by Cat Johnson
It seemed nobody could steer completely clear of their arch enemy in a town this small.
At least my nemesis was only online. I didn’t have to worry about bumping into Mister Naughty while voting. And I wouldn’t know him even if I did walk right into him. Chalk one up for the anonymity of the internet.
As Red navigated her own check-in with Betty, I stepped up to the second volunteer. “Hi, I’m Harper Lowinsky. I only recently moved here and this is my first time voting in the village but I have proof—”
“That’s fine. Just print your name and address then sign there.” She spun her large register book toward me with a pen.
All righty.
Apparently, local village elections here in Mudville were not quite as regulated as, let’s say, voting for the President of the United States was.
In this case, it worked in my favor, because I really wanted the opportunity to vote for Stone.
I did as she instructed and received my paper ballot and was told to go into one of the four little cardboard enclosures set up where we could have privacy as we filled in our choice.
Red was waiting for me when I came out, my hands still shaking from entering, in my neatest, best handwriting, Stone’s name on the line for write-in candidates.
She smiled at me. “Done?”
“Done.”
“Fold it in half and shove it in the box.” Red tipped her head toward an honest to goodness, wooden ballot box, with a slot in the top and a lid secured with a padlock.
Voting in Mudville might set election technology back fifty years but at the moment I didn’t care. I’d entered my vote for Stone. Red had too. And our friends and relatives would be doing the same.
If—when—he won, we could worry about revamping electoral procedures then. I couldn’t wait.
I was giddy as, having deposited my folded ballot into the ancient-looking box, I turned back to Red. “Now what?”
It felt like we should do something to commemorate my first vote in Mudville and Stone’s impending win.
As I thought of what we could do, Red’s eyes grew wide as her gaze cut past my shoulder.
“Don’t look now but it’s the old biddies,” she hissed.
Impressively, her lips barely moved as she’d said it. In fact, Red might have a future as a ventriloquist. But that didn’t help us in our current situation.
Trapped. That’s what we were with no way out of the front room of the community house that had only one door and nowhere to hide.
Bravely, I turned around and saw Red was right. Alice Mudd and Mary Brimley, bundled up in scarves and hats against the cold outdoors, must have snuck in while I’d been in my little cardboard cocoon.
They both stood facing me now, their own ballots folded in half as I unintentionally blocked their path to the ballot box.
Of course, they’d seen me. And these women were not the type to let me go with just a quick hello. Any interaction with either one, never mind both together, opened up a long conversation.
Alice came directly at me, moving surprisingly fast for an old lady. I took a single step back as Alice crowded my personal space.
Right behind Alice, just as quick on her feet, was Mary.
“Harper,” Alice said, reaching out to touch my arm. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to tell you we didn’t forget about your missing signs.”
That was pretty amazing, since I almost had forgotten myself. So much had gone one between then and now.
“Oh. Um. Thanks.”
“In fact, we’ve got a lead,” Mary Brimley added conspiratorially, leaning close and also encroaching on me too closely.
“A lead?” I repeated, not missing that Red had eased back and faded into the background, leaving me as the lone target for the old biddies’ attention.
“Mary! We agreed not to say anything about that until we had something concrete to tell her.” Alice frowned at her friend.
“I know, Alice, but I didn’t want her to lose hope,” Mary defended.
“It’s fine,” I said to put an end to their argument. “Stone is running for mayor now, not me, so the signs don’t matter.”
“The fact there’s a thief in town does matter,” Mary said.
“Yes, it does.” Alice nodded her agreement. “But don't you worry about the election. We both voted for your beau. I wrote his name right there on the line for the write-in candidate. Stetson Morgan.”
Mary backhanded Alice’s arm. “That’s Stone’s grandfather’s name. Stetson’s not running. That man’s been dead for years.”
“Oh goodness.” Alice’s eyes widened. “I need a new ballot.”
“Go to the check-in table and give them the spoiled one. They’ll give you a new one,” Red said.
“Yes. I’ll do that right now.”
As Alice scurried off to the table, Mary Brimley rolled her eyes. “She’s getting up there in years. Not like me. Still sharp as a tack, I am.”
Mary tapped her head with her forefinger and instead hit herself with the folded ballot in her hand.
“Oh, my. I should put this in the box, shouldn’t I?” With a chuckle she reached past me to deposit the ballot just as Alice returned.
“Okay. I got a new ballot and wrote Stone Morgan. Though it’s no surprise I wrote Stetson first. That man.” Alice fanned herself. “He was a charmer and a looker. I had my eye on him myself for a while right after the war.”
Alice’s gaze cut to the clock on the wall.
“Is that the time?” she asked. “Mary, we have to go. We were supposed to be at the diner five minutes ago.”
“Oh. We’d better hurry.” Mary glanced at me. “We’ll be in touch about those signs.”
“Mary!” Alice called from the door.
“Gotta go.” Mary winked at me and was off.
Once they’d finally left, Red stood next to me as we both stared at the door. No doubt she was still reeling from the unexpected encounter just as I was.
