by Joan Kilby
“You have always been the equal of any man in this town.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t you ever doubt it for a minute.”
“I don’t, not now.” Angus paused. “I think she might be in love with someone else,” he blurted.
“I don’t think so,” Audrey said, frowning. “She dates occasionally but her mom is always lamenting that she’s never going to settle down. Talk to Brianna. Don’t leave again without letting her know how you feel. Ask her to go with you to Sacramento.”
“She doesn’t want to leave Sweetheart. She’s told me so in a million different ways.”
“If she loves you she’ll go but you have to ask,” his mother said. “You’re ready to settle down. You’ve got a great job. Why wouldn’t she go?”
Because she wanted to stay in Sweetheart. Even if Brianna was willing to leave Sweetheart for his sake, did he have the right to ask her to make that sacrifice?
*
Saturday morning dawned, the first day of the festival. Brianna headed in to work as usual. She’d told the volunteers to take the day off so she’d enlisted the help of her sixteen-year-old niece, Allie, and other students from the high school leadership club, to man the tourism office.
She arrived to find Sarah had created a party atmosphere. White and yellow streamers festooned the walls and a vase of cherry branches in full bloom sat at the center of a table laden with platters of finger food and tiny cakes. Bottles of sparkling water and cans of soda were chilling on ice in a large tub.
“This looks amazing!” Brianna exclaimed.
“I’ve been having fun.” Sarah’s pleasure showed in her huge smile. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“It’s perfect,” Brianna said. “Tourists are flooding into town for the festival.”
“Tell me about it,” Sarah said. “I’ve had dozens in here already and it’s barely nine a.m.”
“Allie and her friends will be here soon,” Brianna said. “Angus can’t join me until later so let’s you and I have a look at the market. We’ve put in too much work not to enjoy the festival ourselves.”
“Sounds great,” Sarah replied. “Mom’s taking care of Jeffy for the morning.”
Five minutes later, Allie and another girl turned up. Brianna showed them around and asked them to keep the snacks table tidy, replenish the drinks, and answer any questions they could, or hand out the FAQ pamphlet she’d prepared on Sweetheart.
“Let’s go,” Brianna said, taking Sarah’s arm.
They emerged onto Finley Road and joined the river of locals and tourists moving slowly toward Swan Street. A four-block square in the town center had been closed to traffic and the streets given over to market stalls, food trucks and outdoor cafes. Every shop had cherry-themed decorations in the windows. Music from the country band playing in the gazebo over at the park vied with the excited cries of children on the merry-go-round and the pony ride.
“Did the hall get finished?” Sarah asked, as they turned up Swan Street toward the craft and farmers’ stalls shaded by big green market umbrellas.
“Yes. Angus and his crew did a wonderful job,” Brianna said as they moved into the market stalls. “I want to get some of Linda Starr’s cherry jam before she runs out.”
Their path ahead was blocked by a knot of people surrounding someone, or something, so they picked their way around the outside. At one point the crowd thinned and they saw what was attracting so much attention.
A tall, strongly built man with dark blond, sun-streaked hair was tossing a toy football to a small boy. The toddler squealed with delight when he caught the football. An older woman stood nearby, watching nervously. The crowd of mostly women jostled each other to get closer.
“Is that your mom and Jeffy?” Brianna said, staring. “Who’s the dude with the gorgeous hair?”
“Daniel.” Sarah made a low growl of exasperation. “I told him he couldn’t see Jeffy without me, and that I wasn’t available today. Looks like he’s found my son anyway.”
“Daniel, as in Jeffy’s uncle? That’s sweet.” Brianna glanced at Sarah and saw her disapproving expression. “What’s wrong?”
“He thinks he’s God’s gift, he’s so entitled,” Sarah said. “Look at him, loving the limelight, all the women flocking around. He’s making Jeffy part of his spectacle.”
“Jeffy looks like he’s having the time of his life,” Brianna said. “Has Daniel been in town all this time?”
