“Oh my goodness—I can hardly believe we won!” Kitty said with a giggle while she, Martha, and Liberty admired the 1st-Place ribbon that fluttered at the front of their schoolhouse booth.
“I know.” Liberty’s tone was lackluster. She should have been giddy with excitement like the swarms of children buzzing the festival grounds after too much rock candy, but somehow the win was bittersweet.
Somehow? Libby cast a razor-thin peek over her shoulder at Finn’s booth, where a host of children and ladies still hovered despite the fact that all booths were now closed for the potluck.
Martha gently brushed the blue ribbon, a look of awe shining on her face. “I honestly didn’t think we’d stand a chance since Finn’s booth is so amazing, but I’m overjoyed we did.” She looped her arm through Libby’s. “What are you going to do with your share of the award money, Libby?”
Hire a gunslinger. “I’d like to donate it to the National American Woman Suffrage Association, I think.” So women can put reprobates like Finn McShane in their place.
“I’m going to buy that dress I’ve been drooling over in Mort’s Mercantile,” Kitty said with a thrust of her chin, “then donate the rest to Pastor and Mrs. Poppy for that church bell they’ve been wanting so badly.” She looped an arm around Martha’s waist. “How ’bout you, Martha?”
Martha sighed. “I would love to buy a year’s supply of Mrs. Poppy’s award-winning cake because nobody bakes like the pastor’s wife.”
Kitty laughed. “I’m with you there. Mrs. Poppy’s cakes always give me a warm, satisfied feeling inside, so it’s no wonder she wins hands-down every single year.” She nudged Liberty’s shoulder with her own. “Sorry your chocolate fudge pie came in second, Libs, but at least you get to enjoy Mrs. Poppy’s award-winning cake at her house later tonight. And with the most handsome man in town to boot.”
“Not if I can help it,” Libby muttered, eyes narrowing when another glimpse at the V&T booth revealed the blackguard was flirting his fool head off.
Kitty blinked, confusion furrowing her brow. “But I thought you said you and Finn talked everything out last night. That you were looking forward to seeing him at the Poppys’ after the fireworks so you could serve him a piece of your famous chocolate fudge pie.”
“We did,” Liberty said with a tight smile. “And I most definitely am.” Her gaze was a knife point. Laced with a double dose of ipecac.
“All this talk about food is making me hungry,” Martha said, “so we should probably close up and go to the potluck.”
Liberty checked the watch pinned to her bodice. “Great balls of fire! I need to round up those performing in the talent show to give them final instructions.”
Kitty tapped Liberty’s arm. “Uh, don’t look now, Libs, but your handsome co-chair is headed this way.”
Liberty glanced over her shoulder, and sleet shot through her veins when she spied Finn breaking free from his crowd of admirers to amble her way. “Tell him I left for the potluck,” she hissed, pulse pumping as she darted around the booth to enter the back. Before he could make it to their side of the field, Liberty had the makeshift schoolroom doors bolted tight. Her breathing shallowed as she wedged herself deep in the corner.
“Congratulations, ladies, on the win,” she heard Finn say, “although I sure hated to lose that prize money.” He paused. “Where’s Libby?”
“Uh, she l-left for the p-potluck, I think,” Kitty lied, the wobble of her voice far from convincing.
“Are you sure?” Finn’s tone clearly conveyed his doubt, and Libby squeezed her eyes shut as he continued, barely able to breathe. “Because I could have sworn I saw her over here.”
“She w-was, Finn, but she didn’t want to be late for the potluck,” Martha volunteered in a weak tone.
Kitty’s voice rose several octaves. “But we’re on our way there now, so why don’t we walk over together?”
“Thanks, Kitty, but I’m on my way to help Milo shut down his booth, so I’ll see you ladies there, all right?”
“Sure,” Kitty and Martha said in unison, and Liberty allowed a slow release of air through her lips. The last thing she wanted was to speak with that womanizing skunk right now, and after dessert at the Poppys’ tonight, she planned to never talk to him again.
Waiting in silence for several moments to make sure the coast was clear, Libby tiptoed over to peek out the back door and expelled a silent sigh, satisfied that she was finally alone. Relieved, she slipped out to make her way to the potluck, where at least she could disappear into the crowd.
