Lorelei dressed with extra care the next morning. Her fingers fumbled over the tiny buttons on her blouse, and her hair was uncooperative, but she eventually declared the result satisfactory. It was her pies that were to be judged, not her attire.
Emmett waited for her on the porch, hat in hand. He’d put on his fancy clothes again, and she was struck anew by how attractive he was. Her gaze rested on his mouth, reminding her of the kisses they’d shared. That thought sent a rosy flush to her cheeks. She wished he wasn’t planning to leave.
“Good morning, Lorelei,” he said. “Would you care for a ride into town?”
“Are you all right to drive?” She patted her head, knocking her hat askew. She fussed with the pins to right it.
“I’ve still got a headache, but otherwise I seem to be fine.”
“What about my folks?”
“They already left.”
“Oh. I need to get the pies.”
“Your mother already boxed them up and put them in the trunk of the Paige.” He offered her his arm. “Are you ready to win the contest?”
Her heart fluttered as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her to the car and open her door. “I hope so, but the contest still seems trivial after yesterday’s excitement.”
When they arrived at the festival grounds, she delivered her pies to the contest first. She ignored the stares from the other girls at the sight of Emmett, deftly pulling pies out of the trunk of the bright yellow roadster. Then Emmett drove her to the jail. Her father was inside with Marshal Day. Drub, Tweedy, Lefty, and Righty, who looked very much the worse for wear, were in a communal cell. Drub glowered, and the other three looked at her with wide eyes.
“Whaddya want with us, missy?” Drub demanded.
“Keep a civil tongue, sir,” Marshal Day admonished.
Lorelei took a deep breath. “I came to apologize for poisoning the pies I baked for you.”
“Is that what happened? I thought we’d had too much moonshine.” Tweedy poked Lefty in the ribs with a bony elbow.
“ ’Splains the hangover.”
“You came to apologize?” Drub asked. He weighed more than the other three and didn’t seem quite as miserable as the others. “It’s not like we didn’t deserve it.”
Lorelei acknowledged his admission with a nod. “I know. But when I heard your stories, I felt sorry for you, and I wanted to take it back. But it was too late.” She sighed. “And then Mr. Dewey came in and you hit him, and …” Her voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry, too, miss.” Lefty said. “We ain’t never done nothin’ like that before, I swear.”
Tweedy rubbed his stomach and groaned. “And we never will again, I can promise you that.”
“My daughter”—Da’s deep voice echoed off the bare brick walls—“would like me to offer you temporary jobs bringing in our sugar beet harvest. Room and board, plus modest wages.”
All four men blinked at him then at Lorelei, in turn.
“If there’s so much as an impolite word spoken, the marshal will haul you right out of town without pay. After I’m through with you.” Da cracked his meaty knuckles.
Righty swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Are you willing to work?” Da asked.
Tweedy, Lefty, and Righty nodded and sat up straighter. “Yes, sir.”
Drub was slower to respond, and when he leaned forward, he fixed his gaze on Lorelei. “This your plan?”
She nodded.
“How you expect to pay us when your family’s about to lose the farm?”
Her throat constricted as her father, Emmett, and the marshal turned eyes on her. “You know?” Da asked.
“Yes. I read one of the letters from the bank.”
“Did you win that pie contest yet?” Drub asked.
“Be quiet,” Emmett said to Drub. He reached for Lorelei’s hand. “What does the pie contest have to do with the farm?”
Tears filled her eyes. She hadn’t wanted it all to come out like this, especially not in front of Emmett. “If I win the contest, I believe I can sell the recipe. I’ll use the money to pay the bank,” she said. “That’s why I’ve been so focused on winning. I’m trying to save my family’s home.”
A broad smile spread across his face.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Trust me,” Emmett replied, and to her shock, he leaned in and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.
Da cleared his throat. “Lorelei, your mother and I never wanted you to be worried about the farm. We’ll find a way, with God’s help, as we have always done before.” Da pulled her into his embrace. “I’m sorry you were afraid.”
“Thank you, Da. I’m sorry I didn’t say something.”
Da spoke to the four prisoners. “If you’ll come to work, you’ll get paid when the harvest is in. You have my word. If that’s not good enough, then you can stay here.”
“We’ll work for you, Mr. Boyd,” Drub said.
“I’ll come around and pick you up on our way out of town this afternoon.” Da shook the marshal’s hand and left the building. Lorelei and Emmett followed him.