“He’s staying with a friend in Polson,” Sarah said. “He says he’s looking at buying a business around here.”
“So, do you like him, or not?” Brianna was puzzled because while Sarah looked and sounded annoyed, she couldn’t take her eyes off the football player. “In fact, didn’t you used to date him in high school?”
“Briefly,” Sarah replied. “Dislike would be too harsh but Len didn’t get along with him and he had his reasons, so I don’t want to get too close. I’m going to grab Jeffy and take him to the petting zoo in the park. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Be at the community hall at three for the awards ceremony.” Brianna continued on through the market stalls to where Linda Starr presided over her bottles and jars of homemade cherry products. “Hi, Linda. Do you have any jam left from last year?”
“I know you like it so I saved you some.” Linda reached into a box beneath the table and pulled out a jar, waving away Brianna’s money. “You’ve done so much for this town getting this cherry blossom festival going. Is it going to be an annual event?”
“I sure hope so.” Brianna said goodbye and moved on.
“Brianna!” Hayley grabbed her and gave her a big hug. “The festival is awesome! You rock, girl.”
“It’s good to see you!” Brianna exclaimed, hugging her back. “I’m glad you made it back in time for the festival. Is Blake here?”
“He, your dad, and Angus are at the community hall waiting for the county inspector to sign off on the build,” Hayley said. “Talk about tight timing. How did they get the inspector to come out on a Saturday?”
“You’ll never believe it,” Brianna said. “John Coates called him. Said the guy owed him a favor.”
“John Coates? Why is he involved?” Hayley’s mouth turned down. “I suppose now your dad and Blake owe him.”
“John’s not all bad.” Brianna told her the bare bones of the story of her mom and John dating in high school. “When we were shorthanded, he came and worked on the hall himself.”
“Will wonders never cease?” Hayley’s phone pinged and she glanced at it. “It’s my mom. I’m meeting her for a coffee. Do you want to come?”
“I’m going to look around some more,” Brianna said. “Will we see you at the barbecue and dance tonight?”
“You bet,” Hayley said. “Catch you later.”
Brianna continued through the market stalls. As she walked, she texted Angus. “Are you free yet?”
“Almost. Give me fifteen.”
“Meet at the town hall to check out the artisanal food comp? Dad entered his honey.”
Receiving a thumbs-up emoji, she smiled and tucked her phone back in her backpack.
The flow of foot traffic was slow so she took a detour down Second Avenue and came back out on Finley Road. Like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to Kylie’s boutique. She didn’t know why she was torturing herself. She and Angus seemed doomed to live separate lives.
Coming level with the shop window, Brianna gasped. In place of the wedding dress, a fifties cocktail dress in pink chiffon was on display. Her arms went around her waist, hugging herself. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care, she hadn’t been going to buy it.
A moment later, she gave up all pretence. She did care, and she had to know what happened to it.
She hurried inside. Kylie was nowhere to be seen but a girl was hanging blouses on a rack. “Is Kylie here?”
“She won’t be in until this afternoon,” the girl said. “Can I help you?”
“She had a wedding dress in
the window. Did…” Brianna swallowed hard. “Did someone buy it?”
“I don’t know,” the girl said. “I’m just filling in.”
Brianna tried to think when she last saw the dress. She’d been so busy lately and she’d been trying not to look. Kylie had hinted that lots of weddings were going on about now. Someone must have bought the dress. What if she, Brianna, was invited to a wedding and had to watch a friend getting married in her dress?
Stop. She was being ridiculous. It wasn’t her dress. Never had been. She wasn’t even engaged.
Dazed and disconsolate, she left the store and continued to the town hall. She’d missed her chance. There were other dresses, but not like that one. Just as there was no other man like Angus.
A shiver crossed her shoulders and she rubbed her arms. The day seemed darker suddenly. Looking up, she saw that a huge white cloud had covered the sun. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Please no, not a thunderstorm, not after all the work she and so many others had put in to the festival.
