“Aww, that’s sweet,” said a fifty-something woman he didn’t recognize standing at the audience mic. She’d obviously caught the silent exchange. “I have a question about this romance.”
Both of them looked at her, and Connor sensed Sadie stiffen a little at the woman’s warning. Okay, here we go. Is it real? Prove it! How would she—
“Where did you two meet? And how long until you knew you were in love?”
He froze for a moment and heard Sadie suck in a soft breath.
“Oh, sorry!” the lady said. “I’m Mary Jo Norton and…” She gave a lighthearted laugh. “Inquiring minds want to know about the mayoral romance as much as we want to know about the town budget.”
Laughter rolled through the crowd, a little nervous and maybe as surprised as Connor and Sadie were.
“It’s all we want to know!” another woman in the audience called out, increasing the laughter and getting Connor and Sadie to share one more look, this one surprised.
“Who do you want to answer that question?” Connor asked, buying time. Of course, they didn’t want to lie, so—
“I’ll take that one,” Sadie said. “We met in high school, but barely knew each other. More officially, we met at Bushrod’s like, well… How many other people in this audience met their match at Bushrod’s?” A whole bunch of hands went up, along with clapping and laughter. “In fact,” she added, “one of my first acts as mayor might be to convince Billy to change the name back to Bushrod’s from Bitter Bark Bar, if only for all the people who met their spouses there.”
That got a friendly round of applause, which Connor added to, shaking his head because she never failed to amaze and amuse him.
“You don’t agree with the name change, Connor?” she asked him.
“I don’t know,” he quipped, leaning on his podium to look at her. “If Billy hadn’t changed the name, you might not have been lost looking for it, and I might not have talked to you. And then…” He turned back to the crowd to finish, but Mitch leaned into his mic.
“You’d still be chasing everything in a skirt, Mahoney,” Mitch grumbled his pathetic attempt at a joke.
As if that bastard had room to talk. Irritation shot through Connor, but the low-grade boo that hummed in the meeting room easily tempered his response. Mitch was digging his own grave. Pun intended.
“Not anymore.” Sadie practically sang the words into her mic, and every head turned like a tennis ball had just bounced over the net to the other side of the court. She held up her left hand, making that lab-grown diamond sparkle like her eyes were at that moment. “Connor Mahoney is officially off the market.”
“Woo hoo!” That was a firefighter, Connor thought. Probably Ray.
“What was the second part of your question, Mary Jo?” Sadie asked, easing into a relaxed smile.
“How long before you knew you were in love?”
Sadie sighed like the very thought of it was almost too personal to share. “Not long. Right, Connor?”
“Well, love can be…a whirlwind.” He swallowed, suddenly more comfortable with the topic of teachers’ salaries than love. “And strong. And it doesn’t take long if…” If you’re faking the whole thing to win an election.
“I know the minute, the time, and the day,” Sadie said, smooth as silk. “It was the day we got back to my house, and that little girl right there”—she pointed to Demi, curled next to Frank—“climbed a tree. Connor didn’t even hesitate, despite being in dress clothes. He was ready to go to the top branch to save my cat.”
Another resounding awww from the females in the audience. Okay, the firefighters were doubled over in laughter, and the gang that took up his two friends-and-family rows were sharing looks of humor and disbelief.
“Next question,” Nellie called out.
Another woman walked up to the mic, younger than Mary Jo and very familiar. Connor drew in a silent breath as he recognized Emily Cullen, an attractive nurse at Vestal Valley General Hospital he’d dated briefly a year or so ago. She’d wanted to get serious, and he’d told her honestly and from the beginning that he wasn’t looking for a wife.
He braced for a demand to know why she hadn’t been the one, and Sadie had. He glanced at Mitch, suddenly wondering if maybe this were a setup. He wouldn’t put it past him.
“I’m Nurse Cullen,” she said when she reached the mic, then gave a quick smile to Connor. “But you know that.”
“Of course. How are you, Emily?”
