Annie Mae hung her quilt on the display rack at the fair. In five days she’d know whether she won and whether or not her family’s burdens would be eased. She perused the other quilts, a total of seven, none as vibrant as hers. Her Ohio Star was sure to be a judge pleaser. She waved at Mama, who had entered her peach jam, then, with a little time on her hands before Pa was ready to leave, she headed for the livestock tent.
Jonathan paced the aisle between the hogs and the goats, running his hands through his hair. In front of an empty stall stood the fair coordinator, Mr. Wilson, a man as round as he was tall. His normally jovial face was drawn.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mercer, I have no idea how that goat got out.”
Jonathan whirled. “Got out and let my Belle go! I’m counting on that hog, sir.”
“It’s a very smart goat.” Mr. Wilson’s face darkened. “I’ll help you search. She can’t have gotten far.”
“I’ll help.” Annie Mae placed a hand on Jonathan’s arm. “Let’s check the next tent. She might have bedded down with the cows.”
“I’m frantic,” he said, his blue eyes shadowed. “I’ll appreciate any help you can give me.”
She understood how he felt. If something were to happen to her entry, she’d cry. “Come on.”
Belle wasn’t in the large animal tent or the corral with animals for children to pet. The fair started early in the morning. It was imperative they find her. The last place to check other than the vacant field was the tent holding the sewing and craft entries. If Belle got in there, she could wreak havoc for sure.
A woman screamed from inside the craft tent. Seconds later, Belle charged out, knocking Annie Mae off her feet.
Jonathan tackled the sow, wrestling the massive animal until he got his arms around her neck. He glanced at Annie Mae. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and got to her feet. “Got the breath knocked out of me, but I’m okay. I’ll see who screamed while you lock her back up.” The animal was a menace. Daisy would never behave like that. Straightening her dress, Annie Mae stepped into the tent. Tables were turned on their sides. Jars busted. Thankfully, Mama’s peach jam was on a higher shelf and thus safe from the destruction. Not so for Annie Mae’s entry.
The once beautiful quilt lay in the dirt. Muddy hoofprints marred the fabric, along with a tear in one corner. Annie Mae fell to her knees and gathered the blanket of memories to her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks, spotting the material. What would her family do? Her hopes lay as crushed as the fabric gathered in her arms.
“Oh.” Mama put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me see.” She took the quilt from Annie Mae’s arms. “Oh, sweetie. It’ll never win a ribbon now.”
Annie Mae lifted her head. “What will I do?”
“Before we despair, let’s think.” Mama folded the quilt. “I can wash this for you to keep. It’s not a total waste.”
“No, about the fair.” She got to her feet. “I’ve nothing else to enter.”
Mama grinned. “You know, I won Miss Pulaski County once upon a time.”
“Yes, I know.”
“They’re having the pageant here, as part of the fair.”
Why was Mama talking about a beauty pageant? Didn’t she know Annie Mae’s dreams were dirtied and folded in her arms?
“I’m saying there are other options, dear. You are quite lovely and have a wonderful singing voice. You could enter yourself in the pageant and Daisy in the livestock competition. You’d have two chances of winning a blue ribbon.” Mama linked her free arm with Annie Mae’s. “Let’s find the sign-up sheets. Pa won’t mind bringing Daisy out here this evening. Tonight is the deadline for entries.”
“Do you really think I could win the pageant?”
“I think you have a very good chance.”
Dare she hope? She caught a glimpse of Jonathan exiting the tent where he’d taken Belle. Her spine stiffened. Once again he’d ruined her plans. First, he’d left and wasn’t there when Marcus needed him most; now he’d ruined her chances of helping her family through a rough time. “I’ll meet you at the truck, Mama.”
Annie Mae marched over to Jonathan and poked her finger into his chest. “Your sow ruined my quilt. What are you going to do about it?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you deaf? It’s ruined to the point that not even cleaning it will make it good enough to enter into the competition.” Tears pricked her eyes again as she thought of her dashed hopes.
“I’m sorry, Annie Mae. It wasn’t my fault. That goat—”
“You should have made sure the gate on Belle’s pen couldn’t be jimmied open by an animal!” She whirled and stormed away.
He caught up with her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. “I’m sorry. What do you want? Money? I don’t have much, but I can—”
“Oh, you’re hopeless.” She covered her face and cried. She didn’t know what she wanted. The day had ended horribly. “Now I have to enter the beauty pageant. I hate those things. And I have to enter Daisy and then sell her to the highest bidder when she wins.”
“I’m a bit confused. What does Belle getting out have to do with all that?”
“You don’t understand anything!” She stomped her foot.
“Please, don’t cry.” He gripped her shoulders. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“I don’t ever want to speak to you again.” Annie Mae pulled free, knowing she was being unreasonable but unable to stop herself.
