by Tegan Maher
Blushing, he squeezed me and kissed my temple. "Hush. I already have a fan, and she's a handful. I don't need another one. Now go make some money, woman."
I laughed and headed toward the millennial couple checking out my wares. She was pointing at the smaller accent pieces hanging on the pegboard, and chattering about where they could put them. She had a plate with funnel cake covered in powdered sugar and strawberries, and that's all it took for Max to rouse himself from a sunny spot where he'd been sleeping. A pretty girl and a plate of junk food were just too much for him to resist.
"Aww," the girl said, bending down to scratch Max behind his ears. "Aren't you adorable!" He sniffed her plate, and she grinned. "Do you like elephant ears, little guy?"
He gave her the biggest brown-eyed mini-donkey eyes you could imagine and blinked, his long, silky eyelashes catching the sunlight. That did it; she ripped off a piece of the strawberry-coated deliciousness and fed it to him.
"Good Lord," Matt said, shaking his head. "There's no way he had that much luck with the ladies when he was a man."
"Or maybe he did," Hunter replied, arms crossed as he watched. "That is, after all, what landed him in his pickle to begin with."
Max had been a sixteenth century noble and had taken an Irish witch as his mistress. She'd been a tad upset when she caught him with his hands on another corset, and cursed him into a body she felt more accurately reflected his true self.
They ended up buying one of the shelving units along with a couple of smaller things, and I was feeling pretty good about myself.
"You're welcome," Max said, flicking his tail and licking powdered sugar off his lips as he walked by.
"For what?" I asked, brows raised.
"For softening them up." He trotted back to his spot in the sun, circled, and lay back down.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't really say anything because, even though the only prize his eye was on was the food, chances were good he was right.
A few minutes later, Justin came barreling down the aisles between tents, dodging people as he made his way toward us waving a blue ribbon almost as big as he was. "We won the brisket, Noe! Anna Mae, guys, we won!" He was vibrating with excitement, and grinning ear to ear.
"No way—lemme see!" I said as we made a fuss over the giant, three-tailed ribbon, and listened as he gave us a play-by-play.
"We were worried. He made three, but two of ’em looked like they mighta had just a little too much bark, but when he cut into the third, we knew we were at least in the money, then he let me carry it up, and I almost tripped!"
His eyes were wide with the memory of the retelling.
"Bout gave him a heart attack, but he caught my 'fore I went down. Boy, would thata sucked! But we got it there just under the wire! I knew he'd win. Earl's got the best brisket in the state and now we got the ribbon to prove it!"
He pointed to the center tail on the ribbon, where it clearly said Best Brisket.
"Yup," Anna Mae said, running her fingers over the gold letters. "Says it right there!"
"Okay, I gotta go show Billy!" He left us in the dust before we could even say goodbye, and Anna Mae smiled.
"It sure is good to see him so happy. When I think where he was a year ago ...," she shivered.
We'd rescued Justin from a horrible foster home, and he'd stayed with me at the farm for a while, then Bobbie Sue and Earl were approved to adopt him. Now, nine months later, you'd never guess he wasn't born to them, and it made my heart happy. He still hung out at the farm at least a day or two a week, and was one of the best-hearted kids I'd ever met. Kids are resilient.
Anna Mae rearranged some of her items and brought out a few more to fill the empty spots. We'd both had a good sales day, and I hoped Bobbie Sue was having the same luck. She brushed her hands off after arranging a washboard she'd decorated with ribbons and flowers.
"I'm super glad we decided to come up," she said. "It seems like we haven't spent any time together lately, and Matt was going stir-crazy."
"Lemme guess—the bossman's drivin' him crazy?" She'd dropped a piece when she was refilling the case and I bent down to pick it up and handed it to her without really looking at it.
Tilting her head, she took the jewelry from me and I paid closer attention. It was the same piece that had dropped earlier.
"That's just weird," she said, putting it back in the case, but higher up where she couldn't accidentally catch it and pull it out again.
"So," I said, resuming the conversation. "Bossman's being a PITA?"
