by Mary Davis
She didn’t dare and straightened her hat instead.
The problem with Troy was that he made too many presumptions. And the most irritating thing about them was he was generally right.
The mouse once more. “If it weren’t for the wagon jostling me about, I would extricate myself from you.”
He nudged her. “Good thing I told Mr. Patterson to find the bumpiest roads he could.”
Good thing.
She did enjoy being near Troy. But she couldn’t let him know that, or he would be impossible. Correction, more impossible.
After the hayride, Troy escorted her to the church lawn where the auction was about to start. The single ladies gathered to one side, the single men the other. The wives who’d brought boxes stood with their husbands.
Pastor Kearns rapped a hammer on a chunk of wood lying on the table to quiet the crowd. “Remember that the money raised today will purchase a new roof and new books for the schoolhouse. So bid high.” He held up the first box, yellow with a blue ribbon. “What’s my bid for this lovely box? I smell apple pie.”
Troy raised his hand. “A nickel.” He looked at her and winked. He was insufferable.
Olivia straightened a little. That wasn’t her box. Troy would end up with another lady’s box right from the start. She hoped it belonged to one of the older ladies who participated just to help raise money.
Several other men bid, but Troy didn’t again. Mr. Zimmerman won his wife’s box.
Troy again started the bidding at a nickel. Did he really expect to win a box bidding like that? But when he opened the bidding at a nickel for the next several boxes, she knew he wasn’t trying to win any of them. He was waiting. Waiting for her to give away when her box came up.
’Twas simple. She would outwit him. So when the pastor held up her red-and-black box, she acted as she had with all the other boxes.
The pastor looked straight at Troy. “Do I have an opening bid?”
Troy nodded. “Five dollars.”
The crowd drew in a collective gasp.
No! He couldn’t possibly know. Someone else bid. Pleeease, someone else bid.
Chapter 2
Troy glanced in Liv’s direction. Her mouth hung open. She’d really thought he wouldn’t know her box. He wasn’t about to let some other fellow eat supper with her. She was his girl, even if she was too stubborn to admit it.
“Do I have another bid?” Pastor Kearns called.
The crowd stood silent a moment before Nick called out, “Give it to him!”
Then George yelled, “Yeah, it’s his.”
Troy knew that once he’d made a serious bid, few—if any—would venture to challenge him, knowing he usually got what he wanted. And he wanted that box. And the girl who went with it.
“Very well.” The pastor raised the hammer to declare him the winner.
“Ten dollars,” Troy said.
The pastor stared at him. “Son, you don’t have to bid again. You’ve won the box.”
Troy swaggered up to the table. “It’s all for a good cause.” He winked at Liv. “And well worth it.” His bid would let her know how important she was to him. He held up his money. “Are you going to hit that block of wood, or should I?”
The pastor smiled as he let the hammer drop. “The town appreciates your contribution.”
Troy claimed his prize, held the box up, and smiled straight at Liv. “Shock” didn’t fully describe her expression. “Stricken” might cover most of the emotions flickering across her features.
Once the auction was over, each man collected the lucky—or not so lucky—lady whose box he’d won. Couples and families spread quilts out across the church lawn.
Troy offered Liv his arm. “Shall we?”
With her quilt draped over one arm, she reluctantly shoved her other hand through the crook of his elbow. “How did you know which one was mine?”
“I know you too well, Olivia Bradshaw.” Nick and George had been a great help, watching the pastor unwrap it and describing it to him in detail. Then, to make sure, they’d each jabbed him surreptitiously when her box came up.
Liv kicked at the hem of her blue dress as she walked. “Why must you be so obstinate?”
“Why must you be so stubborn?” But he knew his behavior was partly to blame. And she had never seemed to get over her father passing away.
She huffed out a breath. “Look, there’s a spot near Anita and George.”
Poor George. To be with Anita, he had to sit with her parents and younger brothers in the center of the multitudes.
Troy guided Liv away. “I much prefer over there. By Nick and Felicity.” They were on the far edge of the grounds under a thicket of maple trees. He moved her along before she could protest. Still well within sight of everyone, just not in the middle of it all.
He set the box in the grass and took the opposite edge of her quilt. Once it was spread out, he took her hand and assisted her as she sat. He moved the box onto the quilt.
She reached for the lid.
He pulled the box onto his lap. “Uh-uh. This is mine. I paid for it.”
“Oh, don’t be juvenile.”
He handed her the lid. “You may have that.”
Her mouth twitched to contain a smile. She may think him obstinate and juvenile, but she was fond of him nonetheless. And as long as he held her heart, he didn’t mind this little game they played.
He removed two red-checkered napkins and then pulled out a third napkin with four biscuits wrapped in it. The butter and flour aromas delighted his nose. “You make the best biscuits.” He took out two quart-size jars filled with lemonade. “I love lemonade.” He removed a smaller jar. “Is this your granny’s strawberry preserve? I love this.” He glanced sideways at Liv.
She had her jaw set, evidently trying not to enjoy his praise of all she’d brought.