“I bet there are a thousand stories hidden inside those two old biddies, just waiting to be told,” I said.
Red let out a short laugh. “I think you might be right.”
SEVENTEEN
Stone
“Did you remember to vote before four o’clock?” Harper asked glancing at the clock on the nightstand next to her bed.
The glowing numbers clearly read six-forty-nine.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, pulling off my jacket and hanging it on the back of her desk chair. The one I had never seen her sit in, although it did make a handy spot to hang things.
“And you voted for yourself, correct?” She leveled a suspicious glare on me from where she sat propped against the headboard with the laptop resting on her thighs, as usual.
I laughed as I kicked off my boots. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because I’m not sure you want this position. I think you just agreed to run to keep me happy. And given that, I wouldn’t put it past you to vote for Mayor Pickett instead of yourself.”
“Good idea. I wish I’d thought of it,” I joked, sitting and swinging my sock-covered feet up onto the bed. “But no. I actually did write in my own name. And while I was there two people came up to me and assured me they were voting for me too. So there you go. I’ve got at least three votes. It won’t be a total shut out.”
“You have more votes than that, silly. You know your family, which is huge, and all our friends are voting for you.”
“My family is not huge.”
“Compared to mine it is.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re an only child. The bar wasn’t set that high.”
“Whatever. Anyway, Agnes voted too. And Red and I walked over earlier. So now I guess all we do is wait for the results.”
“Yup. Waiting with bated breath,” I joked and earned a glare in exchange. “So what are you doing?” I glanced at the text-filled document open on her computer.
“Writing.”
“Writing your book?” I asked hopeful
ly.
“No. I’m pre-writing posts for the Ms. Naughty account on the Mudville forum.”
I was silent for long enough she glanced over at me.
“Why are you suddenly so quiet?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. And your silence feels distinctly judgmental.” She cocked up one dark brow.
What to do? That was the question.
I could deny there was anything wrong and just kiss her.
Make her forget her suspicions and hopefully the damn Mudville community forum too, although that last part was doubtful.
I could have done all that. But I didn’t.
Instead I proved I was as dumb when it came to women as some of the men I gave advice to and said, “I’m just wondering why you’re spending so much time on that forum.”
“Because I’m stubborn. And if freaking Anonymous can get over a hundred comments on a post then I’ll be damned if I can’t do the same. I’ll beat this Mister Naughty. I just have to try harder.” She’d practically spat out the name Mister Naughty, as I schooled my expression to avoid looking guilty.
“Oh. Is he, uh, still posting?” I played dumb while I knew for a fact I hadn’t posted in days.
I hadn’t deleted the account—yet—but I wasn’t interacting on there anymore.
God help me, I’d logged in to disable the account and couldn’t do it. I’d become addicted to reading the feed. Convinced myself that I didn’t need to give it up completely. That if I just stopped posting and commenting, that would be enough.
I’d hoped that my taking a step back would appease Harper. Looking at the long document open on her computer, I could see I’d been wrong.
“The damn guy is still getting comments. Even on posts that are a week old,” she ranted.
Her writing was her career, her livelihood, but instead of working on her book she was spending hours on the forum and it was all my fault.
Time to end this thing.
I drew in a breath and blew it out. This might be the death knell of our relationship, but I was going to confess. Here and now.
“Harper, I have to tell you something—"
A shout from down in the kitchen was followed by the slam of the backdoor and footsteps pounding on the stairs leading up to the attic.
Harper flipped her laptop closed and tossed it onto the comforter. After wrestling with the throw she finally got her legs free and flung the blanket to the side before she clamored off the bed.
“What’s going on?” she asked, sending a wide-eyed glance filled with fear and worry at me.
I wished I could answer her. I shoved my feet back into my shoes and strode toward the staircase. I arrived there in time to see Cash turning the corner.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, heart pounding.
“You won!”
“I won?” I frowned as the word lost all meaning while I tried to wrap my head around what he was saying.
“You won. You’re the new mayor,” Cash confirmed with a nod, his crooked smile looking a bit smug.
I could guess what he was thinking and he was right. Running was one thing. Actually winning was another.
“Oh my God.” Harper was beside me, a ball of energy and excitement. “You have to go and take the oath. Laney told Agnes when I was running that as a write-in candidate, if I won, I had to make sure to do it right away or forfeit.”
Great. I already had official duties to take care of and I hadn’t even been mayor for five minutes yet. "Tonight?" I asked.
Harper glanced at the clock. "It's probably too late now. You'll have to do it first thing in the morning."
I should have thought this thing through better. I drew in a breath. “Okay. Where do I do this oath thing?”
Her brows drew low. “I’m not sure.”
“Clearly we have to go to the Muddy River Inn and ask Laney in person for more specifics. And have a celebratory beer while we’re there.” Cash grinned, jumping at the excuse to go to the bar.
