Madison
McKinley scanned the crowded town hall, wondering how many of her friends and
neighbors she’d have to fight to get what she came for. Half of Chapel Springs
had turned out to support the fire department. The faint scent of popcorn and
coffee from last night’s Rotary club meeting still lingered in the air, and the
buzz of excitement was almost palpable.
When
she reached the front of the line, she registered for her paddle then looked
for her mom. She spotted Joann McKinley seated on the left, near the old brick
wall.
Before
Madison could move, Dottie Meyers appeared in the busy aisle. “Madison, hello,
dear. I was wondering if I could bother you about Ginger. I found a little knot
behind her leg. I’m worried it might be something serious.”
Last
time it had only been a burr. Still, Madison set a hand on the woman’s arm.
“I’m sure it’s fine, but I’ll have Cassidy call you tomorrow and squeeze you
in, okay?”
“All
right, everyone,” the emcee was saying into the mike. “It’s about that time.”
“Thank
you so much, dear,” Dottie was saying. “I’m so excited about this year’s play.
It’s called Love on the Line. You are
planning on coming out again, aren’t you? You’ll be fabulous as Eleanor.”
Auditions
were still two months away. “Looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.” Madison
participated in the town’s production every year. She enjoyed the theater, and
the proceeds supported the local animal shelter, a cause she was committed to.
She
turned toward her mom and ran straight into a wall. “Ooomph.”
Or
a chest. A hard chest.
She
looked up into the face of the one man she least wanted to see, much less slam
into. She jumped back, looking square into his unfathomable coal-colored eyes.
She
nodded once. “Beckett.”
He
returned the nod. “Madison.”
His
black hair was tousled. He wore a Dewitt’s Marina work shirt and at least two
days’ stubble. His jaw twitched. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d
confronted him two weeks ago—for all the good it had done.
“Please
take your seats,” the emcee said.
Gladly.
She
stepped to the left at the same time as Beckett. He was wide as Boulder Creek
and twice as dangerous. She’d always thought so. The incident with her little
sister had only confirmed it.
“Excuse
me,” she said.
He
slid right and swept his arm out as if to say After you, princess.
She
shot him a look, then hurried down the aisle and slid into a metal chair beside
her mom.
“Hi,
sweetie. Good day?” Mom’s short blond hair and blue eyes sparkled under the
florescent lights, but it was her smile that lit the room.
“Twelve
dogs, seven cats, two bunnies, and a partridge in a pear tree.”
Beckett
passed her row and slid into a seat up front by his sister. Layla had long
brown hair and a model-pretty face. Their mom must’ve been beautiful, though
Madison didn’t remember her. Beckett leaned over and whispered something to his
sister.
Madison
tore her eyes away and loosened her death grip on the auction paddle. She
refused to think about Beckett O’Reilly tonight.
The
emcee took the podium and spoke about the importance of the fire station and
their financial needs, then she introduced the auctioneer—hardly necessary
since he also ran the local gas station. Moments later the bidding was
underway.
Madison’s
eyes swung to Beckett’s dark head. She could swear he was stalking her lately.
He seemed to be everywhere she turned. If anything, the man should be avoiding
her. Should feel ashamed of . . . well, whatever he did to Jade.
Madison
tracked the auction items, ticking off each one as they sold to the highest
bidder. A handmade quilt, piano lessons, pie of the month, a cabin rental at
Patoka Lake, and dozens of other things generously donated by the community.
Someone
had made a miniature replica of the town’s sign. Welcome to Chapel Springs, Indiana, it said. Prettiest River Town in America. A
writer from Midwest Living had used
the phrase twelve years ago, and the town had squeezed every last drop from it.
Evangeline
Simmons, eighty-five if she was a day, amused all by driving up the bids. It
was no secret that the fire department had saved her beloved Persian from a
tree last month. So far her generosity had left her with two items she probably
had no need for. But money was no object for Evangeline.
People
trickled out as the auction wore on. Beckett left after losing a tool kit. Over
an hour later, Madison grew tense as her item came up. The auctioneer read from
the sheet.
“All
right, ladies and gentlemen, this next one’s a winner. Dewitt Marina has kindly
donated a sailing/regatta package. Lessons taught by sailing enthusiast Evan Higgins.
Learn how to race on the beautiful Ohio River, just in time for our 45th Annual
River Sail Regatta, and sail with Evan Higgins, winner of the regatta for two
years running! Now, who’ll give me five hundred?”
Madison’s
grip tightened on the handle, waiting for the auctioneer to lower the bid. Her
breath caught in her lungs. Patience,
girl.
“All
right, a hundred, who’ll give me a hundred? A hundred-dollar bid . . .”
Casually,
Madison lifted her paddle.
“A
hundred-dollar bid, now a hundred fifty, who’ll give me one and a half . . . ?”
In
her peripheral vision she could see her mom’s head swing toward her just as
Evangeline raised her paddle—and the bid.
“A
hundred fifty, who’ll give me two, now two . . .”
Madison
lifted her paddle, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
“Two
hundred, now who’ll give me two fifty, fifty, fifty . . . ? Got it! Now three,
three hundred, who’ll give me three . . .”
Madison
sighed, waited a moment before nodding.
“Three,
now who’ll give me three and a half, three fifty, fifty, fifty . . . ?”
Evangeline
turned toward Madison, her eyes twinkling. She raised her paddle.
Evangeline.
Madison hadn’t counted on spending so much. Would serve the lady right if she
dropped out. Just imagining the spry old woman on the bow of a boat, trying to
manage the ropes and sails and whatnot, all four-foot-eleven of her . . . It
was tempting.
Madison
could, after all, just go down to the marina and buy the lessons, but then she
wouldn’t be virtually assured of a win, would she? She needed Evan Higgins for
that.
“Three
fifty, do I hear three fifty . . . got it! Now four, who’ll give me four . . .
?”
A
murmur had started in the crowd that remained, a few chuckling at Evangeline’s
antics.
The
woman lifted her paddle.
“And
now we’re at four and a half, four and a half, who’ll give me five, five, five
. . . ?”
Madison
clenched her jaw. She glared at Evangeline’s silver head. It’s a good cause. It’s a good cause.
“And
we have five, five, who’ll give me five fifty, five fifty, five and a half . .
. ?”
The
rumbling had grown louder, though half the crowd was gone now that the auction
was nearly over. The remaining people were being rewarded for their patience
with a good show.
“Five
fifty, fifty, fifty . . . ?”
Evangeline
turned, and their eyes met. Her thin lips widened into a grin, then she folded
her hands on top of her paddle.
“I’ve
got five, now, five fifty, five fifty . . . anyone, five fifty . . . and . . .
sold at five hundred to Madison McKinley.”
Madison
expelled a heavy breath. She was five hundred dollars poorer, but she had her
lessons. She was going to learn to sail, and she was going to win the regatta.
For Michael’s sake.
Delicious