She nodded. "Matt kinda created a monster. When he suggested they expand into doing new-builds instead of just remodels, he had no idea it was going to take off the way it did, and now he feels pressured to step up into a foreman's job."
I shook my head. "He shouldn't. They knew when he signed on to help them get it back up and running after Max died that he had zero interest in dealing with clients. I'm sure Em's fine with that."
Emily Wheeler, of Wheeler Construction, had needed somebody to get her company back up and running when her husband Max was murdered. Even though Max had hung around to enjoy post-life with his family rather than crossing over—at least after he bugged the crap out of us until we solved his murder—he was a lot like Addy. No body meant he had plenty of time to be bossy.
Matt was an Iraqi vet who had a nasty case of PTSD but a head full of valuable information about the construction industry and was as honest as the day is long. He'd agreed to help as a consultant as long as he could remain behind the scenes.
She sighed. "Yeah, but you know how he is, sugar. He thinks the world sits right square on his shoulders and it's his responsibility to carry it."
I hummed in agreement. He was the same with the farm, and with the people in his life. When Gabi, another good friend who'd moved into the farmhouse with us a few months back, had been attacked on the property, he'd blamed himself just because he wasn't there at the time.
"Work around that, then. If they're makin' that much money, convince him to hire another foreman." Em's son-in-law Jared had stepped up to the plate and was willing to run the company, but he didn't have the know-how Matt did, so they worked in tandem.
Matt was teaching him what he could, and Jared was taking classes and working as the front man when it came time to deal with clients and employees on a more than cursory basis. In other words, they were both stretched thin.
"Max is fightin' doin' that because he says it's a waste of money," she said. "But they're gonna have to. Especially since Louise is about to pop."
Louise was Jared's wife—Em and Max's daughter—and had found out she was pregnant right around the same time her dad was killed. That was another reason he'd chosen to stick around—he wanted to see his first grandbaby.
It was great that our extended family was going to extend a little further, but it added a couple of complications. First and foremost, she was Bobbie Sue's general manager. Bobbie had hired her on when she moved back to Keyhole Lake, and now that she and Earl had adopted Justin, they no longer wanted to spend twelve hours a day, seven days a week at the restaurant.
Fortunately, Sarah, a girl who'd worked there for nearly five years, was a great backup and knew the store inside out. In fact, she'd taken a vacation with her family that week so she could pick up the slack when Louise went on maternity leave the following week. All the details were ironed out, and the plan was in place.
There was only one problem. Nobody'd bothered to ask the baby if the plan suited him.
CHAPTER NINE
BY THE TIME WE WRAPPED it up for the day, I was beat but wanted to go to the carnival. We hadn't gone to bed until two a.m. because of the party, then the day had gotten hot. Anna Mae and I had taken turns going up to see how Bobbie Sue and Earl were doing, and they were kicking butt.
As the crowds thinned, Anna Mae started pulling her jewelry from her display case.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "You're not leaving are you?"
She looked at
me, surprised. "No, but I don't want to leave it out overnight in case somebody gets a case of the sticky fingers."
I cocked a brow and hmphed. "You're kidding, right?" I glanced around to make sure we were alone, then twirled a finger at the ties on the tent. The sides slipped into place, obscuring us from view. With a few words, a shimmer settled over everything in the tent, and I smiled. "Now, nobody's going to bother anything. It's locked down tight as a drum. They may try, but trust me—there's nothing leaving this tent."
As a final measure, I pointed toward each gap in the flaps, running a finger from top to bottom, leaving only one open so we could get out. Once we were outside, I said a few words and sealed it, too.
She grinned. "Fine, Miss Smarty Pants, but what if I need to get something?"
I motioned toward the flap Vanna-White style and she pulled up the flap, easy peasy.
"I don't get it," she said, he brow knitted. "I thought you just locked it."
Laughing, I nudged her with my elbow. "I did, silly, but only against people who aren't us. It's hard to explain, but it's something Addy taught us as kids because we kept losing our house keys. Instead of locking the door, she just warded the house so that only people who were supposed to be there could get in."