The disappearance of the dress, the threatening storm, Angus going away in a few days—everything was going wrong. Suddenly, the gaiety of the festival and the hordes of people felt oppressive.
Her phone rang. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Are you busy?” her mother asked, sounding harried. “I’m supposed to be taking our Japanese friends to Starr Orchards for the picnic lunch, but I’ve twisted my ankle stepping off a curb. I’m sitting in the first aid tent with my leg up and ice on it.”
“Oh, no. It’s not broken, is it?”
“No, just strained. Could you take them?”
“Of course. I’ll be right there.”
Brianna changed direction and headed back up Main Street toward the first aid tent, texting Angus as she went. “Sorry, taking the Japanese to the orchards. Come along?”
Long pause. “Can’t. Mom just rocked up. I’m going to go around the festival with her. Feel bad cuz I haven’t seen much of her. Def catch up after awards.”
“OK.” Brianna scanned the bank of emojis for a suitable expression that encompassed acceptance, regret, and anticipation all in one. Then she rolled her eyes at herself, sent the text, and hurried on her way.
Chapter Thirteen
With the awards ceremony due to begin shortly, Angus found his mom a vacant seat with her friends in the rows of folding chairs, and then went to stand at the back of the hall with the rest of the overflow attendees. Outside, thunder rumbled and through the window he could see dark clouds over the lake. So far, there’d only been a few drops of rain, no more than a light sprinkle to settle the dust. Hopefully the deluge would hold off at least until after the barbecue.
On the dais at the front of the room stood an upright microphone and behind it, seated on folding chairs, were Mayor Kimble, Miss Cherry Blossom, and the three Japanese visitors, attired in their formal suits. At their feet was a sapling, its root ball encased in black plastic. One empty chair sat on the end.
Angus scanned the room for Brianna and couldn’t see her. They hadn’t been able to spend the day together but the evening still lay ahead, a barbecue supper and dancing.
There was movement up front. Brianna came out of an anteroom and stepped onto the dais. Her bright blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail that cascaded in a bobbing riot of curls around the shoulders of her dark green and rose-colored dress.
She tapped the microphone to test if it was live and the hubbub of conversation in the room faded away.
“Welcome everyone, to the first annual Sweetheart cherry blossom festival!” Applause greeted her welcome and she beamed out at the crowd. Turning slightly, she gestured to the Japanese seated behind her. “A very special welcome to our visitors all the way from our sister city in Japan who have come to see our cherry blossoms and help us celebrate.”
The Japanese delegation rose and bowed to Brianna and to the crowd. Brianna solemnly returned the bow.
“The blossoms are in peak bloom in all the orchards,” she went on. “You can pick up a map from the tourist information office showing which orchards are open for the public to walk through. Some have been strung with lights for evening viewing. It’s a magical sight so don’t miss out.”
There was a smattering of applause over which a rumble of thunder could be heard. Brianna glanced out the window. “Weather permitting.” A ripple of nervous laughter ran across the room.
“We’ve seen a whirlwind of activity around Sweetheart this week,” she said. “Angus Adams and his crew have worked tirelessly to build this fabulous community hall. And in the final days, the whole town pulled together to make sure it was ready. I’d like to extend a huge thanks to the many volunteers who gave their time and energy to clean up, or bring food for our awesome construction crew. I think we should all be very proud of our town.”
More applause. Brianna’s gaze found Angus’s and she smiled directly at him. His cheeks grew warm and he ducked his head in acknowledgement. But it was Brianna who was impressive, and he felt a swell of pride at her relaxed and confident bearing. Five years ago, he couldn’t have imagined her standing on a stage in front of a hundred plus people, speaking off the cuff. In the past she would have avoided such a situation but now she seemed to revel in engaging with the audience.
“Mayor Kimble will now say a few words and present the awards,” Brianna finished.
Mayor Kimble, an energetic man in his late forties with dark hair graying at the temples, leaped to his feet. He shook Brianna’s hand and spoke a few words into her ear. She nodded and resumed her seat.
