by AlLee, Jennifer L. ; Breidenbach, Angela; Franklin, Darlene
The lad referenced swore loudly and took a step forward, but the shorter one held him back. Paige gasped at the profanity.
“It’s my word against yours,” the first man countered. “And I say you was messin’ with my property. No doubt tryin’ to rig the livestock show in your favor.”
“I say we settle this right here and now.”
More expletives came from both sides. Paige had only heard of these kinds of words. Papa was right. They were not for a young lady’s ears. No wonder Mama kept her sheltered.
Paige held her breath. She looked around to see only a handful of kids and a few spectators who had gathered. Everyone else went about enjoying the fair. Why didn’t someone stop this? Didn’t they care? But instead of stepping away, she edged closer, drawn into the small crowd.
No sooner had she found a place than the shortest man threw the first punch with a sickening thud. Paige gasped and covered her mouth. It was three on two, unfair odds in her mind, but the two seemed to handle themselves fairly well. The crack of fist on flesh and bone made her cringe and close her eyes. She peered through one eye and then the other, almost not wanting to know how the fight progressed.
As one man tackled another and rammed them both into the ground, Paige jumped back. The violence had begun in a small area not far from the river, and it now expanded as the men swung at and dodged one another. Well-placed blows knocked them down and widened the circle of their dispute.
All right. She had seen enough. Why any man would engage in this type of atrocious, animalistic behavior was beyond her. Paige stepped back and turned away from the dreadful sight. She had almost made it to the safety of the greenhouse when the thump of one body hitting another caused her to look over her shoulder—just in time to see an airborne man headed her way.
Chapter 3
Andy Lawrence tucked his notepad into the left breast pocket of his suit jacket and let the door to the greenhouse slam shut behind him. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his handkerchief to mop his forehead and neck. Phew! That was one very warm interview. But he’d gotten a great story from one of the farmers’ wives on what led her to grow her now prize-winning evening primrose and orange day lilies. His editor would love it. Now, on to the culinary skills and creative craftsmanship at the Ag Hall … and maybe even another meeting with the tongue-tied beauty he’d met yesterday. But first, he had to find a telephone.
He turned the corner only to have the wind knocked out of him as his forward motion suddenly changed direction. His kerchief flew from his grasp and his hat followed suit. Sailing through the air for what felt like an eternity, Andy hit the ground—hard.
It took him a few moments to catch his breath and clear his head. Alternating dark spots and flashes of light passed across his vision. Vague awareness filtered through his mind as the shock wore off. Movement on top of him made him open his eyes. He propped himself on his elbows. Pain shot through his shoulder. As he tried to inch backward, he saw the mass of dark tresses splayed out on his chest, some pinned in a haphazard fashion on top of the woman’s head while others tumbled free from their confinement.
“Mmmm.”
The mumble came from somewhere within the tangle of hair, and the female form on top of him shifted. His senses took over, and he placed his hands around her as he attempted to move into a sitting position. Unable to do so with the weight of the other person, Andy instead slid out from under her and knelt beside her.
The young woman’s head rolled to the left and right, but she didn’t open her eyes. At least she looked all right. Then again, Andy had absorbed the majority of the impact. He glanced around to see what had caused her fall and saw the unruly bunch of men fighting not ten yards from where he and the young woman now rested. No one seemed to pay him or the woman any attention at all. They were too consumed by the outcome of the scuffle.
At another time in his life, Andy might have been tempted to get involved but not anymore. He turned his attention again to the young woman and smoothed back the hair from her face.
“Miss? Are you—”
He stopped as soon as he recognized her. The young lady he’d met at the Ag Hall. The one unable to talk. Andy hesitantly touched her cheek.
She stirred beneath his touch. Her eyelids fluttered then opened. She blinked several times, as if trying to gauge her surroundings. As soon as she focused on him, she sat up with a start and placed one hand on her chest.
“Oh! I am terribly sorry. Are you the one who broke my fall?”
Well, she obviously had no trouble talking now. Andy opened his mouth to reply, but the lyrical, polished sound of her voice left him speechless. It matched the warm depths of her brown eyes, like coffee with just a little bit of cream mixed in. The young woman didn’t seem to notice, though, as she continued speaking.
“It happened so suddenly.” She swept one arm outward in an arc around her body. “One moment I was minding my own business and heading back to the carnival area. The next I stopped to watch an awful display of immature behavior.” Her gaze stretched toward the ongoing fight. “Before I knew it, one of the men came flying toward me. I tried to escape, but it was too late.” She looked back at him, her dark eyes soft and apologetic. “If it hadn’t been for your opportune appearance, I might have been hurt a lot more.”
Opportune? Perhaps. He had just been wishing he’d get a chance to see her again. He didn’t expect it to be like this, though. Her head tilted to one side as she regarded him. A dimple appeared just to the right of her mouth, and she scrunched her eyebrows together in a most appealing manner. With a glance downward, Andy realized she still sat in a heap on the ground. Oh, good grief. He silently scolded himself as he stood and extended both hands to her.
“Forgive me for my poor manners. May I help you up?”
