Free The Promise of Rainbows by Ava Miles

was still beyond him to understand why.
    “You should get us flowers more often, Uncle Rye,” Annabelle added.
    “I might if y’all stopped hearing them talk,” he muttered. “Freaks this good ol’ boy out.”
    “Are you complaining about the flowers talking again, sugar?” Tammy said, stepping away from cutting a heap of peppers. “Hello, Jake. I see Annabelle has taken you in hand again. Literally. Let go of the man’s hand for a bit, honey, so Jake can greet everybody.”
    “Indeed she has,” he commented, leaning down to kiss Tammy’s cheek as the little girl stepped back.
    This quiet Southern lady had always charmed him, and he couldn’t be happier that his friend had found such a perfect partner. She’d listened to Jake’s vision of the land surrounding his home and helped him plant his roots there. Come spring, he couldn’t wait to see Redemption Ridge in all her glory. He hoped to feel more settled by then.
    As if summoned by his thoughts, his beautiful decorator strolled into the kitchen with her two sisters and thrust out her hand for what seemed like a professional handshake. He shook it lightly, aware of the eyes on them. Susannah’s skin was so soft and warm against his that he didn’t want to let go. She hadn’t changed clothes from church and looked more beautiful than ever.
    “You should kiss him on the cheek, Aunt Susannah,” Annabelle suggested. “It makes a person feel more welcome.”
    Susannah’s cheeks turned pink, and Jake fought the urge to clear his throat.
    Tammy gave him a strained smile. “She gets that from school. Annabelle, shaking hands is just fine for some people, and it’s best to let them decide how they wish to greet each other.”
    “But kissing is always better, Mama. Uncle Rye says so.”
    Tammy gave her daughter a look before turning to Rye. “Your uncle was mostly talking about family members, and you know he’s a kidder.”
    “But sometimes Uncle Rye is right,” Annabelle said with a stomp of her foot.
    Rye swung her into his arms. “Thank you, darlin’. Now, let’s go find a vase for your rose so it won’t die of thirst.”
    “Oh, Uncle Rye,” she drawled, waving at Jake as her uncle carried her across the kitchen.
    Jake shook Shelby and Sadie’s hands too. It would seem awkward to hug them after being so cool and professional with Susannah.
    J.P. strode into the kitchen, accompanied by a gray-haired man wearing a green polo shirt. “You remember my stepfather, Dale.”
    “Yes. Good to see you, sir.”
    “And you,” the older man said.
    Then Reverend Louisa appeared right beside her husband, and after a quick glance, Jake noticed she had a cat-who-got-the-cream smile on her face.
    “I’m happy you could join us, Jake,” she said, leaning in to hug him without so much as a warning.
    He tensed up as she patted his back. “Ma’am…Reverend.” He was getting flustered. “What would you prefer I call you?”
    “Louisa would be lovely,” she commented.
    Tory appeared with the bouquet of yellow roses he’d brought. “You mentioned that each woman was supposed to receive a flower.”
    Had he? He must have been demented. “I…ah…thought it was more…symbolic-like.”
    Annabelle jumped out of her uncle’s arms. “Hold that vase, Uncle Rye. Jake. Here. Let me help you.” She set her flower on the kitchen counter and proceeded to hand him the first rose.
    The Reverend—Louisa—held out her hand while he stood there like an idiot. He extended the first flower to her, and the rest of the women lined up to take theirs. Susannah was the last one to take a rose. Giving it to her felt more than symbolic. It felt right .
    He wished he could give her a wheelbarrow full of them, enough to perfume her home and make her dream of him when she rested her head on her pillow at night.
    Susannah’s moss-green eyes met his, and for a moment, he didn’t feel his feet. His clumsy fingers almost let the rose fall.
    “Careful, Jake!” Annabelle