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“Then why’d he make a show out of the dance?” Jo asked. “Everything about that was a spectacle, and he hoped everybody was watching. He won points on that, and you lost some. You weren’t fooling anybody with your shitty mood. It was written all over your face.” I must have looked as mad as I felt because she held up her hands. “Listen, I would have ripped his ass in front of everybody, probably with a microphone in hand. I’m just sayin’, he’s playing the game. And the more he goads you, the worse you look.”
“I don’t know how to pretend, Jo. Not any more than you do.”
“And I don’t know how to help you figure it out. Just pointing out that it’s not helping.”
“He put me on the spot at the dance, which was a dick move. But… I don’t know. I’m not as mad as I probably should be. When I had time to think about it, his apology really did make me feel better.”
Jo pretended to gag. “Gross.”
Daisy thought for a moment. “He’s been messing with you, but I wonder if there’s a way to shake him up? Make him remember who he is. Or was. Humble him.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Jo said, the gears in her brain turning. “What about the Fourth of July fair? We could set up a bunch of competitions for you two. Greased watermelon race. Pie eating. That kind of thing.”
“Wouldn’t that just make him more lovable to the town?”
“Sure, but there’s a chance he’ll crack. Think about it,” she said, leaning in. “He’s stayed away all this time. Ran away from you, from here, from his family, and I think he’s still running. But he’s still in there. And if that guy gets out, it might just be enough to throw him off his game completely.”
“Anything’s worth a shot,” I said.
“Let me see what I can put together.” Daisy was already making notes.
I took the last bite of my pie and cleaned up after myself. “Mama doin’ chores? I might go join her.”
“Nope. She’s riding horses with Allen Schumaker out on their ranch,” Jo said.
I whipped around, beaming. “And you didn’t tell me for two hours?”
“Daisy told me not to,” she explained. “She didn’t want to distract you.”
Daisy offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I said, shaking my head.
“If he hurts her, I’m blaming you.” Jo pointed her fork at me. “This was your idea.”
“If he hurts her, I’ll take whatever you’ve got because it was worth a shot. Just think. Mama, in love.”
“Whoa, nobody said anything about love,” Jo said. “It’s too soon for love.”
“Says the girl who moved in with her boyfriend after forty-five minutes,” Daisy noted.
“Says the girl who moved in with her boyfriend after forty-five seconds,” Jo countered.
I rolled my eyes and headed for the back door. “If you ask me, you’re all crazy.”
“Where you goin’?” Jo asked.
“Well, since Mama is off getting herself wooed and we just finished the ice cream, I think I’ll head into town to pick up some more. That okay with you?”
“I’ll allow it. Call if you need help,” Jo said.
I walked out the back door and hopped into Dad’s old truck, rolling the windows down before pulling out of the farm. My ponytail lashed my back as I sped down the country road, taking the familiar turns without needing to think, which was good.
I had other things on my mind.
There was merit to what my sisters had proposed, to bring the old Duke back in an attempt to send him into an existential crisis. But there was one big problem.
I wouldn’t be able to hate him if the boy I used to love came back.
DUKE
“If you could be any former president, who would you be and why?”
I groaned at Evangeline as we walked up Main Street toward the ice cream shop. “We’ve been running through this for two days. Can’t we take five minutes? Also, no one would ask that question.”
“It was asked in a town hall debate in Fredricksburg a few years ago, so don’t count it out. And fine. Five minutes.”
“Thank you.”
“Just want to make sure you’re prepared for the debate, that’s all.”
“I appreciate your support. I’ll be glad when it’s over.”
“Nervous?”
“No, I just want you to shut up.”
She laughed and shoved me. I stumbled like she’d actually knocked me off balance.
“Well, it’s all starting to come together. After the debate, we should have a good idea of where you stand, and I think we’ll like what we see. You’ve had so much experience, I can’t imagine she’ll be able to keep up with you.”
I chuckled. “That’s because you don’t know Poppy.”
She watched me for a couple of steps. “Do you want her to lose the debate?”
After considering for a moment, I said, “Doesn’t really matter, and the declaration of a winner is subjective. I don’t want to make a fool of her, though.”