“Howdy, Libs.”
Liberty vaulted at least two inches in the air before she whirled to see Finn butted against the side of their booth, arms in a casual fold.
He delivered a lazy smile. “I thought we decided the potluck would be in the barn.”
“Blue blistering blazes, you scared me half to death!” she rasped, hand to her chest as she forced herself to breathe.
His smile faded as sobriety bled into his tone, gaze tender. “And you’re scaring me half to death too, darlin’, the way you’re avoiding me like you are.”
Her jaw hardened as she glared right back, not willing to give him a chance to soften her defenses. “I’ve been busy,” she said, spinning on her heel to take her leave.
Finn fell into step beside her, his long legs easily keeping up with her hurried pace. “Yeah, busy avoiding me, and I want to know why.”
She yanked her skirts up to quicken her stride, ignoring him and all the curious stares coming their way. “Why don’t you ask Jo Beth, you … you … wolf in sheep’s clothing!”
“Whoa!” He clamped a hand to her wrist to turn her around, latching firm palms to both of her arms. “Where in tarnation did that come from?”
“From the lips of a woman you’ve bamboozled for the last time, Finn McShane, so you can just pack up your sweet talk and peddle it to Jo Beth.”
“Now just hold on right there, woman, because we need to talk.”
She jerked free, eyes blazing like wildfire. “You mean ‘kiss,’ don’t you, Finn? Because that’s how you get your way with all the ladies, isn’t it, you two-timing Romeo?” Reloading with another ragged breath, she blasted him with everything she had, taking deadly aim. “Well, I’m done talking or whatever you want to call it. Because you are nothing but a low-down, no-good womanizing varmint, Finn McShame, just like your father, cheating and stealing from innocent women before you leave them high and dry.”
His face went so pale, she could see the black stubble on his jaw. Her heart lurched at the pain she saw in his eyes and knew she should stop. But all she could see was all the times he’d hurt her over the years and taken advantage whenever it suited his fancy. In the space of one ragged heartbeat, the fire in her belly whooshed out of control and she stepped in to bludgeon his chest with a finger. “My daddy said you were a fortune hunter from the get-go, but I didn’t believe him till now, playing one banker’s daughter against the other. I didn’t trust you growing up, Finn McShane, and I sure don’t trust you now. As far as I’m concerned, this is just another one of your pranks to hurt me all over again, and there’s nothing you can do or say that will change my mind.”
He blinked, the shock in his eyes darkening from hurt into anger. A tic flickered in his cheek as he slowly removed her finger, his manner deadly calm. “Then I guess I best be on my way,” he said quietly, leaving a hole in Liberty’s chest when he turned and walked away.
“You do that,” she shouted, not one bit concerned there were still people milling about. “You go on back to Jo Beth and her daddy’s money so you can ruin her life like you just ruined mine.”
She slapped at the tears webbing her lashes, wondering why she felt so darn guilty.
“Hey, Libs, where’s Finn going in such an all-fire hurry?”
She turned on Milo Parks like a desert dust storm, ready to spew on Finn’s best friend like she just had on Finn. Eyes weighting closed, she forced herself to calm down, hand pressed to her stomach to keep from railing on her boss. “I don’t know and I don’t care,” she whispered, as furious over the tears blurring her eyes as she was at Finn.
Cocking a hip, Milo nudged his hat up. “Well, you should, because he sure in the devil cares about you.”
“Ha!” She clutched her arms to her waist, thrusting her chin to keep it from trembling. “Finn McShane only cares about two things, Milo Parks, and that’s his almighty bank account and breaking women’s hearts.”
“That so?” Milo matched her stance with a loose fold of arms. “Then suppose you tell me why he didn’t win the contest?”
Her jaw notched up several degrees. “The women of this town finally wised up?”
“Nope.” Milo scratched the back of his head, gaze glued to hers. “He withdrew.”
She blinked, then blinked again. “I don’t believe it. That prize money would go a long way in helping to pay off his almighty loan.” She flung an arm towards the V&T steam engine, nose scrunched as if she could still smell that blasted smoke. “He went to all that trouble to dazzle his admirers, so why in blue blazes would he withdraw?”