She took a slow inhale, and he felt his whole body tense in anticipation. This could be bad. This could be just awful. This could be—
“Engaged, as well.” She held up her hand. “I’m marrying Dr. Ron Kipfer next month.”
“Awesome.” He broke into a wide smile as relief rocked him. “That’s just great, Emily. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. And to you.”
She was a class act, he remembered. A pretty woman who loved her job…but really wanted to settle down and have kids.
“Do you have a question, ma’am?” Mitch interjected. “Or is this just a nice friendly reunion for you two ex-lovers?”
Emily shot Mitch a dismissive look and turned back to Connor, then Sadie. “I’m curious how Connor proposed.”
“Excuse me,” Mitch said in a strained, put-upon voice. “This is a political debate.”
“Personal questions are allowed,” Nellie answered. “Audience members are encouraged to get to know all of the candidates to understand how they might handle important issues.”
Mitch looked skyward and started to respond, but Sadie cut him off.
“We got engaged in front of Connor’s entire family,” she said. “It was the sweetest thing. He got down on one knee and…” She blushed a little, shaking her head at the memory. There was no way she was faking that…right? “Gave this woman the proposal of her dreams.”
“Hogwash!” Mitch shouted, silencing the response from the crowd. “I know for a fact she’s lying, and so does everyone on the Election Committee.” He practically spat the words, he was so certain he was right. “They found out about the Bushrod charter that requires a candidate to be married, widowed, or betrothed, and left the room, then came back five minutes later with this whole engagement story concocted to make us all look like fools!”
In his pocket, Connor’s cell phone vibrated, but he ignored it as he formulated an answer, glancing into the crowd to think. As he did, he happened to catch Shane’s eye, and he lifted his cell phone surreptitiously with a silent demand that he look at his.
Sliding it out of his pocket, he instantly saw the picture Shane had just texted.
“So if you think this town is dumb enough to fall for this—”
“Excuse me, Mitch,” Connor said, holding up his hand. “Nellie, may I post another image to the screen?”
“Absolutely, Connor.”
“We don’t need any more pie charts about dogs and tourism,” Mitch groused.
“That’s not the topic.” Connor tapped the screen of his phone and linked the photo to the council room projection screen the A/V guys had set up when they started. “Here we go. The moment I popped the question, in full view of what looks like at least twenty of my brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, mother, and the two greatest grandmothers in the world.”
He heard Gramma Finnie and Yiayia hoot and caught them doing a high five as he turned to look at the screen, seeing the wall-sized image of him on one knee, holding the black box, his entire family gathered with various expressions of joy, surprise, and maybe a little shock.
But it wasn’t his family he studied as the photo left Mitch speechless and the crowd oohing and clapping.
It was the look on Sadie’s face that he couldn’t believe. He’d been so focused on making his point with his grandmother, he hadn’t taken a mental picture of Sadie, because he knew it wasn’t real. How could he have missed the way she gazed at him at that moment?
No one in this room could think that gaze was fake…not
even him.
He turned to her, half expecting that sly smile when she teased him or shot back with her sarcastic wit. But, no. She was a mirror image of the woman on the wall right then, her dark eyes warm, her smile wide. Suddenly, his heart felt like it shifted around in his chest, stirring something deep inside him. Something…that had never stirred before.
“As I was saying.” Sadie spoke softly into the mic, finally shifting her gaze from him to the audience. “The proposal was memorable and crowded, but that’s life with a man from a family like his.”
The rows of Mahoneys and Kilcannons and Santorinis cheered that statement.
“Next question, please,” Nellie called out, making an effort to quiet the crowd and move the event forward.
“Not sure I can handle any more,” Connor joked.
“I sure as hell can’t,” Mitch mumbled.
Another woman hurried to the microphone, someone he recognized but couldn’t remember from where.
“Bernice Maynard,” she said, turning to give a little wave to Gramma Finnie, who sat at the end of the row, literally holding hands with Yiayia.
