When he glanced her way, he was hit by another jolt of attraction. What was happening to him? Why did he feel more like a starry-eyed teenager than a mature man taking his girl to the fair?
But he wasn’t complaining. Even his civic duties would be more fun with Meg beside him. She made him feel exhilarated and excited about life.
Almost like a new man.
* * *
Liza watched as Martin reached for his billfold to pay their entrance fee. The ticket taker, a gray-haired, heavy-set woman with rosy cheeks, shook her head. “Hold it right there, Mr. Mayor. Your money’s no good here.”
“Now, Velma. The fair won’t turn a profit if you let folks in free.”
“You’ve more than earned your entrance fee. So don’t you fuss at me.”
Martin bowed slightly. “Thank you, Velma. That’s very generous.”
“Tut tut,” she said, waving them off. “You kids enjoy your day.”
“Thanks, we will.”
Enjoy the day? Liza couldn’t imagine another day of living Meg’s life in Meg’s world. Yesterday had been challenging enough, but at least she and Martin had spent much of the day by themselves. Today they’d be running into people Meg and Martin knew but Liza didn’t. She sighed. More playacting and detective work lay ahead.
And to be honest, a county fair ranked low on Liza’s ‘to do list.’ The pollen count in this field must be off the charts. She saw dust billowing in the distance in an area where horses were being shown. Were folks in small towns desperate for entertainment? And if not, why would they walk around in the heat and dust eating blue cotton candy?
Martin took her arm and steered her toward an area filled with tractors and other heavy equipment. What was a tractor pull anyway? Did one tractor pull another? Or did they pull something else entirely? She figured she’d soon find out.
The dust thickened as the tractors started moving around the dirt field. Liza sneezed three times, took a deep breath then sneezed again. And to make matters worse, she’d forgotten to bring her allergy medication. In another thirty minutes, she wouldn’t be able to breathe through her nose.
“I hope you aren’t developing allergies,” Martin said.
Developing them? She’d suffered with them since she was two years old! Not Meg, however. Meg was allergy-free.
“Hey there, Ben,” Martin called to a man getting ready to mount his tractor. “Think you can win it this year?”
“No question.”
Martin chuckled. “That’s what you said last year. I reckon you’d better prove it to me.”
Ben waved. “I’m about to do just that.”
Liza saw the farmer pull his tractor to the front of some type of sled that had what looked like heavy steel piled on it. It took considerable time, but once the tractor was properly attached, the judge gave the signal to go ahead.
Ben and his John Deere moved slowly forward tugging the heavy sled behind. “How far does he have to go?” she asked.
“Just up to that marker. But if the tractor’s wheels slip in the process, it’s all over.”
Liza nodded and sneezed again. Twice. Her sinuses inflamed as the dust billowed. In spite of her physical discomfort, she watched with fascination as Farmer Ben’s tractor lumbered along.
Martin reached for her hand again, and the moment he touched her, Liza’s heart picked up speed. Never had a man’s hand felt so good, so right, as it circled hers. Not even Travis’s hand in the early days of their courtship.
She felt a stab of pain remembering how wrong she’d been about Travis. Her judgment where men were concerned was nonexistent. But she couldn’t stew about that now—not when she had all she could handle with Martin.
The judge called out a command, and Farmer Ben stopped his tractor. He climbed down, shaking his head.
“What happened?” Liza asked.
“Poor Ben. He didn’t make it as far as he did last year.”
“So what happens now?”
“He’s out of the running, and the next farmer gets a chance. Isaac Remington may actually place this year.”
Between sneezes, Liza watched as each farmer took a turn. By the time the tractor pull ended, she’d learned a lot. And in spite of her overactive allergies, she’d found the event entertaining.
“What’s next?” she asked after the winners were announced.
“It’s time for me to judge the Top Dog Contest. Let’s head over to the blue-and-white striped tent.”
When they got there, he said, “Do you mind waiting here while I join the other judges? You’ll have a good seat and a great view of the contestants.”