"Oh," she said. "Slick. You reckon you could do that to the store? I've lost my keys half a dozen times since I opened up."
"Sure, sweetie. Just remind me when we get home." Hunter and Matt had been off checking out the car show that was happening on the other end of the grounds, but came around the corner of the tent just as we were gathering our purses from the truck.
"Hey, handsome," I said, bumping him with my shoulder. "How was the car show? Is it worth the walk?"
"Only if you like a ton of old muscle cars and rat rods all in one place," he said, grinning.
"Oh, then that sounds just terrible." I rolled my eyes. "If you don't mind taking a second look, maybe we can check it out tomorrow."
"Tomorrow will actually be better, because they're bringing more in. Judging is at four."
Anna Mae sighed. "I just don't get it. A car's a car."
I gasped in fake outrage and the guys smiled. "You hush your mouth and take that back," I told her.
She lifted a shoulder and smiled. "You're hopeless. I've given up on girlifying you, but you still like ice cream and some chick flicks, so I'll let you keep your girl card another day."
"Speaking of eating," I said, "did you guys fill up on junk, or do you still have room for dinner and a funnel cake?"
Hunter slung an arm around me as we turned toward the carnival. "I'll have you know we didn't have any junk food. We had a couple hot dogs."
I pinched his ribs. "Yeah, those aren't junk at all. You know they're made of chicken lips and pig butts, right?"
Matt coughed, hiding a laugh. "First, they were all beef, so it was probably cow tongues and eyeballs, and second, I was in the Army and lived through Ranger training, then spent three years in one desert or another. I've seen the day when I would have killed for something that didn't have wiry little legs that were still squirming when I bit into it. Junk food is subjective."
How could I possibly argue with that, especially considering I loved a good hotdog, chicken lips and all? "Fair enough."
Anna Mae was cringing a little, apparently still stuck on the thought of eating bugs. He squeezed her. "What?" he said as she shivered. "I brushed my teeth. A week later."
She laughed and wrinkled her nose. "Mm. He's hot, eats bugs, and brushes his teeth at least once a week. My dream man."
"Zip it, woman," he said as he leaned down and gave her a quick kiss while we walked. "You're lucky to have me."
She blushed, and leaned into him, her eyes gleaming. "Yup. Bug breath and all."
"Hey, you bunch of mannerless heathens; wait for me!"
I looked back at Max's voice, and laughed as he trotted toward us, ears flopping and bouncing every which way.
"Sorry, dude," Hunter said. "We didn't realize you wanted to come. You were out like a light in the trailer."
He donkey-scowled at us, his furry eyebrows creating a ridge over his eyes. "Yes, well you didn't bother to ask though, did you? No! Leave the donkey behind."
I pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. "Cut the drama already and let's go. We didn't leave you behind on purpose and we're sorry we didn't wake you to ask."
He hmphed as he slowed to a walk beside me. "I suppose you're forgiven. If you buy me a candy apple."
Food. I should have known. "Of course we'll buy you a candy apple," I said in an attempt to smooth his feathers.
"And some of that delicious fried dough the young lady gave me this morning."
"Fine," I said, "But when you're sick, I don't want to hear it. And no scotch if you do the funnel cake. I'm not staying up all night with you because you colic."
"Just the candy apple then," he said after a brief pause. Yeah, I figured.
We slipped through the rows of closed tents and covered tables, following the scent of cotton candy and fried foods until we came out on the carnival side of the fair. The neon lights were flashing around the rides and games, though it wasn't as bright as it would be in another hour once full night descended.
"Where first?" Anna Mae asked. "I wanna ride the Ferris wheel."
I snorted, eyeballing the giant wheel of death. "Knock yourself out. I'm not gettin' on that thing."
Matt gave me a sideways look. "You don't like the Ferris wheel?"
"Nope," I said, popping the P. "I'm not sitting six stories in the air in a bucket held onto a spinning wheel by a couple of bolts that were probably tightened—or not—by some stoned teenager."
