Page 19 of Small Town Sash

"Great," she muttered. "I'm one more incident away from being a walking scandal."

The night pressed in, thick with her sighs. Her phone buzzed—a message from Candace: "Keep your chin up, Queen."

"Queen of the lonely hearts club," Hadley typed back, then erased. She settled for a simple heart emoji instead.

"Enough drama to fill a rom-com," she told her stuffed bear, the confidant of her youth. It stared back, judgment-free and plush.

"Cut to the heroine, wallowing in bed," she said aloud, scripting her own misery. "Fade to black."

The moonlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a cold glow. Hadley turned away, curling into herself. If only wishes were crowns, she'd rule a happier kingdom.

"Tomorrow," she promised the darkness. "I'll be braver tomorrow."

But tonight, she was just Hadley—discouraged, alone, and without a way to make herself feel any better about her situation.

Chapter Six

Braden's sneakers rubbed the carpet as he paced the narrow confines of his room. Dash, with a quizzical tilt to his head, trailed a few paces behind, his leash dragging like an abandoned lifeline. Braden grimaced, snatching up the leash and planting a hand on his hip.

"Sorry, pal," he muttered to the golden retriever, who responded with a forgiving nuzzle against his palm. "Just got a lot on my plate."

Dash woofed softly as if to say he understood, but his brown eyes seemed to demand more attention than Braden could afford at the moment. Between the rigorous training sessions, his partner's need for consistency, and the unexpected duty of judging a beauty pageant—which frankly felt like navigating a minefield in clown shoes—Braden was stretched thinner than the last slice of Sunday roast at a family dinner.

Hadley…her image flickered in his mind. Black hair spilled over her peach-colored shoulders, and those piercing blue eyes that could stop a man—or at least him—in his tracks. He shook his head, attempting to dislodge her from his thoughts as effectively as Dash shedding water after a bath.

"Need to clear my head," he announced, more to himself than to Dash, who wagged his tail in agreement. "Maybe going to church will help."

A half-hour later, the church loomed ahead, its white steeple piercing the clear blue sky like an arrow. Braden always found something soothing about an old building like this one, with its stained-glass windows and the way the wooden pews creaked with history. Maybe a dose of the divine would untangle the knot of obligations tightening in his chest.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered, pushing open the heavy door where murmurs and the scent of polished wood greeted him. He slid into a back pew, the wood cool against his hands, and exhaled slowly. The preacher's voice rolled over the congregation, waves of calm that Braden desperately needed to ride.

"Lord," he prayed silently, "help me find the balance."

Dash sat obediently by his feet, embodying the patience Braden wished he could muster. As his gaze wandered over the bowed heads and clasped hands, it snagged on a familiar form—Hadley, her silhouette unmistakable even at a distance.

"Focus," he chided himself, rubbing his temples. He knew it was a lost cause to ask himself to sit in church and not think about Hadley. It was like asking Dash to ignore a squirrel scampering across their path—futile.

"Maybe after this, we'll go for a long run, eh?" he suggested to Dash, who perked up at the prospect, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil of his human companion. "Keep it together, Harding," Braden muttered under his breath, hoping for a miracle or at least a signpost to guide him through the chaos of his life.

Braden leaned forward, elbows on his knees, as the preacher's voice swelled. "And it is in balancing our duties with our passions that we find harmony," boomed the reverend, hissermon slicing through Braden's haze of worry like a lighthouse beam through fog.

"Talk about timing," Braden mumbled, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Dash's ears twitched at the sound of his voice, but the dog remained statue-still, a testament to his training.

A ripple of 'amens' washed through the congregation, and Braden found himself nodding along, the knot in his chest loosening just a hair. He was grateful for the unexpected guidance, like a life preserver tossed out into choppy seas.

"Needed that," he said to Dash, who offered a quiet sniff in response as if agreeing or perhaps just acknowledging the shift in Braden's demeanor.

As the final notes of a hymn filled the air, Braden stood, stretching legs that felt lighter than when he'd arrived. His eyes scanned the dispersing crowd, landing once again on Hadley. She was placing her hymnal back in its place, her black hair cascading down her back, the blue of her dress making her eyes pop even from this distance.

"Should probably say hi," Braden thought, feet carrying him closer before his brain fully agreed. "Hey there," he called out softly, not wanting to startle her in the serene space.

Hadley turned, her face brightening. "Braden, hi. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Could say the same," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sermon hit home for you too?"

"Absolutely," she laughed, the sound mingling with the lingering chatter of other churchgoers. "I swear, it's like he's got my mom on speed dial, feeding him my life story."

"I guess you could take it that way," Braden said with a shrug. "I'd like to think that the point is that we should not focus too much on either one, but find a way to make them both matter."

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