“Sure. This is fine.”
Liza noticed a number of canines with their masters. “The dogs are in costume,” she said, trying to suppress a smile.
Martin nodded. “Yep, that’s the point.”
As Liza looked closer, she couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t just the dogs that wore costumes. Their owners did, as well.
When Martin bent to kiss her cheek, his nearness and musky aftershave caused her heart to skitter. “I’ll do my civic duty and join you when I’m finished.”
“Go ahead, Martin. See you later.”
Soon after that, the parade of pups began. The first contestant, a cocker spaniel, must have graduated from a prestigious doggy school. His gold robe was trimmed in black and his mortarboard sat firmly on his head. The owner, a thirty-something fellow with carrot red hair, wore a matching robe and mortarboard. The crowd clapped with appreciation.
The next contestant, an English bulldog, looked amazing in his green velvet suit topped by a leather vest. A cap sat jauntily on his head, and he had a bow and arrow secured to his back. The dog’s jowls hung low, and he drooled with every step. But as Robin Hood, prince of thieves, he marched proudly down the walkway.
His owner, a heavy-set man in brown tights and a tan leather shirt, was probably one of the Merry Men. People chuckled and cheered as the two strolled past the judges. And Liza laughed until her sides ached.
Next, a white standard poodle pranced past in a tutu of turquoise satin topped by layers of black tulle. A tam perched on her head, and she wore satin booties tied in place with velvet ribbons. Liza chuckled as dog and owner, a large woman in a turquoise pantsuit and Nikes, marched past.
Several more contestants took their turns and Liza couldn’t remember having so much fun! Fun wasn’t part of her agenda anymore. She spent most of her time immersed in law books or defending clients in court. She hadn’t realized until this moment how serious her life had become.
The last contestant was a golden retriever dressed in a tux, a bow tie, and a top hat. His owner was a shapely blonde in a black satin gown and four inch heels. The retriever brought the stream of canines to a close, and Liza hated to see it end. She waited anxiously to hear which dog had won and was pleased when Robin Hood took first place.
Right after the blue ribbon was awarded, a woman approached Liza. She wore white jeans and a red blouse and didn’t look the least bit friendly. “Hello, Meg,” she said crisply. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Recess was over. It was time to start pretending again.
“I’m sure it must be difficult to choose the solo dancers for the recitals each year,” the woman said. “But for some reason you keep overlooking my daughter.”
Uh oh, a dance mom. A disgruntled one, at that. No wonder Meg needed a vacation.
“Amy Sanders danced a solo in the last recital, and you also featured her in the dance-a-thon,” the woman said curtly. “Now you and I both know that my Angela has more talent in her little finger than Amy has in her entire body. So when, exactly, do you plan to feature Angela?” The woman planted her hands on her hips, and her eyes practically blazed. An immovable force, she seemed prepared to debate the matter all afternoon.
Liza cleared her throat and wished she could stop the tirade. But it would take some fast-talking and courtroom skills to pacify Angela’s mother. “I’m sorry you’re disap
pointed with our choices,” she said. “We try to be fair to all the girls.”
“But you don’t fully appreciate Angela’s gifts. She has an innate sense of rhythm. Not all children are so fortunate, if you know what I mean.”
“Rachel and I will give Angela serious consideration when we plan the next event. You can count on it.”
“What is the next event? Are we participating in the regional recital?”
Uh-oh. While Liza had bluffed her way this far, she couldn’t possibly answer that question.
“Last year, you chose not to participate,” the woman continued. As her voice rose in pitch and volume, people walking past turned to see what was happening. “The girls have to know what their competition is doing. We can’t become the best troupe in the state if we don’t take the necessary steps.”
Angela’s mother ought to be an army recruiter or a parole officer, Liza thought, wanting to end this confrontation. And just when her last ounce of patience vanished, Martin showed up. He placed his hand on Liza’s shoulder and when she turned to look into his eyes, she took her first deep breath since this conversation began.
