“I think you’re seeing something that’s not there.”
Meghan lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. It seems a little off, that’s all.”
“I think, big sister, that you’re reading more into this than is there.” Dee pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “Anything else?”
“The mums and mint baby carnations.” Meghan wasn’t convinced. “It just seems he’s spending so much time at the house.”
Dee set down the rest of the flowers and looked at her sister, deep