Page 31 of For Love of Liberty

“How could I forget?” Bettie said with a sly chuckle. “You had razor burn for a solid week.”

Razor burn. Liberty’s eyelids shuddered closed, experiencing a little “razor burn” herself, slicing right through her heart.

Jo Beth released a heavy sigh. “I know, and don’t forget Milo told you Finn wouldn’t even think about marriage until his land was free and clear and the silver mine up and running. Well, his loan is almost paid off—”

“Thanks to you,” Bettie interjected, “sealing the deal with the best rate in town.”

Sealing the deal. Liberty slowly sank onto a hay bale while tears welled in her eyes, the memory of her father’s words piercing her to the core.

“He’s nothing but a womanizer and fortune hunter, I tell you, selling his soul to George Templeton, no doubt sealing the deal by courting his daughter.”

“I know, although that man is so darn stubborn, can you believe he actually balked at first?” Jo Beth asked, disbelief threading her tone. “Thank goodness Daddy explained it was his way of investing in Finn’s mine.” She huffed out a sigh. “Apparently legitimate investment is the only way to get around Finn McShane’s pride. Which is why Daddy has promised further investment down the road, claiming Finn is ‘more of a son than a client.’”

Bettie squealed again, her shadow hugging Jo Beth’s. “Oh, Jo, Finn would be a fool not to propose!” she gushed. “And I am so excited Milo and I will be there tonight to see it!”

“I know!” Jo Beth’s voice turned sour. “And we could have been on our way right after the dance if that snotty Liberty O’Shea hadn’t insisted Finn and Milo stay and clean up. I never could stand her, always actin’ like she’s so all-fire smart, and she’s even worse now with that fancy degree.” Her annoyance blasted out in a noisy sigh. “I don’t know how Finn can stand working with the woman, as downright bossy as she is.”

Bettie leaned close to Jo Beth, her voice lowering to the level of gossip. “Milo says she drives poor Finn crazy, butting heads over every little thing, but Finn knows how to handle her.”

Jo Beth snickered. “How? With a bit and bridle?”

“Nope, he just rails right back when she gives him trouble, apparently, which according to Milo is as often as the sun sets and rises. Claims Finn said she’s a spinster in the making.”

Nausea curdled Liberty’s stomach.

“You girls ready to go?”

The blood instantly drained from Liberty’s face at the sound of Finn’s voice, her body flushing hot and then cold.

Milo’s chuckle carried over the quilt. “Imagine they are, Finn, since there’s a triple layer chocolate cake just waitin’ for us over at Jo Beth’s.”

Finn’s husky laughter shrank Liberty’s ribcage till she thought she couldn’t breathe. “That’s right. We have an awful lot to celebrate tonight, Miss Templeton, so let’s see if we can’t make this the best birthday ever.”

“Oh, I hope so,” Jo Beth said with a soft giggle, all voices fading as the two couples obviously made their way to the front of the barn.

Body numb, Liberty slumped on the hay bale, head in her hands while tears stung in her eyes. Bettie had said Finn would be a fool not to propose and she was right. Finn McShane was a lot of things—a rogue, a tease, and a tyrant among them—but the man was definitely no fool. Her heart broke in two as a sob wrenched from her lips.

No, that title belonged to her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Oh my goodness—I can hardly believe we won!” Kitty said with a giggle while she, Martha, and Liberty admired the 1st-Place ribbon that fluttered at the front of their schoolhouse booth.

“I know.” Liberty’s tone was lackluster. She should have been giddy with excitement like the swarms of children buzzing the festival grounds after too much rock candy, but somehow the win was bittersweet.

Somehow? Libby cast a razor-thin peek over her shoulder at Finn’s booth, where a host of children and ladies still hovered despite the fact that all booths were now closed for the potluck.

Martha gently brushed the blue ribbon, a look of awe shining on her face. “I honestly didn’t think we’d stand a chance since Finn’s booth is so amazing, but I’m overjoyed we did.” She looped her arm through Libby’s. “What are you going to do with your share of the award money, Libby?”

Hire a gunslinger. “I’d like to donate it to the National American Woman Suffrage Association, I think.” So women can put reprobates like Finn McShane in their place.

“I’m going to buy that dress I’ve been drooling over in Mort’s Mercantile,” Kitty said with a thrust of her chin, “then donate the rest to Pastor and Mrs. Poppy for that church bell they’ve been wanting so badly.” She looped an arm around Martha’s waist. “How ’bout you, Martha?”

Martha sighed. “I would love to buy a year’s supply of Mrs. Poppy’s award-winning cake because nobody bakes like the pastor’s wife.”

Kitty laughed. “I’m with you there. Mrs. Poppy’s cakes always give me a warm, satisfied feeling inside, so it’s no wonder she wins hands-down every single year.” She nudged Liberty’s shoulder with her own. “Sorry your chocolate fudge pie came in second, Libs, but at least you get to enjoy Mrs. Poppy’s award-winning cake at her house later tonight. And with the most handsome man in town to boot.”

“Not if I can help it,” Libby muttered, eyes narrowing when another glimpse at the V&T booth revealed the blackguard was flirting his fool head off.