One corner of her mouth tugged upward, and amusement danced in her eyes. She offered her hand to him and accepted his assistance. When they were both on their feet facing each other, her head fell quite a few inches below his. He stood just over six feet and guessed her to be about a foot shorter. Andy took a step back to see her more clearly. No reason to make her crick her neck to look at him.
As much as he would have liked to stay and talk a bit longer, duty called.
“I’m sorry to rush off, but I was on my way to make a telephone call to my editor when we ran into each other.”
“Oh, you don’t need to apologize. It isn’t anyone’s fault I ended up using you as my cushion instead of the ground … well, except for maybe those hooligans over there.” She glanced again to the group of men who were the real cause of the delay and grimaced. “If it hadn’t been for my curiosity, neither of us would be in this mess.”
He wouldn’t exactly call it a mess. Under other circumstances, Andy might have been more upset. But he didn’t mind such a charming young woman delaying him a little.
He regarded her with a curious eye. “Well, as long as you’re all right.”
She brushed off her skirts, tugged down the edge of her dress, situated her beaded necklace, and reached up a hand to touch her hair. A wince crossed her delicate features followed by a resigned shrug as she no doubt realized the tangled mess was a lost cause.
“I’m fine, I assure you. Now, go make that call to your editor.” She pointed toward the Medical Aid Pavilion and Security building. “You’ll find a telephone in there.”
Andy bent to retrieve his hat from the street and slapped it on his head. “I’m headed to the Ag Hall after this to cover the judging there. Will you be present as well?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she replied.
“Perhaps I’ll see you there.”
“Perhaps,” she echoed.
As he started to dash off, he turned his head and called over his shoulder. “I hope the rest of your day ends up better than it started.”
The echo of her giggle reached his ears and made him smile. This day just got better and better. First, a solid piece on a local farmer’s wife, and then a ch
ance encounter with a rather charming brunette. Now, he’d give his editor a little taste of what was to come with his story, and then he’d make his way back to …
Oh no! Andy halted and did a quick about-face. He searched the crowds for any sign of the young lady. He’d been so distracted by their encounter and his desire to keep to his mental schedule, he’d forgotten to ask her for her name. That was twice now. Yesterday, when they’d met, he’d introduced himself, but neither one of the ladies had done the same. Here he’d seen her yet again, and he still didn’t know her name. Well, the next time he saw her, he’d remedy that immediately. There was no sign of her now.
As he resumed his path toward the nearest telephone, Andy made a mental jump ahead to that promotion his boss mentioned right before sending him north to this fair. He’d been working at the Denver Post for a little over fifteen years, once his days of peddling the paper on the streets of Denver led to his first real job. Paying attention and doing as he was told earned him a steady string of advancements from errand boy to typesetter to copyeditor and then to journalist. And he’d loved every bit of it.
“Can I help you, son?” A weathered security officer addressed him as soon as he stepped inside.
Andy removed his hat and stepped toward the front desk. “Yes, sir. I wonder if I might use your telephone. A friend told me I’d find one here. Got an important call to make to my editor.”
“Editor, huh?” the older gentleman remarked. “Does that make you one of those journalists coming from all over to write about our little fair here?”
Little fair? Was the man jesting or serious? “Not meaning any disrespect, sir, but your ‘little fair’ boasts one of the largest rodeos from here to Kansas City.” Andy chuckled. “I’d hardly call several thousand in attendance with over a hundred performers little.”
The officer shrugged. “It’s no Dallas or Coney Island, but we hold our own.” Then the man grinned, and Andy caught the twinkle in his eye.
He smiled. “Yes, you do, and I aim to showcase the best of the best in my coverage for the Denver Post.”
The officer gave him quick perusal from head to toe and seemed to be assessing him with that one glance. “See that you do, my boy,” he replied, not appearing to find reason to doubt him. He jerked a thumb toward a room on the left. “You’ll find the telephone in there. Close the door if you’d like to make your call in private.”
“Thank you.” Andy nodded and stepped into the room. After dropping his hat on the only table in the little room, he reached for the upright candlestick and lifted the receiver from the switch hook. He dialed through to the switchboard operator and gave his destination number then waited for the connection to complete.
“Lawrence, is that you?” came the voice of Harry Tammen over the line.
“Yeah, boss,” Andy replied. “I’m calling to let you know I got a great story from covering the flower and plant showcase here this morning. Real special interest piece.”
“Glad to hear it.” Throat clearing crackled along the wires. “I knew I made the right decision sending you up there. Seen any of those rodeo champions yet?”
Andy pressed the receiver tighter to his ear and leaned closer to the transmitter. “Not yet, but most of those performances aren’t until later in the week.”
“Don’t forget about that promotion,” Tammen reminded him. “Keep your mind on your job and stay focused.”
Andy leaned his hip against the table. It was as if the man could read his thoughts or somehow had his eyes on the fair to see the potential distraction that a dark-haired young lady could be. No, she’d be a pleasant diversion while he was there, but he wouldn’t allow it to drive him off course. That lead journalist position was too good to let it slip through his fingers.
“I’m counting on you to turn in some of your best work yet.”
As if he’d do anything less. “Won’t let you down, boss,” Andy promised.
