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Kelly walked around the silent auction tent, straightening the clipboards with the bid sheets, reclipping papers, double checking that the case holding the nurse’s cap was secure. She kept an eye on the people strolling through and examining the offerings. Many stood in front of Ryan’s contribution, a small quilt of a river scene with small animals hidden in the rocks, water, and trees. All of the items had several bids, but the ones for the nurse’s cap had already gone through three pages, and the sizes of the bids were increasing dramatically. There were still hours to go before the auction ended. There would be a substantial amount of money for the small town.
“How’s it going?” Maggie asked as she arrived for her shift in the tent.
“Really well.” Kelly followed Maggie to the main sale item.
“Wow. It’s never been so good this early in the day. Betsy will be pleased.”
Kelly smiled. The postmistress was a strong support to the town. Over the last few weeks, she’d learned how much the woman did behind the scenes.
“Go out and enjoy yourself,” Maggie said with a big grin on her face. “Spend some of the California money. And I know a certain man has been asking for you.”
“We’re just friends,” Kelly said.
“Says every woman about every relationship that is so ‘not friends,’” Maggie said. “We may keep you here yet.”
Not likely.
Kelly stepped out of the tent and was almost run over by a group of boys hurtling toward one of the booths, one of them clutching a small neon football in his hand. Squeals came from the bouncy house at the far end of the field, and in the field behind her, patient ponies walked around in circles. The cotton candy smell from the booth next door tickled her stomach.
Time to eat.
Drawn by the sweet smell of barbequed chicken, she headed for the Whitefish Rotary stand. Tables and chairs had been set up in a space between it and a beer truck. Groups, clustered around the tables, smiled and laughed as they ate through their meals. A group of men at the edge was having an animated discussion. Ryan sat in the middle, gesturing with a chicken leg. He waved it at her when she went by.
“Come join us.”
She shook her head and got into line. Whatever they were discussing seemed far too intense. Instead, she took her plate to a table where Alex was sitting next to the sweet shop owner. Amanda? Yes, that was her name. As she sat down next to them, two other women sat in the remaining chairs.
“I’m getting some good bids on the owl,” Susan Thomas said with a grin. “I stuck a stack of my cards next to the sheet. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Kelly said. “This whole event is for the town, and if it weren’t for people like you, the town wouldn’t even be on the map.”
“Oh, she’s good,” Gabriella, Susan’s partner, said. “No wonder she got that owl away from you.” She smiled at Kelly. “I’m impressed. You’re a real asset to the town. How long are you staying?”
“I have to be back in California for my teaching job the last week of August.”
“We’re trying to get her to give up all that foolishness and stay here,” Alex said. “But so far it isn’t working. Maybe a weekend at your inn?”
“I have an entire retreat center,” Kelly reminded her friend.
“Yes,” Gabriella asked. “What are you going to do with it?”
Kelly’s Boston not-your-business attitude wrestled with Montanan openness.
“The plan is to sell it.” As Susan sputtered, she raised her hand. “I really have no choice. I don’t live here. My h children, even though they’re almost grown, know California as their home, someplace to go when everything else goes wrong. I have a job that I love.” Kelly shook her head. “It makes no sense to stay here. I will do my utmost to find someone who will keep it as my grandmother did, but you know there are no guarantees in life.”
“She wanted you to run it,” Gabriella said softly.
“My grandmother didn’t really know me anymore. We didn’t see each other and rarely talked or exchanged notes.”
“I think she knew you better than you think,” Alex said, her words landing with a thud.
The resulting silence was uncomfortable, and Kelly busied herself slicing off juicy bits of chicken.
“Sorry,” Alex said. “Sometimes I speak before my brain catches up with my mouth.”
“No problem,” Kelly said automatically, but the atmosphere had shifted.
“The band they got for the evening entertainment is really good,” Gabriella said, rescuing the conversation. “Susan and I heard them at the KettleHouse Amphitheater in Missoula last summer. Great dance band.”
“I’ll save one for you,” Susan said, giving Gabriella an exaggerated wink. “Even though I’m sure my dance card will be full.”
“You have two left feet,” Gabriella responded with a grin. “I’m sure I’ll be the only one to take a chance.”
“We’ll see about that,” Susan said.
“You’re on.” The women clicked their red cups, sloshing a bit of beer over the rims. But the lightness had returned to the table, and Kelly let Alex’s comment go. The rest of the meal focused on quirky customers who’d shown up at the inn over the last year.