Outside, Da squeezed his daughter’s shoulders in a one-armed hug. “Sometimes I don’t understand what God is doing, but then He gives me a glimpse, and it’s always more than I could have imagined.” Releasing her, he looked pointedly at Emmett. “I’m going to go find my wife. You two young people go enjoy the festival. We’ll see you at the judging this afternoon.” He clapped Emmett on the back and strode down the street.
Emmett let Mr. Boyd’s not-so-subtle hint soak in. Then he grasped Lorelei’s hand and led her down the street, away from the jail.
“What about your car?” she asked.
“It’s probably safer in front of the jail than it would be anywhere else,” he replied. “Tell me about this plan of yours.”
She groaned. “I’m so embarrassed. I should have told my parents. I probably should have told you these past few days. Instead, I told those four tramps while I baked poisoned pies for them to eat.”
“Your plan?” he prodded.
“I read an article a few months ago in Ladies’ Home Journal about a woman who sold her cookie recipe to a fancy restaurant. They paid her twice what my parents need to take care of the bank’s demands.” She dug in her heels and they stopped. “Is that completely insane?”
Emmett shook his head. “Not at all. You saw an opportunity.”
“Did you know I came in second last year and the year before that in the pie contest?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“I thought all I needed was something to set my pies apart from the rest. That’s when Otto and I formed our partnership. Well, after he insisted on paying me for bringing him dinner. He wasn’t eating well on his own.”
Emmett tucked that bit of information away. This woman he’d fallen in love with had a habit of seeing needs and finding ways to meet them.
“And if you don’t win today?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Like Da said, God has always provided. Who knows? Maybe Drub will dig up a gold brick in the beet field.” She didn’t sound convinced.
Should he tell her about Jimmy? He opened his mouth to speak.
“Lorelei Boyd! Lorelei!” A beautiful young woman with shining dark hair that rippled down her back trotted up the street toward them. Lorelei let out a little moan.
“Audrey,” she grumbled.
“Who’s your friend?”
“This is Emmett Dewey. He bought Otto Starkey’s place.”
“Oh, the orchard,” Audrey said. “How convenient. I wanted to wish you the best of luck today.”
“Thank you,” Lorelei said. “And to you, as well.”
“Oh, I won’t need it. My uncle and my cousin are judging again,” the girl replied then giggled. “I’ll save you a slice of my pie, Mr. Dewey, so you can compare.” And with a wave and a toss of her fat, dark curls, Audrey headed back the way she’d come.
“Audrey was last year’s queen,” Lorelei said, by way of explanation.
Emmett grunted. “That would be enough to make me desperate to win the contest myself.”
“You didn’t find her charming? Everyone else does.”
She sounded so despondent Emmett put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face to meet his gaze.
“If you haven’t figured it out by now, Lorelei Boyd, you are the only young woman I find charming.”
She blushed but turned away. “You flatter me, but you’re leaving once you sell Otto’s place.”
He picked up her hand again and pulled her forward, toward the colored banners and cheerful sounds of the festival. “And what if that were subject to change?”
“What did you say?” she asked, jogging to keep up with him in her heeled shoes. He slowed and interlaced their fingers, enjoying the contact.
“Nothing. Let’s enjoy the day. I haven’t been to a festival in years.”
Lorelei’s heart rate sped up to a gallop.
Oh dear. She was in love with him.
The realization stunned and horrified at the same time. She hadn’t planned to fall in love with Emmett Dewey, the opportunist. But she was hard pressed to find time to fret about it as Emmett, with childlike excitement, dragged her from one distraction to another.
They watched a parade. Emmett bought a paper cone of fairy floss for them to share, won a stuffed dog in a target shooting game he gave to a small girl in a frayed dress, and then he pulled Lorelei into the middle of an impromptu street dance. When the bell rang to announce the contest, she was flushed, rumpled, and happy.
“I need to go collect Jimmy from the train depot,” Emmett said, spinning her around.
Lorelei halted. She didn’t want him to go. Didn’t want the day to come to an end.
“Trust me,” he said again. Before she could ask him about it, he was towing her through the crowd.
By the time they made their way to the contest site, the judges were already in place, contestants lined up behind them. Emmett boosted her onto the dais, and Lorelei slipped into place at the end of the queue. Audrey was in the center, last year’s tiara perched on her head.