“I don’t know—maybe ’cause he cares more for some hot-headed woman than he does the money? You tell me.”
“Prairie Poop!” she shouted, not giving a flip who heard her swear. “Maybe you should ask the woman he plans to marry.”
Milo leaned in with a hard gleam in his eyes, hands on his hips. “I-am.”
Liberty swallowed hard, hands shaking as she balled them at her sides. “What are you talking about, Milo? He took Jo Beth home from the dance last night, right after he had the nerve to kiss me, when he was planning to propose to her all along.”
Milo bent in, practically nose to nose. “Says-who?”
Libby thrust a thumbnail to her mouth, chewing a sliver off before spitting it back out. “Jo Beth, of course. I overheard her tell Bettie that”—Libby plastered a hand over her heart with a toss of her head, mimicking Jo Beth with an exaggerated bat of her eyes—“‘I think that gorgeous man is finally going to propose.’” Another splinter of nail sailed through the air
Milo pinched the bridge of his nose, smile flat and tone dry. “Of course.”
“Well, he took her home last night, didn’t he?” Liberty countered with a purse of her lips, “and Nellie Sue told Kristi Lemp that Finn came in to buy Jo Beth a wedding ring just two weeks ago.” Liberty crossed her arms with great drama, her anger helping to temper some of her hurt. “So how do you answer that?”
Milo gave a slow nod. “Yes, he took Jo Beth home last night because it was her birthday and he promised to celebrate it with her and her family months ago.”
Pthu! Another shred of nail shot into the air. “Well, smarty-pants, how do you explain the wedding ring, then?” she challenged, staunch in her efforts to keep any and all tears at bay.
Milo shook his head, lips skewed in disbelief. “You know, Liberty, you may have been valedictorian at Vassar, but when it comes to love, you can be pretty darn stupid.” He angled in, gaze sharp as he gave full vent to a scowl. “He bought a ring all right, Miss O’Shea, but not for Jo Beth.”
A cold chill chased all blood from her face. She gulped. “F-for who, then?”
“For you, you mule-headed woman. Blue blazes, Liberty—I didn’t even know the man liked you, much less planned to marry you! May as well whopped me with a dad-burned two-ton press—couldn’t have stunned me more. Told me just this morning he planned to propose after he paid off his loan, which if Jo Beth finds out he broke it off with her this morning to take up with you, may take a whole lot longer than he hoped.”
An odd mix of joy and grief rolled in her stomach. “He … he broke it off with Jo Beth?”
Milo’s lips took a twist. “Don’t know if they taught you this in that fancy school of yours, Libs, but bigamy is frowned upon in these here parts.”
Liberty cupped hands to her mouth, heart suddenly light as air. “He wasn’t lying to me,
then …”
“Uh, no, because contrary to your long-held beliefs, the man is rather partial to the truth.”
The truth. Liberty gasped. “Oh, no!” She peered up at Milo with frantic eyes. “I said awful things to him, Milo, hateful things about both him and his father.”
A low groan slipped from Milo’s lips. “Sweet soul-saving mercy, Liberty, the man has spent his entire life trying to be everything his father wasn’t, desperate to erase the damage done to both his family and his name. And you throw it all in his face?”
“I … I didn’t know …” she whispered, heart aching over the damage she’d done.
“Well you do now, woman, so you need to fix it. But I’m warning you—it won’t be easy. I’ve been Finn’s best friend since we’ve been crawling in cow pastures, and the one time I compared him to his old man, he didn’t talk to me for nigh on three months.”
“But he finally did, right?” Liberty cast him a hopeful look.
Milo turned away to tunnel fingers through his hair, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “Yeah, he finally did, but not without a whole lot of fancy finagling, I can tell you that.”
A slow grin eased across Liberty’s face. “I can finagle,” she said with a chew of her lip, “and I smell a whole lot better than you.”
His laughter rang out as he looped an arm to her shoulders. “That you do, Libs, and you can light a fire under that boy faster than anybody I’ve ever seen. But I’ll tell you what, Miss O’Shea, when you two finally do get together?” He gave her a wink while he ushered her to the barn, shaking his head along the way. “It’ll be Fourth of July every bloomin’ day of the year.”