Oh yes. A church choir friend. He’d gone to her house once at Gramma’s urging to check all her smoke alarms. Her husband had died a few years earlier, and she hadn’t changed the batteries since then.
“Hi, Connor,” she said.
“Bernice. Change those smoke alarm batteries lately?”
She flushed. “My grandson visited and did it just last week.”
“Good girl.”
Mitch let out a sigh so noisy and frustrated, it vibrated his mic, making Sadie, and most of the crowd, chuckle.
“I’d like to know if you have nicknames for each other,” Bernice said.
“I’m sorry,” Mitch said. “I’m registering a formal complaint. This is all sweet and cute and lovely, but how the hell do nicknames help this town pick the best mayor?”
Bernice leveled him with a look. “I’ll tell you how, Mitchell Eastercrook. My husband, Elmer, who you may remember because you charged me an exorbitant amount to bury him and then overcharged me for the headstone, called me Buttons. And when we were in the middle of a big fight, he would look at me with those sweet hazel eyes and say, ‘How can I fix this, Buttons?’ And then I just melted right down to my bones. I think it says a lot about a man who has a nickname for his woman, so you can just take your formal complaint and stick it where…it belongs.”
Applause erupted, along with some boos aimed at Mitch, and a whole lot of laughter as the debate essentially disintegrated into something more like The Dating Game.
Nellie Shaker reached over and borrowed Mayor Wilkins’s gavel, pounding them all to order. “Can you answer Bernice’s question?” she asked Connor.
He wasn’t about to tell them he called Sadie DC half the time and Ear Girl the rest. Those names weren’t exactly Buttons.
At his moment’s hesitation, Sadie leaned in. “I’ll answer,” she said. “I love a good nickname, too. I like to call Connor by his title, Lieutenant, because let’s face it, who doesn’t love a man in uniform?”
“Amen, sister,” Bernice quipped. “And him for you?”
“Well…” Sadie laughed nervously.
“If it’s too intimate, then—”
“Oh, no, it’s not that kind of nickname. It goes all the way back to the very first time we met, seventeen years ago. Remember I told you that we knew each other in high school?” At the crowd’s reaction, she nodded, drawing them in with that magic she seemed to have sprinkled all over her. “You may know this, but back then we stood on another stage and debated. We ran against each other for class president, and I lost, but probably because my campaign slogan involved an ear.”
A smattering of laughter came from the crowd.
“I wanted my fellow students to know what I want you to know. That I was—and am—experienced, approachable, and responsible. I used the acronym EAR and blew up images of an ear for my posters.” She rolled her eyes with a self-deprecating laugh. “I know. It’s embarrassing, but true. Back then, when Connor of course was the perfect gentleman and kindly offered his condolences on my campaign loss, he shook my hand and called me…Ear Girl. I never forgot it.”
She sure didn’t. But now you’d think it was the greatest thing anyone had ever called her, but really, she—
“And sometimes he calls me that today,” she finished.
“Awww.”
“So sweet.”
“Ear Girl for mayor!”
“I do still call her that,” he admitted softly into the mic, unable, like the rest of the crowd, to take his eyes off her. “But now it means…enchanting, adorable, and r-r-r-really hot.”
The last word tumbled out from a brain that was fried from an hour of debate and a woman who’d somehow crawled under his skin and taken up permanent residence there. But his pathetic r-word didn’t seem to matter to this crowd. He damn near got a standing ovation, with thunderous applause and a look from Sadie that could be described only as perfection.
“We have time for one more question,” Mayor Wilkins announced. “And I’ll ask it. I’d like each of you to please tell a personal story that voters might not know about you. Lieutenant Mahoney, why don’t you start?”
A personal story? He went blank for a moment, then remembered a fallback he’d prepared. He tapped his phone again to call up another picture. “I’ll tell you Frank’s story,” he said easily, while a picture of a grinning three-year-old with both arms wrapped around Frank’s neck flashed on the screen. “This is Dylan O’Keefe, who would not be alive today if not for this dog, who is courageous, loving, and obviously has a soft spot for creatures of all kind.”
