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“A real date? I thought we were keeping this casual.” A date was one step away from relationship territory. Dinner dates and long meaningful talks about the future—those were off the table.
“We are. But if you save me from lunch with one of Mount Pleasant’s single women, I’m buying you dinner.”
Sadie had never been the jealous type, but she had a competitive streak a mile long. She couldn’t win with her father, but taking on the women of Mount Pleasant?
“You’re on.”
9
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON, the sun still high above the Green Mountains, when Sadie arrived at the Summer Festival. People milled about Main Street, which had been closed to traffic. Some perused the tables set up by local businesses while others made their way to the tented food area by the stage. Her stomach grumbling, Sadie headed for the food, pausing to let a group of kids, mostly preteens if she had to guess, cross the road, each one leading a goat or sheep.
“They’re headed to the 4-H tent set up on the other side of city hall,” a blonde woman said. “Getting them ready for the parade. The llamas and the cows should already be over there. Anyone who showed an animal at the county fair two weeks ago is invited to march.”
“Oh,” she said. What else was there to say about goats marching through town? Sadie turned to the woman who’d appeared at her side, unsure if she should be grateful the cloud of perfume surrounding the blonde had overpowered the farm animal smell.
“I’m Cindy. And you must be Laurel’s sister.”
“Sadie. How did you know?”
“You have the wide-eyed look of someone who has never seen farm animals in town,” Cindy said. “I heard about the baby. Congratulations!”
The perfumed stranger wrapped her arms around Sadie and gave her a quick squeeze before stepping back. “I hope you’ll consider entering our raffle.”
“I was on my way to purchase tickets.” After food, she thought, but she could take a quick detour. “Where do I go?”
“Heading there myself. I’ll take you.” Cindy linked her arm through Sadie’s and started walking.
Sadie did her best to keep up, already regretting the strappy high-heeled sandals she’d chosen to wear with her fitted sundress. She might as well have pasted a sign on her back that read Not From Here. Most of the locals wore jeans and boots or sandals that bore a closer resemblance to flip-flops than high heels.
When they reached the raffle table, Cindy released her and slipped behind the table. A teenager, slightly older than the kids with the goats but still in braces, stood beside Cindy.
“Tickets are a dollar each and all the money goes to the school’s literacy program,” Cindy said. “How many would you like?”
“Five hundred?”
Cindy’s smile faltered and her eyes widened.
“I’m a big fan of literacy.”
“Or she’s met Logan,” the teen said.
“That is very generous of you.” Cindy had recovered her smile. “Certainly improves your chances. Cash or check?”
“Check.” Sadie withdrew her checkbook from her purse. “When is the drawing?”
“Seven tonight. Please make the check out to the Mount Pleasant Literacy Fund.” Cindy picked up a spool of tickets and began tearing. “Each side has a number printed on it. One goes in the bucket and you keep the other. We’ll select the winner before the band starts.”
“The Wild Bucks are playing tonight,” the teen supplied, as if Sadie should know the name. “They’re from Boston.”
“I’m from New York.”
“I know,” the teen said. “Everyone in town knows who you are.”
Sadie froze. No. It wasn’t possible. Aside from her family, her ex, a handful of people at her publisher and the group at the morning show, no one knew. Not yet.
“You’re Laurel’s twin,” the teen continued. “The one living at Aunt Lou’s. With Logan.”
Relief hit her fast and fierce. Her secret was safe. But soon, it wouldn’t be a secret. In a few weeks, she wouldn’t be identified as Laurel’s twin. Everyone she met would look at her and see MJ Lane, erotica writer.