“I guess we do have to track down Laney and ask about this oath thing. We’ll decide about the beer after I find out what it is I’m supposed to do.” I glanced at Harper, my gaze dropping to her pajama bottoms. “You want to get changed and come with us?”
“No. It’s okay. You boys go. I have to text Red and Bethany. And I have to get on social media and post about your victory.”
I could see she was already off in her own mind, adding things to her mental to-do list.
“All right.” I grabbed her arm to reel her in for a big kiss. “I love you. Remember that, okay?”
“I love you too.” She smiled.
I only hoped that was still the case after I eventually told her the truth and confessed to her that I was her nemesis.
That obviously wasn’t happening right now.
“Okay. Well, bye.” I watched Harper make a beeline for her computer and I saw I’d already lost her attention. Turning to Cash, I said, “Let’s go.”
He let out a whoop and called a hurried goodbye to Harper before barreling down the stairs.
I followed with less enthusiasm.
It felt odd leaving. Harper and I had settled into a routine over the past couple of weeks.
Most nights I’d come over in the evening, some nights for dinner, other nights after I ate with my family, and occasionally after attending a town meeting, depending on the night.
We’d watch a movie together, sometimes downstairs with Agnes. Other times, upstairs in Harper’s room alone.
Then, before we went to sleep, Harper was always up for a little nookie, which of course I never objected to.
After that, I’d spend the night with her in her bed.
Harper had even bought me my own toothbrush to keep here. And pajamas. They were plaid flannel and cozy, according to her.
When I commented they’d be awfully hot in the warm weather, she assured me she’d get me summer-weight ones too. So there was that for me to look forward to.
For the first time since I was like seven, I owned pajamas. I still wasn’t willing to admit that to anyone I knew. It was Harper’s and my dirty little secret and it would stay that way.
Mornings, I’d get up early, change and head home, leaving the pajamas behind.
At the farm I’d have breakfast with the family and catch up on anything I’d missed before starting my workday. Thank God, at least there I could smell some diesel and shift some tractor gears and earn back the man card I was in danger of losing from watching Hallmark movies in PJs in bed with Harper at seven p.m..
The point was, my being here was starting to feel normal. And, I liked it. Even Harper stealing the covers didn’t bother me so much. It was worth it to be there with her.
And here I was leaving her to go out with Cash.
I would have thought I’d be excited to go out like I’d done so often before meeting her. But I wasn’t. I would be just as happy staying in.
It was odd to realize—to admit—I’d changed. Being with her had changed me and I had to think that wasn’t a bad thing. Just as going out for just a little while with Cash to celebrate a special occasion wasn’t a bad thing either, I guess.
And a night apart might do my psyche good. Hiding my Anonymous persona from Harper was starting to wear on me. Gearing up to tell her only to be interrupted hadn’t helped.
Tonight I’d gotten a reprieve. Tomorrow would be a different story.
EIGHTEEN
Harper
Mudville seemed a whole light brighter now that Stone had been elected mayor.
He’d make sure my little library was safe. He’d keep the crotchety members of all the various town boards in line.
Things in this town were definitely looking up and I was riding a high of victory. Flexing my muscles after having first-hand proof that the little guy could win against the establishment.
I embraced a new belief that every vote did actually count.
But as I continued to celebrate the win, in my heart and
online on social media, I wasn’t sure Stone shared my excitement. Not just about the election victory, but about life in general.
He was acting, for lack of a better word, strange.
I was considering that when Red knocked on the back door before coming into the kitchen. “Good morning. How is the first lady of Mudville doing this morning?”
I cocked up a brow, not sure that title was at all accurate. “Is that what I am?”
“Sure. Stone’s mayor and you’re with him.”
With him. Yup. I was with him, at least on some nights of the week. But there was nothing official about that.
I didn’t comment and instead said, “Coffee?”
“Oh God yes. I don’t have all that much time before I have to get across the street and open the shop, but I definitely have time for some of Agnes’s excellent coffee.”
Smiling at Red’s coffee addiction, I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it from the pot, stirring in sugar and cream for her since after two years I knew how she took her coffee.
“So how is Stone feeling now that he won?” Red asked as I handed her the mug.
“I don’t know. He and Cash went out to celebrate two nights ago right after the results were announced. But there’s definitely something up with him. He’s acting . . . cagey.”
“Cagey?” Red’s strawberry-blonde brows drew low.
“Yeah. Cagey. It means suspicious—”
“I know what the word means.” She rolled her eyes. “What I don’t understand is why you’d say that. What’s he doing?”
“He’s just being . . . weird.”
“Well, that narrows it right down.” She pulled her mouth to the side and leveled a stare on me.
It was hard to explain all the little things that led to my sense of uneasiness about Stone. But I could see she needed proof.
“Okay, so for instance, last night he was supposed to come over but then he texted and backed out. He said he was busy working late at the farm.”
“Maybe he was.” She lifted a shoulder, then frowned. “Although Cash got done early yesterday. Early enough he came to see me in the store.”
I pressed my lips together, more convinced than ever from her information that something was up with Stone.
