by Mary Leo
A festive red, white and blue striped canopy shielded the fifty or so onlookers from the hot sun that bore down on the festival like a flashlight from God’s right hand. Still, everyone seemed to be in good spirits despite the late-September heat. Blake happened to be one of them. There to help hand out awards, he had tried his best not to give Maggie or Edith a facial hint of who had won the blue ribbon for best potato salad. Truth be told, he didn’t actually know who’d won, but he had a strong inkling it wasn’t Kitty. He didn’t have the heart to tell Maggie, who had seemed so positive that her sister would win.
Not likely.
But he refused to let this one event ruin his enthusiasm or anyone else’s, especially since it had been a good day at the fair for the Grangers so far. Scout had won the Tater Trot, and each of his nephews had done well in other events: Gavin had won the potato sack race, little Joey had come in second in the mashed-potato-eating contest, and Buddy, Colt’s oldest, had placed in the top two in Spud Idol for his age group. That boy could sing like a young Garth Brooks. Best of all, Maggie had spent most of the day by his side. But now it was time to announce the potato salad winner. He was sure Maggie’s attention was about to wane.
The three judges stood at the podium: Dodge, Lindsey Lutz and Jake Barnett, owner of Jake’s Old Time Taters and Burgers. If anyone knew potato salad, these three sure did, especially Lindsey, who offered up four different kinds for every church event Our Lady of the Tetons had to offer.
Dodge stepped forward and spoke into the microphone. In front of him, a table held an assortment of yellow, orange and blue ribbons.
“Testing,” he said in his low, booming voice.
The audience answered with a resounding, “We can hear you!”
Blake felt his stomach lurch. He couldn’t believe this contest was having such an effect on him. Maggie looked over at him with those big blue eyes and that delicious mouth. He tried with everything that was strong in him not to react, but his emotions betrayed him and a darn smile spread across his lips.
“Let’s get on with it, then. First I want to say that this year’s crop of entries were dang hard to judge. You folks have sure upped your game. So a big shout-out to all the contestants for giving us some real trouble. However, the results are in and the orange ribbon goes to—” Dodge paused for effect. “Amanda Fittswater.”
There was a roar of applause as she marched up to Blake to retrieve her ribbon.
Every time he saw Amanda, whether she was behind the counter at Holey Rollers or he was passing her on the street, she always seemed to be a little too friendly. Today was no exception with her wide smile and the way her hand lingered on his a moment longer than it needed to as he handed her the ribbon.
“Thanks, Doc,” she said. “Come on over to Holey Rollers this Sunday and I’ll give you a couple free jelly doughnuts on the house, with extra sprinkles.”
Then she twisted a curl of her hair and winked.
“Amanda, you’re a little vixen, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”
“I am flirting with you.”
“I’m going to tell your mother.”
“She flirts with you more than I do.” And she grabbed the mic, said a quick “thank you, everybody,” took the ribbon and sashayed off to her seat while Maggie threw him a look that said exactly what she thought of the entire exchange…You’re such a cad.
Blake just shrugged.
Dodge said, “So as not to rile anybody’s feathers, will Phyllis Gabaur and Kitty Sullivan come on up, please.”
“Kitty’s not here, Dodge, but her sister Maggie is,” Esther yelled from the front row as Phyllis rushed by her in a flurry of self-assured confidence. Blake wasn’t sure what the heck Dodge was doing, but he figured his father had some sort of plan.
“Then come on up, Maggie. We got some good news for that sister of yours.”
Maggie hesitantly stepped forward, almost as if she didn’t believe it. Her sister, Kitty—the woman who used tofu like a spice—had won a ribbon?
Impossible.
Once the two women were standing next to each other, and Blake was ready to hand the yellow ribbon to Maggie, and Phyllis already had her hands on the blue one, Dodge said, “That there blue ribbon and first prize goes to Kitty Sullivan, and the yellow ribbon goes to you, Phyllis.”
The entire audience stood to applaud, but Phyllis refused to let go of the blue ribbon. Instead, she and Dodge got into a small tug of war with it. “Let this here ribbon go, Phyllis.”
But Phyllis held on, pulling it toward her with all her might.
When it slipped out of his hands, Phyllis took off like a banshee, yelling, “It’s rigged. This is mine and nobody’s going to take it from me. Nobody! You hear me? Nobody!”
And off she went into the hot sunny afternoon, blue ribbon fluttering in her hand, floral ankle-length dress whipping around her legs, gray hair wild in the breeze.
“Well, don’t that beat all,” Dodge muttered, as he and everyone else watched her stumble through the crowd, clutching her ribbon and warning anyone who blocked her escape.
“And there goes Kitty’s one and only blue ribbon,” Maggie told Blake. “She would’ve been so proud.”
“Nobody would blame you if you tackled Phyllis and wrestled your sister’s ribbon out of her hands.” Blake had a nice mental vision of that going on in his head.
