The man chuckled. “The Cougar moms’ bark is worse than their bite. But I’ve got to tell you. It’s good to see Elverna bouncing back.”
A warm sensation settled in her chest. “Yeah, the town’s worked hard these last few years to turn things around.”
Shaun sighed. “After the factory closed and my grandparents had to sell their farm, it broke a lot of hardworking people. There are far too many old farming towns that look more like ghost towns. It’s good to see folks investing in the community,” he added.
She nodded, unable to speak, when a teenage girl wearing a brightly colored scarf tied in a French knot walked up to them.
“What’s going on, Dad?” she asked, glancing from her father to the bleachers where the boys were tearing through the stack of papers under the cougars’ watchful eyes.
“Your mom’s helping this lady and her friend with a project,” he answered.
“Who are you?” the girl asked, narrowing her gaze.
“I’m Mabel. I like your scarf,” she replied, recalling when she’d posted a tutorial on how to tie the perfect French knot. It had only been a few months ago, but so much had changed. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she’d donned Bella Mae’s identity.
Shaun patted his daughter’s shoulder. “It looks like you’ve found a fellow fashion fan, honey.”
Mabel froze.
“Our Kayla lives online looking at those trendy clothing sites and reading those fancy shoe blogs,” Shaun continued.
Mabel swallowed past the lump in her throat. “How fun.”
The teen proudly touched the tails of the scarf. “That’s how I learned to wear my scarf like this. I watched a lady do it online. It’s called a French knot.”
“Is it?” Mabel whispered, knowing damned well it was a French knot. And also knowing that there was a good chance she’d learned the technique from Bella Mae.
“Mabel’s from the Eat Elverna farming initiative,” Shaun said, cutting into the conversation.
The girl stared at her. Her gaze slid down to the charm at her neck, then farther down to her crossbody purse, resting at her hip. “Do I know you from somewhere, Mabel?” the teen asked, giving her the once-over.
Mabel pressed her hand to the M and tucked it beneath her shirt. “I don’t think so,” she stammered.
Kayla frowned, staring intently, as the breath caught in Mabel’s throat. Could this girl have recognized her as Bella Mae? She never showed her face on her debunked fashion blog. But that didn’t stop someone from connecting the dots, and for the first time, she realized that there was a good chance that the person who’d called her out on social media was from around here.
“Have you heard of the Castle King?” Mabel asked before she could stop herself.
The teen chewed her lip. “The castle what? Is that a new fashion label?”
“No, it’s nothing,” Mabel replied, relief flooding her system until the girl gasped.
“Wait! I do know you from online.” Kayla exclaimed.
“My mom follows you. I love that your boyfriend named his kitten after you, and you named your cute baby goat after him,” the teen cooed.
Mabel swallowed hard. “He’s not my boyfriend. We work together.”
“Are you sure? It looks like you guys are totally into each other,” the teen continued, eyeing her closely when the piercing whistle sliced through the air, blessedly cutting the conversation short as cheers came from the children and the Cougar moms.
“Kayla, sweetheart, come take a picture of us,” Kathy called to the teen.
“It was nice to meet you,” the girl said, then jogged toward the women encircling Cal like a group of sharks who’d gotten a whiff of fresh meat.
Shaun followed a step behind his daughter. “Good luck with the farmers’ market. We’re heading there after the game,” he added from over his shoulder.
“Sounds good,” she replied with a slight wave, then released a shaky breath.
That was close.
Her homecoming had been such a whirlwind, she’d hardly given much thought to the Castle King’s identity. But she couldn’t go asking around willy-nilly about the Castle King—at least, not today. There was too much at stake. And the whole “Is Cal your boyfriend thing?” wasn’t exactly terrible. But there were an awful lot of pictures of them together. She’d need to throw in some more food swoon.
Mabel watched as Kayla took the photo of Cal and the Cougars. Then, he carefully extricated himself from their roving hands, gathered up the papers, then headed her way. With his hair mussed and his shirt untucked, he looked as if he’d walked into a tornado. But the smile stretched across his face spoke volumes.
“I think we can safely say that I took one for the team,” he said, coming to her side.
She pushed aside her Castle King worries, then smoothed an errant lock of his honey-brown hair. “Agreed! You did good!”
“And the Cougar moms said they’d post about the farmers’ market on their personal social media accounts. We might need all of these,” Cal added, tapping the stack of passports with a look of wonder in his eyes.
She glanced at her watch as a fresh jolt of adrenaline surged through her body. The farmers’ market was scheduled to start in less than fifteen minutes.
“That’s really kind of them, but we’ve got to get moving.” She glanced from Cal’s truck to the town square. “It’s quicker for us to walk. Plus, we need to figure out what we’re going to say to the farmers.”
“Like a pep talk?” he asked as they set off.
“Yeah, we need everyone on the same page when it comes to interacting with the clientele.”
“I think you should be the one to address the group,” he said as they crossed the street.
“Why me?” she asked, that adrenaline burst not receding in the least.
He stopped and stared ahead. “Because what you’ve managed to pull together in less than two weeks is nothing short of a miracle.”
She glanced up at him, then observed the town square. Dotted with booths bursting with color and brimming with luscious fruits and vegetables, cheeses, pies, jams, and mason jars stacked tall and filled with golden honey, the members of the Elverna Sustainable Farming Initiative had followed her instructions to a tee. The space was both functional and visually inviting. She and Cal crossed under a broad banner with Eat Elverna written in bold green letters, and that’s when it hit her.
This was it. If today was a success, her bank account would no longer report a negative balance. And while that’s what she wanted. It wasn’t everything that mattered—not anymore.
Cal set the passports on a table at the entrance, and she walked into the center of the square. The side conversations stopped, and all eyes fell on her.
But not everyone was feeling confident.
She could see the worry on their faces, then her gaze fell upon her father, standing at the Muldowney Farms booth next to Kenny and Abe. His expression remained stony, but imperceptible to anyone else, he gave her the hint of a nod—a minute movement that she’d longed for her entire life. Elias Muldowney didn’t heap on the praise. It wasn’t his way. But he did give credit when credit was due. That nod—that tiny movement was his way of cheering her on.