I had a cousin who'd dropped out of high school to be a carny worker. The minute he called me while simultaneously smoking a joint and assembling one of the rides, I'd sworn never to ride anything that came off the ground again.
Anna Mae looked at me, amazed. "But you ride your motorcycle at a hundred miles an hour."
"Yes, I do," I said, "But I know every inch of that bike. I wear safety gear. I drive it myself. I do regular safety checks. None of those factors apply to anything you see here."
"So it's a control thing," she said, giving me a knowing glance.
I lifted a shoulder. "Call it whatever you wanna call it. I ain't gettin' on the Ferris wheel, or that bullet thing, or anything else that can drop me eight stories or sling me into the next county when something breaks loose," I said, casting a wary glance at the topmost swinging bucket. When the controller started it again, the one on the bottom squeaked as it pivoted on its bolts.
Hunter shuddered beside me. I knew we shared our distrust of rides, so when he said, "You guys go on. I don't wanna talk her into anything she doesn't want to do. We'll catch up to you later," I couldn't help but tease him a little.
I shook my head and gave him my sweetest smile. "Aww, you're so sweet, but I don't wanna ruin it for you. Go ride with them if you want; I'll chill with Max."
He tried to hide his glare, while Anna Mae and Matt waited. "Nah, I'd rather spend the evening with you two."
Once they were gone, I gave him a little shove on the shoulder. "You hate those things as much as I do."
He grinned. "I know, but there wasn't any need for us both to look like a chicken."
"Well c'mon then, man and donkey 'o mine," I said, looping my arm through his and laying my hand on Max's head. "Let's find something fun to do on the ground. Maybe we'll try our hand at a couple of the games, then chow down on some healthy chicken on a stick."
"For what it's worth," Max said, glaring at a woman who nearly pushed her stroller over him, "I wandered over here while you were setting up the tent this morning, and your distrust is well placed. There was a distinct lack of supervision during assembly."
I glanced down at him, surprised that he hadn't taken the opportunity to rib me. "Did you just say I was right? Max, I think it's time for a candy apple!"
CHAPTER TEN
AFTER LOSING A BUTT load of money, Hunter finally won me a multi-colored teddy bear and we decided to check out the petting zoo since Max had never seen a llama, either. "It looks like a cross between a donkey and some kind of bird," he said. I suppose I could see that if I tilted my head just right and squinted.
When we walked past the fainting goats, Max laughed out loud, which of course came out as a bray and made the goats fall over. That caught the attention of several of the kids who were checking out the other animals, and two little girls of about five rushed up to him.
"Be nice," I warned when he gave them the stink eye. He wasn't exactly a kid person, not that I could blame him.
"Look, Mommy," one of them said, putting her cotton-candy hands on Max's neck. "A baby donkey!"
Her twin sister actually laid her caramel apple on Max's rump before trying to climb on. That was more than enough, especially considering poor Max was gritting his teeth but taking it. I picked up the wannabe cowgirl and set her back several feet from him. "Honey, he's with us. He isn't part of the petting zoo."
Rushing up to us with a double stroller filled with stuffed toys and half-eaten bags of cotton candy, she apologized and scooped the red-faced future rodeo queen up by the waist. "I'm so sorry! Katie, Kimmy, leave the nice lady and her donkey alone!"
Both girls puckered up and Katie, the one who'd tried to ride Max, started howling and reaching for her apple, which was now a gooey, hairy mess. Max was glowering at the mother, and in a fit of pique, twisted so that the apple fell to his feet, then proceeded to chomp into it.
That sent the kid into a red-faced, screaming fit. She stiffened her spine, busting her mom square in the nose with the back of her head. The blood flowed almost as fast as the stream of curses that accompany the pain of a busted nose, and she reflexively dropped the kid, head first.
Before I even knew what I was doing, I flung my hands out to catch the little brat, and the entire place froze except for Max, Hunter, and I.
Utter silence surrounded us.
"Well," Max said around a mouthful of caramel apple, "this is new."