On her way back to the auction tent, Ryan caught up with her. “Hey, you,” he said. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Yes,” she said. “Quite a lot. It’s a lot less structured than a fair like this would be in California.”
“Too many rules and regulations down there.”
She shrugged. “Could be. So what were you and the other guys talking about during lunch? Seemed like an intense discussion.”
“It was. Probably because we’ve been having the same argument for the past five years. Some of them believe we can’t do anything about the increase in fires; some of us believe that no matter what, there is always something that can be done to make it better.”
“Is it that big a problem here, too?” Devastating California fires were becoming almost constant.
“Unfortunately. The season starts earlier and earlier. In fact, the first one of the season popped up in the Cabinet Mountains last week. Someone let a burn pile get away from them. They got it out quickly. It’s a sad truth that about 60 percent of Montana fires are caused by humans. We’ve got to be more careful.”
She looked around her. Trees were everywhere, with houses and cabins nestled into every conceivable spot. The glint from Makalia’s house high on a cliff caught her eye. It was so vulnerable.
“Think you can handle the summer?” Ryan asked. “Fire season can get intense.”
“I’m good,” she said. “It’s not much different from California.”
“Actually, it’s a lot different.” He scanned the mountains. “When I lived in the city, crime was impersonal. Someone else was a criminal, never someone you knew. Here? Here it’s always personal. If you don’t know the perpetrator, talk to a few of your friends and someone will know them. Fires don’t happen to strangers; you and your family are staring down the same threat that someone down the Bitterroot is seeing.”
His words made her an outsider, someone who’d never understand the ways of true Montanans. She didn’t belong here.
# # #
THE AUCTION WENT OFF at five-thirty without a hitch. Every item brought in more than anticipated, but the nurse’s cap topped any past bid, according to Maggie. People had come from as far away as Spokane and Billings to make their bids. Some people had even tried to bid via email or phone, but Maggie drew the line at that. People had to show up—and spend money at the fair—to be able to bid.
Kelly’s old friend had turned into a savvy businesswoman.
All the booths put out their best food for dinner. The barbeque pit switched to ribs, and hamburgers, corndogs, and plain old hotdogs were plentiful. The church ladies had a huge batch of chili going, and that is where Maggie, Alex, and Kelly headed after their duties at the auction booth were complete and the money was stowed in the safe in the general store.
News of the income from the auction had made the rounds, and the women were given high fives wherever they went.
“Music’s starting up,” Maggie said, her hips already twitching to the heavy beat of the drum. “Got your dancing shoes on?”
Kelly had brought a pair of flats with her, but she noticed her friends both wore cowboy boots that worked with their outfits: Maggie in a long, flared skirt and Alex in tight jeans. Kelly had decided on jeans as well, but they weren’t quite as form-fitting as her friend’s. Childbirth had left her with a slight tummy that no amount of exercise could change. After numerous attempts, she’d finally decided it was a badge of honor and stopped worrying about it.
Maggie was immediately snatched up by a partner, and Alex soon followed. Kelly watched them spin to the music, trying not to feel left out. On the far side of the dance floor, Sheriff Tom Gerard watched as well, but his gaze was focused on only one woman: Maggie.
When was her friend going to see what was right in front of her?
What about you? a voice eerily like her grandmother’s whispered in her mind.
“Dance?” Ryan asked, appearing beside her, his hand held out.
“Sure.” He took her hand, and suddenly they were in the middle of a whirling sea of bodies. The floor shook with the beat of a few dozen feet, most shod in boots. Laughter and talk swirled around them, but all she could focus on was Ryan, mostly to keep from stepping on his toes.
After a few dances, someone else claimed her, and then a third person. It went on that way until the music slowed a half hour later. She found herself paired with one of the artists she’d met while soliciting donations. A nice man, just very ... young.
“I think this is my dance,” Ryan said, once again holding out his hand. “You promised, remember?”
Even though she’d made no such promise, Kelly shifted to his arms and let him wrap them around her. She put her head on his shoulder, the movement as natural as making a cup of coffee in the morning.
As the dance went on, she was aware he was moving them to the edge of the platform. When the last note paused, he led her back behind the now-empty auction tent.
She knew what he wanted.
She leaned closer, giving silent permission, and he lowered his head to envelop her lips in a kiss. He was the first man she’d kissed since her husband died.
Should she feel guilty? She didn’t.
All she felt was the sweetness of his closeness and the promise of possibilities.
For now, she’d take the gift and worry about the rest tomorrow.