“Come, daughter.” Pa took her hand. “See you later, Jonathan.”
“Oh, Pa.” Annie Mae buried her face in his chest.
“See what happens when we put all our hope and trust in earthly things?” He set her at arm’s length. “Trust in God, child. It will all turn out.”
Jonathan had no idea how to make things better for Annie Mae. He knew how much she had relied on winning first place with her quilt. He had the same high hopes for Belle. But he hadn’t had anything to do with her quilt getting ruined. If she wanted to be mad at someone, she should be mad at the fair administrator or the goat’s owner.
He kicked at a rock in the road. First, he hadn’t been there for Marcus; now, inadvertently or not, he’d ruined things for the Thompkins family again. No wonder Annie Mae never seemed happy to see him.
Casting a glance heavenward, he exhaled sharply and continued toward home. His hope of a relationship with Annie Mae was in God’s hands.
Wildflowers bloomed at the side of the road, and he stopped to pick a handful. The next house was Annie Mae’s. Perhaps the pretty blooms would brighten her day. At the very least he could apologize. Again.
Mr. Thompkins answered Jonathan’s knock. “I’m afraid she isn’t up to seeing anyone, young man. She’s distraught.”
“Would you give her these, with my apologies?” He held out the flowers. “I truly am sorry.”
Mr. Thompkins took the flowers and set them inside the door. “Come sit a spell, son.” He motioned to a pair of rocking chairs on the porch. “There’s something I want to say to you.”
Jonathan sat, his folded hands hanging between his knees. “If this is about Marcus, sir, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Maybe I could have—”
“That was not your fault. You went away to help your family. There was nothing you could have done to save my son.” Mr. Thompkins rubbed his hands down his face. “But his death did change my Annie Mae. She worries now and works harder than she should to help the family out. It seems both of you are harboring guilt that has no place in either of your hearts.” He speared Jonathan a glance. “Give her time to get over the quilt. I’ll work on her. It was a material possession she put too much stock in. She might win with that hog of hers and things will be bright again.” He grinned. “It looks as if the two of you will be in competition.”
Jonathan jerked in his seat. He’d been so concerned over the quilt he hadn’t thought of her entering Daisy. Now he recalled her saying something about that and also something about the beauty pageant. The day kept getting worse and worse. He was a judge in the Miss Pulaski County pageant.
“Thank you for seeing me, sir.” He stood and offered his hand to Mr. Thompkins. “May the best hog win.” Lord have mercy, Jonathan was in a deep hole.
If Belle beat Daisy, which she would, he had no doubt, and if Annie Mae didn’t win first place in the pageant that he was a judge in … well, he didn’t want to contemplate the explosion that would ensue. Somehow, he would have to make sure she won first place in the pageant—if he could do it without cheating, that is. She was bound to come in second with Daisy, which paid ten dollars instead of twenty-five. The pageant would give her the twenty-five she sought.
So engrossed was he in his thoughts, he passed his farm and had to double back. Ma stood on the porch, one hand shading her eyes.
“Son, I need you to head back to town. Your Pa is feeling downright poorly. We need the doctor.”
“I’ll take the truck.”
“It’s almost out of gas.”
“I’ll fill it.” He had a few dollars left in his pocket from his work relief. He’d chosen to walk to the fairgrounds, but Pa’s health was more important than a couple gallons of fuel or coins jingling in his pocket.
Five minutes later, he was racing at ten miles per hour into town. He tossed a wave to Mr. Thompkins, hoeing in his garden, but didn’t slow his speed. If Ma was concerned enough to send for the doctor, there wasn’t time to answer the questioning look on the other man’s face. Most people had sense enough not to speed down the poorly graded road.
Jonathan took the time on the drive to pray for a miracle. They needed not only himself but Pa to make the farm a success. A month was a long time for a man to be down with a bad back. If things didn’t improve, the fair winnings might have to be for a specialist rather than for enlarging the farm. That might also mean the entire family being moved to where the work was. Losing the land that had been in his family for generations would break Pa’s heart. Jonathan might have disappointed a number of people in his young life, but this was one area he would not fail in.
He stopped in a cloud of dust in front of the doctor’s residence. Doctor Morrilton stepped onto the porch, bag in hand. “If anyone comes roaring in here like that, there’s a need.”
“Yes, sir. Pa is doing worse. We need you to come.”
“Was he working the fields again?”
Jonathan shrugged. “I was gone all day, but I told him I’d do it when I returned.”
Thirty minutes later, the doctor relieved their fears. Pa had tweaked his back again shoveling manure. With a stern reprimand from the doctor and a prescription for something for the pain, he promised not to do such a thing again.
Jonathan walked the doctor out. He needed to figure out how to keep his pa from working until he was healed, especially with the fair beginning.