Page 36 of Sweet Devotion

That earned him the briefest flash of a smile before the next scene came into view and he realized the word baby was a matter of perspective.

Both hands fluttering in the air like startled doves, Abigail Fine stood in the middle of the walkway. Her hat had slipped sideways, one earring dangled lower than the other, and her cheeks glowed with a suspicious amount of color. Around her, at least three women talked at once and two teenage girls crouched peering under one table then another.

“Oh my precious Shoo Shoo!” Abigail cried. “My Choufleur!”

Frowning, Colleen glanced sideways at him. “Did she just call that dog cauliflower?”

“If I’m remembering my high school French, yes.” He supposed that explained the nickname Shoo Shoo, but who in their right mind named a dog after cauliflower? Then again, he may have answered his own question.

Colleen nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“Oh my precious Choufleur.” Abigail’s face crumpled in near agony.

It took everything in Aiden not to burst out laughing at the woman’s histrionics.

“Where did you last see her?” Colleen used that calm tone that could probably talk a raging bull into sitting down for tea.

Abigail blinked. “Right here.” Hiccup. “By the candied pecans. Or the kettle,” hiccup, “corn. Maybe both. She was twirling.”

Aiden figured it was best to ignore the signs of having had more than a sip or two of her own homemade wine and focus on what happened to her dog before he went looking for his own charge. “Twirling?”

Abigail nodded emphatically, which looked like a mistake. “She gets excited around music. And men in boots. And anything with feathers.”

“Feathers?” Colleen repeated, her expression mimicking his thoughts. This was going to be a long search and rescue.

Satisfied the problem was not one of life or death, most of the onlookers had dispersed, returning to their afternoon fun. Aiden wondered how awful would it be if he and Colleen did the same—after they found Romeo.

One of the teenage girls popped back up from under a table. “She’s not under the pie booth.”

“She’s not under the bean bag game either,” the other called out.

“How much space can a dog that size cover?” Aiden looked around.

Abigail’s hand flew to her chest. “Size means nothing. My Shoo Shoo has spirit.”

“Yes. Spirit.” At his side, Colleen was doing her best not to laugh.

Another teen appeared. “She’s not by the popcorn machine or the petting zoo. Do you think a hawk or coyote took her?”

“Hawk?” All the color drained from Abigail’s face.

Aiden shook his head. “With all these people around a hawk is very unlikely.” No point in mentioning if the dog got far enough away from the crowd, either guess could be right.

“I just heard.” Alice Sweet appeared, her expression dripping with concern. “How long has she been gone?”

“I,” hiccup, “don’t know.”

Instantly, Alice’s brows shot up and her gaze shifted to Aiden and Colleen.

Like a pair of matching choreographed bookends, they both shrugged at Alice.

“Well,” Aiden started, “we’re not going to find her standing around here. Does she have a favorite place or person near here that she’d go looking for?”

“Or perhaps there’s too much commotion and some place she might try to hide?” Colleen added.

Abigail was either trying to find an answer to the question or pass a kidney stone, Aiden couldn’t tell which.

“She likes to sip wine from empty cups,” Abigail finally commented.