“She looks mean.”
“Blue ribbons hold a lot of clout in this town.”
“Apparently, more than I’d ever imagined.”
Blake leaned in closer as everyone continued to stare at Phyllis, bounding through the thick crowd. “I know where she lives.”
“Does that mean we’ll be paying Phyllis a visit?”
“We’d have to steal it.”
She turned to him, as if they were discussing something she didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Count me in. I’ve always wanted to play on the dark side of the law.”
Blake stared at her, wanting desperately to take her in his arms and kiss her. “I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you.”
She tilted her head, and grinned. “Then why’d you hire me?”
Blake felt a rush of heat. Darned if he didn’t want her even more. He wondered what she would do if he simply pulled her in close and kissed her. “Crazy, I guess.”
“Me, too.” And she laughed, leaning into him to bump her shoulder against his.
That simple opening he’d been hoping for. If there weren’t a whole mess of people standing around, he’d make use of the moment. Instead, he slid his hand down her back, reached around her tiny waist and brought her in tighter so their hips touched. He desperately wanted to swing her around to kiss him, but he let her go, wiped his brow, and repositioned his hat.
Her phone played some kind of tune. She pulled it from her jeans pocket and stared at it, obviously deciding whether or not to answer it. “Excuse me. I have to take this,” she said and walked off to find some privacy.
Hold on, boy, he told himself, as he watched her speaking into her phone. This was neither the time nor the place to be making his move. Besides, he didn’t want anything to spook this city filly. He needed to play it just right if he was going to have a chance at winning her heart, which he had every intention of doing.
* * *
MISS RUSSET—an exuberant teenager with blond hair and a bright smile, wearing white shorts, a plaid red shirt, white cowboy boots a
nd a rhinestone tiara—spooned up a mound of mashed potatoes from the pit that had been filled courtesy of a cement truck from Cast in Stone, the local concrete company. The mashers had been poured out of a long metal tube directly into the pit, causing the entire area to smell like baked potatoes. The crowd seated in the eight rows of metal bleachers that ran to the right of Miss Russet roared as she cautiously tasted the potato slush and gave it a thumbs-up.
Maggie’s stomach was in knots at the entire concept. However, she did have a serious purpose for being there: to win the coveted Spudphy in the Spud Tug. And dang it, she wanted to win more than almost anything else in the whole world.
She couldn’t believe she’d just admitted that.
The rope they would be using for this contest of will and determination lay coiled like a snake next to the potato pit on the bleacher side. Blake and his two equally good-looking brothers busied themselves with uncurling the monster rope and stringing it alongside the creamy concoction.
“Look at those guys. Most of the single women in this crowd would do just about anything if any one of them even looked her way,” Nurse Cori said. She was part of Blake’s team.
“Why all the fuss over the Grangers? There seem to be plenty of eligible men at this fair.”
Cori turned to her. “Yeah, but most of them don’t live in Briggs and the ones who do don’t have the reputation the Granger boys have.”
“And what’s that?”
She eyed Maggie assessingly. “Have you kissed him yet?”
Maggie didn’t particularly want to answer that. “I, um, well…”
Cori leaned in like a conspirator. “I mean, have you really kissed him?”
“Not like that, I guess.”
“Honey, there’s no guessing involved. When a Granger kisses you, you’ll know it. Believe me, you’ll never forget it.” She gazed over at the three brothers and for a split second, her face said it all.
Maggie assumed that, at one time, there must’ve been a sincere relationship between Cori and Doc Blake that smoldered no matter what path each of them took. Those burning embers would never be completely out…at least not for Cori.
“I’m just passing through,” Maggie said. “I can’t get involved. Besides, I just got a terrific job offer earlier today. It’s with Technix, in their marketing department. It’s a good solid company and the benefits are amazing. It’s a fabulous opportunity and I’d be silly to pass it up.” As soon as she’d said the words, she wished she could take them back. But now the cat was out of the bag, so to speak.
Cori turned to her. “Have you told Doc yet?”
“No. I just received the offer about an hour ago. Not sure how to handle it, what with my sister needing me another couple of months, at least.”
“Kitty’s resourceful. She’ll sort something out. She could move and live with Tim’s parents. When do they want you to start?”
“That’s just it. Before the end of the month.”
“Wow, that’s less than two weeks. What did you tell them?”
Maggie hesitated, still confused over her response to the HR department. “That I would let them know in a few days.”
Cori smiled. “Briggs is growing on you.”
“No…I mean, it’s a nice town and all, but I could never—”
“It’s Doc, isn’t it? You’re falling for that cowboy, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. My sister needs me and I—”
Doc’s voice stopped her from finishing the sentence. “Don’t just stand there, you two, come on over and help.”
“Please don’t tell him,” Maggie pleaded, as they walked toward Doc. “I’d like to tell my sister first.”
Cori shook her head. “Honey, you’re in a real bind, and I sure wouldn’t want to be caught in there with you for anything. I won’t say a word.”
