I’ll have Cassidy call you tomorrow and squeeze you in, okay?”
“All right, everyone,” the emcee was saying into the mike. “It’s about that time.”
“Thank you so much, dear,” Dottie was saying. “I’m so excited about this year’s play. It’s called
Love on the Line.
You are planning on coming out again, aren’t you? You’ll be fabulous as Eleanor.”
Auditions were still two months away. “Looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.” Madison participated in the town’s production every year. She enjoyed the theater, and the proceeds supported the local animal shelter, a cause she was committed to.
She turned toward her mom and ran straight into a wall.
“Ooomph.”
Or a chest. A hard chest.
She looked up into the face of the one man she least wanted to see, much less slam into. She jumped back, looking square into his unfathomable coal-colored eyes.
She nodded once. “Beckett.”
He returned the nod. “Madison.”
His black hair was tousled. He wore a Dewitt’s Marina work shirt and at least two days’ stubble. His jaw twitched. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d confronted him two weeks ago—for all the good it had done.
“Please take your seats,” the emcee said.
Gladly.
She stepped to the left at the same time as Beckett. He was wide as Boulder Creek and twice as dangerous. She’d always thought so. The incident with her little sister had only confirmed it.
“Excuse me,” she said.
He slid right and swept his arm out as if to say,
After you, princess.
She shot him a look, then hurried down the aisle and slid into a metal chair beside her mom.
“Hi, sweetie. Good day?” Mom’s short blond hair and blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights, but it was her smile that lit the room.
“Twelve dogs, seven cats, two bunnies, and a partridge in a pear tree.”
Beckett passed her row and slid into a seat up front by his sister. Layla had long brown hair and a model-pretty face. Their mom must’ve been beautiful, though Madison didn’t remember her. Beckett leaned over and whispered something to his sister.
Madison tore her eyes away and loosened her death grip on the auction paddle. She refused to think about Beckett O’Reilly tonight.
The emcee took the podium and spoke about the importance of the fire station and their financial needs, then she introduced the auctioneer—hardly necessary since he also ran the local gas station. Moments later the bidding was under way.
Madison’s eyes swung to Beckett’s dark head. She could swear he was stalking her lately. He seemed to be everywhere she turned. If anything, the man should be avoiding her. Should feel ashamed of … well, whatever he did to Jade.
Madison tracked the auction items, ticking off each one as they sold to the highest bidder. A handmade quilt, piano lessons, pie of the month, a cabin rental at Patoka Lake, and dozens of other things generously donated by the community.
Someone had made a miniature replica of the town’s sign. W ELCOME TO C HAPEL S PRINGS , I NDIANA , it said. P RETTIEST R IVER T OWN IN A MERICA. A writer from
Midwest Living
had used the phrase twelve years ago, and the town had squeezed every last drop from it.
Evangeline Simmons, eighty-five if she was a day, amused all by driving up the bids. It was no secret that the fire department had saved her beloved Persian from a tree last month. So far her generosity had left her with two items she probably had no need for. But money was no object for Evangeline.
People trickled out as the auction wore on. Beckett left after losing a tool kit. Over an hour later, Madison grew tense as her item came up. The auctioneer read from the sheet.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen, this next one’s a winner. Dewitt Marina has kindly donated a sailing/regatta package. Lessons taught by sailing enthusiast Evan Higgins. Learn how to race on the beautiful Ohio River, just in time for our 45th Annual River Sail Regatta, and sail with Evan
“All right, everyone,” the emcee was saying into the mike. “It’s about that time.”
“Thank you so much, dear,” Dottie was saying. “I’m so excited about this year’s play. It’s called
Love on the Line.
You are planning on coming out again, aren’t you? You’ll be fabulous as Eleanor.”
Auditions were still two months away. “Looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.” Madison participated in the town’s production every year. She enjoyed the theater, and the proceeds supported the local animal shelter, a cause she was committed to.
She turned toward her mom and ran straight into a wall.
“Ooomph.”
Or a chest. A hard chest.
She looked up into the face of the one man she least wanted to see, much less slam into. She jumped back, looking square into his unfathomable coal-colored eyes.
She nodded once. “Beckett.”
He returned the nod. “Madison.”
His black hair was tousled. He wore a Dewitt’s Marina work shirt and at least two days’ stubble. His jaw twitched. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d confronted him two weeks ago—for all the good it had done.
“Please take your seats,” the emcee said.
Gladly.
She stepped to the left at the same time as Beckett. He was wide as Boulder Creek and twice as dangerous. She’d always thought so. The incident with her little sister had only confirmed it.
“Excuse me,” she said.
He slid right and swept his arm out as if to say,
After you, princess.
She shot him a look, then hurried down the aisle and slid into a metal chair beside her mom.
“Hi, sweetie. Good day?” Mom’s short blond hair and blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights, but it was her smile that lit the room.
“Twelve dogs, seven cats, two bunnies, and a partridge in a pear tree.”
Beckett passed her row and slid into a seat up front by his sister. Layla had long brown hair and a model-pretty face. Their mom must’ve been beautiful, though Madison didn’t remember her. Beckett leaned over and whispered something to his sister.
Madison tore her eyes away and loosened her death grip on the auction paddle. She refused to think about Beckett O’Reilly tonight.
The emcee took the podium and spoke about the importance of the fire station and their financial needs, then she introduced the auctioneer—hardly necessary since he also ran the local gas station. Moments later the bidding was under way.
Madison’s eyes swung to Beckett’s dark head. She could swear he was stalking her lately. He seemed to be everywhere she turned. If anything, the man should be avoiding her. Should feel ashamed of … well, whatever he did to Jade.
Madison tracked the auction items, ticking off each one as they sold to the highest bidder. A handmade quilt, piano lessons, pie of the month, a cabin rental at Patoka Lake, and dozens of other things generously donated by the community.
Someone had made a miniature replica of the town’s sign. W ELCOME TO C HAPEL S PRINGS , I NDIANA , it said. P RETTIEST R IVER T OWN IN A MERICA. A writer from
Midwest Living
had used the phrase twelve years ago, and the town had squeezed every last drop from it.
Evangeline Simmons, eighty-five if she was a day, amused all by driving up the bids. It was no secret that the fire department had saved her beloved Persian from a tree last month. So far her generosity had left her with two items she probably had no need for. But money was no object for Evangeline.
People trickled out as the auction wore on. Beckett left after losing a tool kit. Over an hour later, Madison grew tense as her item came up. The auctioneer read from the sheet.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen, this next one’s a winner. Dewitt Marina has kindly donated a sailing/regatta package. Lessons taught by sailing enthusiast Evan Higgins. Learn how to race on the beautiful Ohio River, just in time for our 45th Annual River Sail Regatta, and sail with Evan
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