He widened his eyes. “Is this fried chicken? I love fried chicken.” He pulled out the cloth-covered bowl and drew in a long breath through his nose. His mouth watered. “Are there drumsticks? I love drumsticks.”
Liv struggled to hide a smile, but her crinkled eyes gave away her amusement.
He reached into the bottom of the box. “What’s this?” He pulled back the cloth covering of another bowl. “I love chocolate cake.” He dipped his finger in the frosting and licked it. It tasted as good as it smelled. He knew it would. “I can’t imagine what would have been in here if you had packed my favorites.”
“Just stop it. We both know they’re all your favorites.”
He leaned toward her. “So you did want me to win your box?”
“No.” She folded her arms. “I wanted you to see another fellow eating all your favorite foods with me.”
“Well, fortunately for me, I am the other fellow.” He held the bowl out to her. “Want some of my chicken?”
She gave him a withering look before taking a fat piece.
He chose a drumstick and lounged back on one elbow. “Did you really hope I wouldn’t win your box?”
“It would have been more enjoyable to see you watching from afar as another man ate your food.”
That would not have been enjoyable at all. He shook his head. “I know this is all an act, Liv.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She did, too. But he wouldn’t press her into admitting it. The day was going well. He didn’t want to spoil it.
Children became restless and ran between the quilts. The trill of little girls giggling filled the air. A pair of boys ran by, hitting a three-foot wooden hoop with sticks to keep it rolling. A dog nipped at their heels.
When Troy finished eating, one piece of chicken, a biscuit, and Liv’s portion of the cake remained. He packed the empty dishes and leftovers back into the box. “Everything was delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He scooted closer. When she shifted to move away, he reached across her and planted his hand on the quilt. He spoke softly into her ea
r. “I know you’re afraid I’ll hurt you again. I won’t. I promise.”
The episode with Violet last year hadn’t been his fault. She had caught him off guard. And before he could disentangle himself from her, Liv had seen and then run off.
But Violet wasn’t the first gal Liv had caught him with in a compromising position. Was it his fault women were attracted to him? It wasn’t like he asked any of them to throw themselves at him. But Liv still blamed him for their actions.
He studied her profile. Her perfectly straight nose. Her full rosy lips. Her corn silk hair with wisps of curls around her face. He could tell he had weakened her resolve today. “Liv.”
She turned her face to him.
He caressed her cheek. “I love you.” He saw pleasure fill her eyes. He knew it. For all her bluster and refusal, she still loved him.
He continued to caress her cheek. When she didn’t slap his hand away, he knew he’d broken through her resistance. He leaned forward. He would kiss her, and she would melt into his arms like she used to. It couldn’t be a long kiss in this crowd, but it didn’t need to be. He felt her breath on his lips.
Something smacked the side of his head, and the offending wooden hoop flopped over on his lap. The two boys with sticks and the scruffy brown mutt romped onto their quilt.
Liv turned away. The wall shutting him out went back up. She petted the dog.
They had spoiled his moment.
Troy flopped back, staring up at a sky the color of Liv’s eyes. He’d escorted her to the event, not peeked at her box when he’d wanted to, been her partner in the three-legged race, taken her on the hayride, and won her box. And now all his work today was for naught. Defeated by a pair of eight-year-old boys.
“Sorry, Mr. Morrison.”
Troy waved a hand at the boys from where he lay. “Not a problem.”
The kids ran off, rolling the hoop with the sticks. Tap, tap, tap.
Liv’s shoulders quivered.
Was she laughing?
Finding humor in this could be good.
Maybe he could regain the moment. He sat back up and laced his fingers with hers.
She bit her lower lip, not quite hiding a smile.
With a finger under her chin, he turned her to face him again.
Someone cleared his throat.
Troy glanced up sideways.
Anita and George stood beside their quilt.
He willed them away, but Anita spoke. “They’re going to start the bonfire competitions soon. Want to come?”
Nick and Felicity joined them. “Do come.”
Troy squeezed Liv’s hand to keep her in place. To no avail.
“I’d love to.” Liv pushed to her feet, rather awkwardly with him still holding her hand. She gazed down at him, her eyes twinkling. “Are you going to join us?”
She knew very well he wanted to stay right where he was with her at his side.
Nick and George gave him apologetic shrugs.
Liv’s mouth turned up in a sly smile. “You don’t want George or Nick to win the log-throwing contests, do you?”
Since she was going, he might as well, too. He tightened his grip on her hand and heaved himself up, mostly using his legs. Still, his hold on her almost pulled her down. He gladly would have caught her—maybe he should have tried harder.
Reluctantly, he released her hand to grab the box and quilt. After joining the others heading down Spring Street to Front Street, Troy walked with Nick and George behind the ladies.
“Sorry we interrupted you and Olivia,” George said. “Anita wanted to go to the bonfire. Her folks wouldn’t let her unless the two of you and your girls went.”
“Not a problem. We would have ended up down at the beach anyway.” The bonfire, reserved for the young couples, was where Troy would get his kiss. Two contests, one of speed and the other of strength. Men could enter one or the other. The winners could steal a kiss from their gals.