“Thanks,” Maggie told her, and the two women joined the Spud Tug preparations.
* * *
“YOU GUYS ARE TOAST,” Helen the barmaid teased, as she helped yank the thick rope over to her side of the pit. Helen’s team consisted of three guys and two women, some of whom Maggie recognized from Belly Up.
“Tell me about it when you’re covered in bakers,” Colt called out to her, teasing right back.
Maggie caught the playfulness in Helen’s eyes as she watched Helen taunt Colt. “I’ll remind you about this conversation when I hose you off afterward.”
“Like that would ever happen,” Blake countered.
“You boys are in for it now,” Helen taunted, but her eyes never left Colt.
“She sounds determined to win,” Maggie whispered in Blake’s direction as they worked the rope.
“Don’t worry about a thing. You’re not going in,” Blake assured her, adjusting his hold of the rope. The overwhelming smell of mashed potatoes wafted up from the pit, causing Maggie to second-guess her desire for a Spudphy.
“Here,” Blake said, handing her the rope, which made her first in line with him right behind her.
“Oh, no. Not going to happen.” She dropped the rope. “Somebody else needs to be first. You or one of your brothers.”
“You’re the new kid. The new kid always goes first.”
He picked up the rope and offered it to her.
“Shouldn’t that mean you boys want to shelter me from a potentially nasty potato experience?”
Blake adjusted his hat and grinned. “Not in these parts. Being new means you get the short stick by default. But, like I said, you won’t be going in. We’ve won this event three years running. The Granger team’s a team to be reckoned with.”
Somebody blew a whistle, and everyone on the team lined up behind Blake, with Dodge bringing up the rear.
Maggie reluctantly took the rope, and faced the other team. She was not happy standing that close to the potato abyss. The only comfort she took in all of this was the fact that Helen was first in line on the opposing team, and part of her would love to see her covered in mashers.
“We can do this,” Dodge yelled, trying to rev up the group’s morale. Whoops and whistles rose in support, until Maggie spotted the big cowboy from Belly Up grabbing hold of the end of the rope for the opposing team. Suddenly, the pit seemed deeper than Maggie had first thought, almost one-and-a-half-feet deeper. And longer. She felt certain her entire team could fall in and be swallowed up.
“Who’s that?” Maggie asked Blake as she nodded toward the big guy at the end of the opposing team’s rope.
“Uh-oh,” Colt warned.
“That’s Milo Gump. Helen’s cousin. The man protects her like a mama bear,” Travis said, not sounding too happy about their latest enemy.
Maggie gazed over the expanse of the pit and caught Milo’s attention. He grinned back at her and shook his head.
“I think I need to move farther back in line,” Maggie said.
“On your mark,” a man in a bright yellow shirt yelled.
The crowd cheered.
“Too late,” Blake said. “Just pull with everything you’ve got.”
“I don’t ‘got’ enough!”
“Get set,” the man yelled.
Chants and catcalls from the stands filled the air.
“I don’t want to do this!” Maggie pleaded.
“Go!”
“Nooo!” Maggie screamed as the rope tensed and she pulled with everything she had in her.
For a good long minute, nothing happened. No movement from either team.
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“Pull,” Dodge yelled, and the team took a step back, while Helen’s team teetered on the brink of the potato pit.
A momentary rush of adrenaline and triumph surged through Maggie. The Spudphy seemed within reach. She could hear Scout screaming from the bleachers. “Pull Daddy! Pull Maggie!”
Maggie pulled harder.
The rope tensed again. No movement.
“You’re comin’ down!” Maggie, feeling all confident and cocky, hollered to the other team.
Doc and everyone else on the team whooped with excitement.
Then the audience hushed as Milo’s loud grunts echoed across the potato crater. Maggie suddenly felt herself sliding forward. She pulled and pulled, but nothing could stop her movement toward the edge of the potato abyss.
“Hang on,” Blake ordered. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, giving her a tiny shiver to know he was that close.
“You hang on…to me. If I go down, you’re coming with me,” Maggie warned.
“Not today, sweetheart,” he bellowed. “This here’s a brand-new hat.”
Maggie felt herself losing her grip, losing her stance, losing her composure.
“I could be bathing in potatoes and you’re worried about your hat?”
“Priorities,” he said just as Maggie’s feet slid out from under her and she heard herself scream “Oh, my g—”
The next moment her mouth filled with chunky mashed potatoes and everything went black as she struggled to push herself up to her knees in the thick white goo. She’d done a bellyflop right into the middle of the pit. Breathing seemed to be all-important as she flipped herself over, spit out the contents of her mouth and sat in the pool of swirling mashed potatoes, taking in great gulps of air.
The people in the stands howled with laughter as she wiped globs of sticky potatoes off her eyes and nose.
Total mortification curled in her stomach, or was that the onset of nausea? She couldn’t be sure.