“Awww!” The natural reaction to the heartwarming sight rolled through the crowd.
“Seriously, I’ve been part of a lot of rescues, and I’ve never known a dog to pull a boy from rushing water.”
“Which would never have happened if that child’s father had been paying attention.” Mitch’s comment brought the crowd to stunned silence. As every eye turned toward him, he shrugged. “Just keeping it real, ladies and gentlemen, which as you know…” He pointed to the other two podiums. “These two are not. And I had hoped we’d get some actual questions from our townspeople on the subject of how they are circumventing the rules that our forefathers laid out for this town.”
“Give it a break, Mitch,” a female voice called out.
“We love the mayor couple,” someone else chimed in.
“How about your personal story, Mr. Easterbrook?” Nellie said quickly to quell any further outbursts.
Mitch nodded and leaned into his podium. “Thank you, Nellie. Of course I have many, considering my family has been in Bitter Bark for five generations and in all that time has been the one and only organization that every grieving family can count on in the darkest times of their lives. So my best personal memories are helping them, the good citizens of Bitter Bark, when they need it most.”
The crowd was silent, and that, Connor suspected, was because the locals were being polite.
“Ms. Hartman?”
Sadie nodded, gathering her thoughts for a moment. Connor watched as she lifted her chin to speak, ready for something that would be smooth and political, something that would show her caring for the community or her recognition of the issues and troubles they faced.
“Once, when I was about to turn fifteen, I went through a very sad time in my life.” She inched closer to the mic, looking past Connor to shoot a quick, almost imperceptible glance at Mitch, who averted his gaze to stare down at his podium.
Holy hell, Connor thought, remembering exactly what happened to her when she was about that age. She would share that here? Hadn’t she said her family had kept that secret? Would she use her mother’s story as a sure way to destroy Mitch Easterbrook? His whole body tensed as he looked to his side to watch her, ready to catch her, defend her, support her, whatever she needed.
“It got so bad one day that I
packed a small suitcase and headed down Bushrod Boulevard toward the bus station at Vestal Valley College. I wanted to run away.” She waited a beat as the crowd completely silenced. “I picked a very rainy, wretched morning to run away,” she added with a sad smile. “It was a torrential downpour, and I got soaked. On the way there, I stopped under an awning, right outside of the bookstore. A man walked out and started to open his umbrella. As he did, he looked at me and must have been able to tell my face was wet with tears rather than just raindrops.”
The slightest catch in her voice made her pause, and someone in the crowd sighed noisily.
“The man looked down at me and said something I’ll never forget. ‘It’s okay to cry,’ he said, kind of looking at the packed bag at my feet. ‘Just don’t unpack and live in the middle of your misery.’”
The words twisted Connor’s gut and took his breath away. He could hear the rest of the sentence, even though she didn’t say it. Move on, find purpose, walk past defeat, because you’re on your way to a win.
Joe Mahoney’s words never really left his heart.
And, he thought with a smile, they hadn’t left Sadie’s, either.
He heard a soft murmur from that row of people he loved, looking out to catch the exchange of surprised glances between his mother and Declan. Both had surely heard that speech a time or two in their lives.
“I’ve never forgotten those words,” Sadie said. “Or the fact that the stranger gave me his umbrella and told me to be safe. I never got his name or saw him again, but now I know that’s never going to happen. Not long after that encounter, Captain Joseph Mahoney died in the line of firefighting duty.”
A soft gasp and audible reaction rolled through the crowd, but Connor didn’t really hear it because of the blood thumping from his pounding heart.
Sadie looked at him with a sad smile. “Because of that man, I stayed dry, I stayed safe, I stayed in Bitter Bark, and I never unpacked and lived in the middle of misery, no matter what life threw my way.”
“And now you’re engaged to his son!” someone yelled out.
“It’s fate!”
“It’s perfect.”
Chasing Tail Page 19