Several huge piles of chopped wood waited on the beach for spectators. The central pile, already built and doused with kerosene, stood five feet wide by five feet high, the base the rest of the wood would be built upon. Ten piles surrounded this, five of cordwood and five of large heavy pieces.
Troy set the box and quilt down and rubbed his hands together. “So which do you want me to enter?”
Liv shrugged. “I don’t think you will win either, so it doesn’t really matter.”
He took her teasing as a challenge. She probably hoped he wouldn’t win. But he would.
Nick slapped him on the back. “I’m entering the speed competition.”
George nodded. “Me, too.”
Troy clasped them both on the shoulders. “I wouldn’t want to make the two of you look bad in front of your girls, so I’ll enter the strength contest.” It was the harder of the two.
His friends seemed pleased he wouldn’t be competing against them. Not that they would admit it. But only one of them could win.
First, the speed competition. Five men each started with an equal pile of wood. The first one to get all his wood into the bonfire won. Those who wanted to compete drew straws to see who the five lucky men would be. Each participant must throw his wood to the middle of the fire one at a time. If any rolled off, he had to retoss it, even if it was aflame.
George drew the shortest. Disappointed, he stepped back.
Anita stood only a couple of inches shorter than George. “Consolation prize.” She kissed him. George locked his arms around her and kissed her back.
Liv sucked in a breath and moved to rescue Anita, but Troy hooked his arm around her waist. “Leave them be.”
“But—”
“Leave them be, or I’ll do the same to you right now.”
She stomped one little foot and stiffened. “Why are you so exasperating?”
“Just part of my charming personality.” She was cute when he flustered her.
Nick drew one of the long straws.
Each of the five chosen stood twenty yards up the beach. At the signal, they would run. The fastest runner got the closest pile and the advantage.
A man threw a burning log up into the air. When it hit the middle of the pile, the runners took off. The kerosene-soaked wood caught fire in a whoosh.
Nick reached the piles second.
Not bad.
But he kept dropping the wood and not throwing the logs high enough onto the heap. He came in third.
The first-place winner grabbed his girl and gave her a long kiss to the hoots of the crowd.
Though Nick returned in defeat, Felicity said, “Congratulations.”
“What for? I lost.”
“You’re the only one I saw finish.”
He got her meaning and kissed her.
That was often how it went. Even those who didn’t win received kisses.
But Troy wouldn’t likely be so fortunate. Liv was too stubborn. Unless he won, he wouldn’t be getting a kiss. And he was determined not to be left out.
Each man would take his turn tossing the bigger logs up onto the pile that now stood higher and burned hotter. If the log didn’t stay up on top, the participant was eliminated.
Troy removed his vest and cap and handed them to Liv. “Hold these for me.” Rolling up his sleeves, he took his place.
Each man succeeded in rounds one and two. One was eliminated in round three, two in round four. The hunks of wood grew progressively bigger and heavier.
The competition came down to Troy and Albert. He knew the blacksmith would be a tough competitor.
Troy wiped sweat from his forehead, hefted a log with both hands and took several deep breaths before he swung it up and let go.
The log landed on the top but near the edge. Everyone cheered and then caught their breaths as it dislodged another log and tumbled back down. The crowd expressed their disappointment in a collective “Ooh!”
When it rolled near him, he jumped out of the path. He wasn’t out yet. If Albert missed, they would still be tied and hav
e another go.
As Albert heaved his piece of wood, Troy held his breath. It hit near the top and tumbled back.
Troy hoisted the log the next size bigger. If he didn’t make this one, he doubted he could succeed with the next larger.
He glanced back at Liv’s unworried expression. She didn’t think he’d make it. He’d show her. If the Scots could throw cabers the size of full-grown trees, he could do this. He drew in a deep breath, held it a moment before exhaling and heaved.
The crowd cheered when it landed solidly on the top.
He hoped his opponent wouldn’t be as successful.
As Albert readied to release his log, his foot slipped on the pebbly beach. His attempt crashed into the side of the bonfire.
Troy threw up his arms in victory and strode toward Liv.
Her eyes widened. She held up her finger and stepped back. “No. You are all sweaty.”
He crooked his finger toward her.
She shook her head and stepped back again.
Nick and George moved in behind her to stop her retreat.
She glanced back at them, knowing she was trapped. She let her shoulders droop in defeat. “Very well.”
He knew she expected him to just kiss her and be done with it. But if he was going to get only one kiss this day, he’d make it count. He dipped her, forcing her to hold on to him.
She gasped.
He placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips. And she responded, kissing him back. Though he ended the kiss, he didn’t set her upright. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “What?”
He chuckled and righted her.
Liv’s straw sailor hat sat askew on her head. He straightened it for her and tapped the top of it.
The day was going well, indeed.
With the sun dipping below the horizon, the temperature dropped. Troy took the quilt and wrapped it around himself.
Liv put her hands on her hips. “I believe that’s mine.”
He opened it up. “I’ll share.”
Couples bundled themselves together and sat around the fire.
He doubted Liv would concede. So he fixed the problem by wrapping his arm around her and sitting her down with him.
They faced the water, and she gasped as the first fireworks exploded over the harbor.