“Hi there, Eleanor,” he said. “Are you enjoying the fair?”
“Oh, hello, Martin. I was sharing some of my ideas for the dance troupe with Meg.”
“That’s thoughtful of you. Look, I hate to interrupt, but I promised Meg a bratwurst sandwich. So I’m afraid I must steal her away.”
“But, we really need to talk about….”
“Sorry, Eleanor. A promise is a promise. Enjoy your day.”
Without another word, Martin steered Liza out of the demanding woman’s path.
“Thank you,” Liza said as they struck out for the food tent just ahead. “Normally, I can hold my own with people, but...”
“No one holds their own with Eleanor Fitzmartin. The woman’s a human bulldozer. Now let’s forget about her and go get you that bratwurst.”
Liza felt thankful to be rescued, but she was moving from the frying pan into the fire. While she no longer had to face the wrath of Mrs. Fitzmartin, facing a bratwurst sandwich ranked a close second.
Hurry up and fall in love, Meg, Liza mentally told her twin. And the sooner the better.
When that happened, Liza could tell Martin the truth—that she wasn’t Meg. Then she could return to Kansas City and resume normal life. Her life.
Liza hoped she would remember how.
* * *
Martin felt like strangling Eleanor Fitzmartin. The woman had obviously upset Meg, and he wanted her to enjoy this day at the fair. “Too bad you ran into Angela’s mother,” he said as they walked toward the food tent. “When she attends a city council meeting, she upsets the entire agenda. People usually end up arguing instead of discussing.”
“She’d climbed onto her soapbox, and if you hadn’t come along, she’d still be going strong. I was having a great time until Mrs. Fitzmartin showed up.”
“So you enjoyed the Top Dog Contest?”
Meg turned to him with delight in her eyes. “It was a riot. The graduate and ballet dancer were adorable. But when I saw the English bulldog dressed as Robin Hood, I laughed until I cried.”
Martin chuckled. “Every year the dog owners surprise me with their originality. They spend months designing and making those costumes.”
A smile lit her face. “Well, it shows. They were all so clever. And the owners were almost as funny as their dogs.” She leaned toward Martin, and her auburn hair brushed his cheek. That soft touch coupled with her gardenia perfume caused a revolution inside his body. “You did a great job of choosing a winner,” she said.
“I’m glad you approve. Maybe you’d like to sit on the judges’ panel yourself next year. The committee is always looking for volunteers, and I’d gladly recommend you.”
Meg suddenly pulled back, and her smile disappeared. “No, thank you. All I meant was that you did a good job.”
It had happened again. One minute Meg was excited and happy, and the next it felt like a curtain dropped. What was wrong? Martin wondered. And how could he fix it?
Meg cocked her head to one side. “You know, I never cared much for dogs until I came to…”
She stopped, and her hand flew to her mouth.
“Until when?” he asked, wondering why she’d interrupted her sentence.
“Until I got Lancelot,” she added.
“But what about Minerva, your toy poodle? When you told me about Minerva, it sounded like you adored that dog, too.”
“Well, um, yes, I did. But Lancelot totally stole my heart.”
“That pup is the master of stealing hearts. Dogs have a great capacity to love and their love is unconditional. Unlike some people,” he added.
His thoughts flashed back to Melissa. The whole time they’d dated and even into their engagement, Martin would have bet his life savings that Melissa loved him. They’d discussed their plans for the future and the children they would like to have. And never once did he think she could hurt him the way she had.
Meg frowned. “You certainly can’t trust some people. I can name a few myself.”
Martin shook his head. “I’ll never understand how Melissa could be so thoughtless. How could she leave town the night before our wedding without telling me she was going? It would have hurt like hell, but it would have been far more honorable.”
Meg stopped walking and turned to face him, her green eyes sparking fire. “What Melissa did wasn’t only thoughtless, it was just plain cruel.” The fury in her expression surprised him.