“Very good.” Mumbling followed. “Uh, Lawrence, I have an appointment in five minutes, and he’s already here in the office. Going to say good-bye for now.”
Andy straightened and stared down at the candlestick then raised it off the desk and brought it close to his mouth. “Not a problem, Mr. Tammen. I have another judging showcase to attend.”
“Looking forward to what you come up with. Call again at the end of the week.”
“I will.” He set the telephone back on the table, returning the receiver to the switch hook.
Andy stared at the upright. His thoughts had definitely started drifting away from his assignment since yesterday. It wasn’t as if hers was the first pretty face he’d seen during his travels on assignment for the Post, and she certainly wouldn’t be his last. Good thing he’d made that call to his boss. It helped put things back in perspective and reminded him of his goal. Now, there were a few blue ribbon contenders waiting for their chance at a little black-and-white recognition. He’d better get on it.
Chapter 4
So, did you set out my jars like I asked?” Mama stood close, stretching her neck to see through the swarm of farmers’ wives gathered in the hall.
“Yes, Mama,” Paige replied. “Right in front of where the judges will stand when they come to those tables.” Some might frown upon giving the previous year’s prizewinners special placement, but she’d been put in charge of the culinary division, and the presentation of the entries was entirely her prerogative.
Mama wrung her hands in the folds of her cotton dress. Though she’d accompanied Paige to Cheyenne earlier in the year to purchase some newer dresses in a more modern style, Mama hadn’t bought anything for herself.
“Those pretty things might be worthwhile for visits to town or even wearing to church on Sundays,” she’d said. “But on the farm? My cotton and calico are much more durable.” Then, she’d leaned in and whispered to her daughter, “Besides, I can’t imagine tying an apron over one of those fancy dresses. And what would Papa think about me uncovering so much of my legs?”
“I don’t know, Mama. Papa might just appreciate it.”
And for that, Paige had received a playful swat on her arm as Mama blushed and turned away. Not before Paige had caught the twinkle in her eyes, though. Paige’s older two sisters might have married and left the farm, but Paige remained for now, and in the past four years, her relationship with her mother had grown tenfold. Sharing things like this judging experience at the fair had drawn them closer than ever.
“Oh, I don’t know if I can take it any longer, Paige,” Mama whispered. “When are they going to move on from the pickles and preserves to the jellies, cobblers, and pies?” She clenched the skirts of her dress so tightly, her knuckles were turning white.
Paige slipped her arm around Mama’s waist. “Don’t fret.” She pointed to where the judges made their final notations on their notepads. “There. See? I believe they’re finished with the first two tables.” She placed a comforting hand on Mama’s arm. “Now, I’m going to have to see to my duties and collect the results.” Paige caught sight of Millie, who wasn’t too far away, and nodded. “Millie’s going to come and stand with you, so you won’t have to be nervous alone.”
Mama barely acknowledged her, eyes trained solely on the tables at the front and the individual items the judges tasted. Millie appeared, and Paige smiled her thanks to her friend then moved to the front of the crowd to stand a few feet to the side of the judges. Mrs. Waverly moved behind them and approached Paige, silently handing her the notations from the first two rounds. Paige accepted the papers and lowered them to her side as Mrs. Waverly resumed her position near the trays of water used to cleanse the judges’ mouths between each bite.
As smoothly as the first two tables received their ultimate judgments, the remaining three displayed their wares for the discerning judges while the owners of the tasty samplings awaited the results. With just a small spoon and one tiny morsel, each of the three judges made their pass across the assorted variety and jotted down their thoughts
within seconds.
Paige recalled that very first year she oversaw this division. She’d foolishly spoken out about how quickly the judges came to a decision, when they only seemed to test such a small bit. After a soft reprimand from Mrs. Waverly and quiet observance of the proceedings, she came to realize experienced judges such as these didn’t need to eat much to know which offerings pleased the palate the most.
“You know, it’s a good thing they don’t deliberate too long over their conclusions,” a low voice spoke from just behind Paige’s right shoulder. “These farmers’ wives and self-proclaimed culinary experts might revolt.”
Paige turned her head and found the reporter she’d all but knocked out just a short while ago. What was his name? Aaron? Adam? Andrew? Andrew! That was it. Andrew Lawrence. “Shh,” she whispered. “You’re going to distract the judges. And Mrs. Waverly will not stand for that.”
Mr. Lawrence peered around her, as if searching for the woman she’d mentioned, then rocked back on his heels and chuckled. “Appreciate the warning,” he whispered in return. “I certainly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of her glares.”
Paige pressed her lips into a thin line to avoid the giggle that threatened to escape. He’d just given words to the very thoughts in her head on numerous occasions while working with Mrs. Waverly over the years. Yet, stern though she might be, she got the job done, and that was all that mattered.
The reporter shifted his stance, and his arm brushed against hers. He stood close enough for his warm breath to stir some of those loose tendrils of hair that had escaped their pins during her fall earlier. One or two strands lightly tickled her cheek. A tiny shiver traveled up her back, and she raised her arm to hide it. With a few tucks, she managed to confine the few rebellious wisps.