The mayor turned to the audience. “Please join me in thanking Brianna for organizing our first cherry blossom festival! May there be many more to come.”
Angus put his hands up high and clapped loudly, letting out a piercing whistle. Heads turned, people grinned, but he didn’t care. Brianna bobbed to her feet, nodded to the audience, and sat down again quickly.
Mayor Kimble introduced the Japanese individually. Angus couldn’t retain the foreign names but he gathered that the younger, taller man was the mayor of the Japanese sister city, the woman was Brianna’s counterpart in tourism, while the shorter, older man was a cherry tree horticulturist, a revered profession in Japan.
“I am honored to present you with the key to our fair town.” Mayor Kimble gave the Japanese mayor a large cherrywood key engraved with Sweetheart, Montana, and embellished with a painted picture of a cherry tree in blossom.
The Japanese mayor bowed and spoke a few words of appreciation in halting English. Then he gestured to the sapling and added something in Japanese.
A man in the front row of the audience, presumably Yoshi Zuzuki, the translator from Kalispell, got to his feet. “He thanks the town and people of Sweetheart for their warm welcome, and says this Japanese cherry tree is a gift from their town to ours, a symbol of friendship between nations.”
“Thank you, Yoshi,” Mayor Kimble said. “After the awards, we’ll have a planting ceremony in front of the building.” With more bowing and smiling, the Japanese resumed their seats.
John Coates was then called on stage to crown Miss Cherry Blossom, a pretty brunette in her late teens who gave a short speech about the history of the cherry orchards in the Flathead Lake region. After that, the mayor, with the help of Miss Cherry Blossom, handed out the awards for baked goods, artisanal cheeses, wines, jams, and more. When Gordon won first prize for his honey, Brianna got to her feet and applauded. Angus clapped and whistled.
Mayor Kimble held up his hands for quiet. “We now come to our special awards for appreciation of community spirit. Brianna, would you like to present those?”
Brianna rose again, holding several framed certificates. “Our beautiful new community hall was built by Sweetheart Log Homes, owned and operated by my father, Gordon Renton and his partner, Blake Dennison. They donated this hall to our town, supplying all the materials and most of the labor. Dad, Blake, can you come up here?”
Gordon and Blake went up
to receive their certificates to tumultuous applause.
“Our next community spirit award acknowledges the contribution of John Coates, a prominent Polson businessman,” Brianna said. “John not only supplied three workers so we could finish in time for the festival, he also picked up tools himself to help out his old friend, Gordon. It’s no secret that the towns of Sweetheart and Polson have a long-standing rivalry in the county. Let us hope that this hall ushers in a new era of cooperation between neighbors.”
Angus applauded heartily. Whatever his faults, John Coates had come through for Gordon and the town when it counted. He hadn’t missed the double meaning behind Brianna’s words and hoped she was right that the two men would put their differences behind them. It was promising to note that Gordon nodded an acknowledgment to John and joined enthusiastically in the applause as his rival mounted the dais to receive his certificate.
“Thank you, Brianna,” Coates said. “I was glad to be able to assist and I’m honored to receive this award.” He looked out in the audience at Gordon. “Come by my next log build, Gord, and I’ll put you to work. We still haven’t settled who can chink logs the fastest.”
“That would be me,” Gordon shouted jovially from the fifth row. “I’m happy to prove it again anytime.”
When the laughter had died down and John had resumed his seat, Brianna said, “Our final community spirit award goes to the man who built this hall and made the festival possible. He volunteered his time and labor and sacrificed spending precious time with his mom. Everyone please give it up for Angus Adams!”
Angus shook his head and turned slightly away. He didn’t need an award or the attention.
“Angus, I can see you!” There was laughter in Brianna’s voice, and pride. “Stop pretending you’re not here. Get on up here and accept your award. You deserve it.”
The applause thundered in his ears as he made his way through the crowd at the back and up the central aisle. Brianna’s smiling face drew him on. He climbed the dais in one big step, and leaned in close. “You should be getting this, not me. You organized the whole festival.”