“I felt that way at the time.” He waited a moment, then said, “But I see things differently now.”
“You do? You mean you’ve forgiven Melissa?”
“Well, almost. As I’ve told you, I was bitter for almost a year after she left. But then you moved to Meadow Springs, and once we started dating, my life got better fast. You changed my world, Meg.” He squeezed her hand as he said the words.
She took a step back, and her gaze became guarded. “I didn’t change anything. You just needed time to heal so you could move on.”
“You’re wrong about that. I’d tried to move on and couldn’t. Your sparkle and love of life helped me get past the pain.”
He’d almost forgotten they were standing in the midst of a crowd. He’d totally tuned out the noise and bustle of the people around him. At this moment, Meg O’Malley was the only person he could see.
“What Melissa did was unthinkable,” she continued. “You’re a wonderful man, Martin Landsburg, and you deserve to be treated with respect.” Then she leaned toward him and kissed his cheek.
Meg’s kiss was as gentle as the brush of butterfly wings. Yet, he felt the power of love behind it.
“Hey, Martin,” called a voice behind them. “There’s a hefty fine for smooching in public.”
He and Meg both turned. Cliff Auburn, Martin’s buddy and fellow town council member, came toward them. And Cliff’s wife, Lydia, walked beside him.
“That law doesn’t apply when you’re in a serious relationship,” Martin retorted.
Cliff squinted and slanted him a questioning gaze. “Should we be watching the mail for our wedding invitation?”
Martin turned to Meg. “You never know. Anything’s possible.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Lydia replied. “To be honest, Meg, I wondered if Martin would ever pop the question.”
“Let me give you some advice, old buddy,” Cliff said. “If you want to get married, you’d better sell a lot more of those fancy log cabins or pick up a job at Burger King. In case you haven’t heard, the mayor’s job pays minimum wage.”
“Is it that much? I figured it was even less.”
Cliff patted Martin on the back. “My advice is to take it slow. Once that noose is around your neck…”
“Cliff Auburn, watch your mouth,” Lydia declared. But the twinkle in her eyes showed the obvious love she felt for her husband -- which he returned tenfold.
Martin had
heard Cliff talk about Lydia at the town council meetings and knew the guy was head over heels in love with his wife. “You two are an example of what a good marriage should be,” he told them.
Lydia smiled. “Thank you, Martin. That’s very kind.”
Cliff bent and pretended to whisper in Lydia’s ear. “Boy, have we got him fooled.”
She chuckled. “Silly man. I’m sorry, but we’ve got to run. Our Butch is showing his horse, and if we’re one minute late, he’ll disown us.”
Lydia turned to Meg. “I’m happy for both of you. Be sure and invite us to the wedding. And I’d love to throw a shower whenever you choose.”
Meg’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. “Oh, um, thanks. How nice of you to offer.”
“We’ll see you guys later.” Lydia took Cliff’s hand and they set off at a rapid pace.
“Be smart and elope,” Cliff called over his shoulder. “It’s way cheaper.”
At least Cliff and Lydia were living proof that some marriages worked -- and worked beautifully. If he and Meg decided to marry, would things work out for them? Of course, Martin had thought things would work out for him and Melissa. But she’d left him without a word.
If there was one essential in a relationship it was honesty. If Melissa had told him what bothered her, they might have worked things out. Now he’d never know what went wrong or why she left. He pushed those sad memories aside.
Things will be different with Meg, he told himself firmly.
They had to be.
CHAPTER 5
Liza felt like a prisoner heading for her last meal -- in this case, a bratwurst sandwich! Since she’d come to Meadow Springs, she’d lost both her lifestyle and her identity. And her sense of self had taken a hit.
“Are you hungry?” Martin asked, bringing her back to the moment.
“Not terribly.”
“Hungry enough for that bratwurst?”
Liza couldn’t tell Martin, but she would never be hungry enough for a bratwurst.
Bride by Chance Page 6
