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She pasted on a faux-smile despite the ice that remained hard in her eyes.
“Guess you’re just lucky that way. I save it up. All for you.”
“Well, in that case, I’m flattered.”
Rory sighed.
“If I give you food, will you go away?”
“Probably,” I replied. “I should be getting back to work pretty soon.”
Finally, she relented, stuffing a Bread & Butter Bakery paper bag with a dozen cheddar bagels. Then she shoved it into my chest with enough force that I rocked back on my heels.
“Have a great day,” Rory said through her teeth in a flat voice.
I handed over my payment. After counting it, she stowed it in her cash box and turned away. I cleared my throat. Rory flicked her gaze toward me, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
I held out my palm, waiting. She growled and slapped a blueberry muffin into my hand.
“I appreciate it very much, darlin’,” I said with a smile.
She waved me off.
“I fed you. Now, go.”
She returned her attention to the customers crowded around the booth, greeting an elderly woman with a red cap and a bouquet of flowers tucked into the crook of her arm.
“Good morning, Mrs. Galligan! I was beginning to wonder where you were. I always look forward to seeing you here at the Farmer’s Market. Would you like your usual cherry custard tart and a loaf of French bread? I made sure the crust is extra crisp, just the way you like it.”
I stood back, watching the way Rory transformed when she thought I was no longer around. She brought out the best in people, immediately putting them at ease with her conversation, remembering details about them, asking about their lives in a way that seemed more friendly than intrusive. It made me want to try harder to be someone she didn’t hate.
Then again, I had a habit of opening my big mouth when I was around her and doing everything in my power to get her to despise me.
As I started to leave, a flutter of paper caught my attention. I glanced down to see a stack of flyers, teased by the breeze, held down by a basket of golden-brown dinner rolls. A sign next to the stack said: please take one!
The flyer depicted an illustration of a juicy blackberry pie, bursting with berries. Across the top, in bold, arching letters, it read, Ash Ridge Rodeo Pie Auction, Saturday, June 1st, 6pm. At the bottom of the flyer, smaller print gave further details.
Donate a pie to be sold at auction to the highest bidder! All proceeds go to hungry families in need.
I slid a flyer out from underneath the basket and tucked it in my back pocket. There was no doubt in my mind that Rory had donated a pie to that auction. And I was determined to be the lucky winner who took it home.
Chapter Two
Rory
With the rodeo coming up next week, I spent every spare minute perfecting the recipe I planned to use for the pie auction. On Sunday morning, I was in the cramped little kitchen of my apartment, coated up to the elbows in flour as I rolled out a crust. A saucepan of pie filling simmered on the stove, smelling mouth-watering-good, with juicy peaches, sweet brown sugar, earthy bourbon, and warm cinnamon.
“Spill the beans already,” I demanded. “How is married life treating you?”
My best friend, Melody, was seated at a small folding table on the opposite side of the kitchen—as far away from my baking mess as she could get. An array of fabrics and ribbons were piled on the table like a colorful cloud as she studiously stitched away on a blue gingham sundress.
A dreamy smile of contentment spread across Melody’s face and she sighed.
“It’s wonderful. I thought sharing a house with Will would be more challenging than it is. You know, settling in, getting used to living together, adjusting to each other’s routines. But it’s like having a sleepover every day.”
A bittersweet pang filled my chest. Melody had found her happily ever after with her dad’s best friend, despite the fourteen-year age gap between them. I couldn’t help feeling a little left behind, watching her fall head over heels in love, get engaged, get married. I’d had my fair share of relationships over the years, but nothing that came close to the bliss Melody had with her Will.
Maybe I never would.