When Lorelei turned, Emmett was gone. She tried to slow her breathing. If she didn’t win … No, she couldn’t think about that. She had to trust.
I want to trust, Lord. But I’m afraid.
“And the second runner-up in this year’s Apple Pie Days contest is Ellie Armbruster,” announced the festival’s emcee. The crowd applauded. Lorelei’s stomach danced.
“First runner-up is …”
Lorelei held her breath.
“Lorelei Boyd, for the third straight year.”
Lorelei’s hopes and dreams dissolved like fairy floss in a cloudburst. That was it. The end. She had failed. They would lose the farm. Emmett would leave.
“And first place, and the title of Apple Pie Days Queen, goes to”—the emcee made a show of opening the final envelope, dragging out Lorelei’s misery by painful seconds—“Flora Harding, our new schoolteacher. Congratulations, Miss Harding.” The crowd began to applaud.
Lorelei glanced down the line of young women. Audrey yanked the crown from her head, passed it to the emcee, and stormed from the dais. Where was Flora?
A black-haired woman no larger than a half-grown child stepped forward, hand pressed to her heart. Ah, Lorelei thought, that must be Flora. She’d heard about the new teacher with the childlike features and ability to commandeer a classroom of unruly boys and girls. Apparently, she could also bake a winning apple pie.
Audrey’s cousin rose, his acne-scarred cheeks reddening, and kissed Flora Harding’s hand. Lorelei smiled in spite of her own trauma.
When she stepped off the dais, her parents were waiting. Lorelei burst into tears when she saw her mother. “I’m sorry, Momma. I tried.”
“Oh my girl, you amaze me.” Momma hugged her. “Don’t be afraid. We’ve started over before, and we can do it again if need be.”
“Lorelei!” Emmett’s voice rose over the rumble of the crowd. Lorelei swiped at her tears and turned around. A broad grin highlighted his dimples, and his hair was mussed.
She offered a weak smile and noticed he was pulling someone behind him. The slight, ginger-haired man in a well-tailored, cream-colored suit offered an apologetic smile when Emmett pushed him in front of her.
“Lorelei, this is Jimmy Clarke, one of my best friends.”
She mustered a halfhearted smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Clarke.”
He bobbed his head. “And you, Miss Boyd.”
“Where’s your pie?” Emmett asked.
“My pie? I lost. I came in second again,” she said, forlorn. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.
“I don’t care who won. Is any of your pie left?”
Momma stepped forward. “I set aside two pieces, one for the marshal and one for you, Mr. Dewey. Let me fetch them.” She disappeared, and Lorelei frowned at Emmett and Jimmy.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” she said, “but wouldn’t you rather taste the winning pie?”
Emmett shook his head. “I’ve had the winning pie. I sent Jimmy a telegram the morning after I met you.”
Momma reappeared, holding a plate with a piece of pie and a fork. She handed the plate to Jimmy.
Lorelei turned on Emmett. “You sent him a telegram about my pie? Why?”
Jimmy sliced a bite of pie with the fork and raised it to his lips.
“Because Jimmy buys recipes for a national chain of lunch counters.”
Lorelei clapped her hands to her mouth, eyes wide. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not. There’s no guarantee he’ll buy the recipe, but I thought it was worth a try.”
Jimmy made a rapturous sound beside them and cleared his throat.
“Is the recipe still for sale?” Jimmy asked, wiping his chin.
“Yes,” Lorelei said. “Yes, it is.”
“I’ll buy it. How much do you want?”
“We’ll have to negotiate a fair deal, Jimmy,” Emmett said. “And while we’re at it, you might ask Mrs. Boyd about her egg salad recipe.”
It was Momma’s turn to blush.
Lorelei turned to Emmett. “You said you would tell me why you chose recipe twenty-three.”
“Because the moment I tasted that first bite I fell in love with the baker.” Emmett dropped to one knee. “Lorelei Boyd, will you marry me?”
Lorelei’s heart swelled. “Are there terms and conditions? You are an opportunist, after all.”
“And this is the one opportunity I cannot pass up. Lorelei, I promise to love you and cherish you every day for the rest of our lives. And I’ll build you a house on Otto’s property and help you grow all the apples you want.”
Lorelei’s heart swelled. “I couldn’t ask for more.” She reached out and pressed the pad of her thumb against the cleft in his chin. “Yes, Emmett, I’ll marry you. And I’ll love you back, every day.”