Page 23 of Small Town Sash

"Former Miss Peachville, right?" Kerry asked, recognition flickering in her eyes.

Hadley nodded and braced herself for the expected beauty queen commentary.

Instead, Kerry leaned in and cheerfully whispered, "Same. And let me tell you, these food drives are harder than any pageant I've ever competed in."

Both women erupted into laughter and instantly bonded over their shared experiences.

Quick as a flash, Hadley piled the cups back onto the table. "If you think this is hard, try teaching the Sunday school kids to make pasta salad," she said, grinning at the memory. "The mayonnaise disaster of 2022 will go down in history."

Kerry chuckled warmly. "I can imagine. But you know, it's all worth it." She gestured around at the organized chaos of the food drive.

Hadley nodded in agreement. She wasn't just Miss Peachville or Hadley 'the beauty queen' here. She was simply Hadley, lending a helping hand wherever she could.

Just then, Pastor Bowman shuffled past, huffing under an overstuffed sack of potatoes. In typical comedic fashion, a stray spud wriggled from his hold.

"Catch that tot," he bellowed as it rolled away.

Hadley made a sprint for it, sliding on her knees across the polished floor and catching it just before it bumped into a precarious tower of canned beans. With a triumphant grin, she held up the potato. Everyone in the hall cheered.

"Marvelous save," Kerry exclaimed.

Pastor Bowman chuckled heartily. "Hadley Wilder, our very own Potato Superhero."

And for the rest of the day, Hadley wasn't known as Miss Peachville or even just Hadley. She had become Hadley 'the Potato Superhero,' and she figured there were worse things to be.

Later, at Candace's dress shop, Hadley stood amidst fabrics and sketches, her blue eyes sparkling with every new pattern and texture she touched.

"Think of the dress as a canvas," Candace instructed, her petite frame moving energetically around the room. "You're the artist, and this," she said, handing Hadley a pencil, "is your brush."

"Is it always this thrilling?" Hadley asked, her hand unconsciously gliding over a swath of silk, imagining the possibilities.

"Only when you love it," Candace replied, her hazel eyes reflecting a shared excitement.

"Maybe I do," Hadley murmured, the pencil in her hand feeling like she found a new piece of herself. "Maybe I really do."

Then again, Hadley's life always had an interesting twist when Braden Harding was involved. She'd been trying to avoid him, but there he was, outside the shop window.

Candace noticed her gaze. "Better not let that one slip away."

"He's not slipping," Hadley replied, biting her lip. "He seems to turn up a lot lately."

"You're Miss Sweet Corn Queen," Candace reminded her, grinning. "You can handle one little ol' Sergeant Harding."

Suddenly, Braden looked straight at them through the window as if he sensed them talking about him. His gaze met Hadley's, and he cracked a small smile.

"Fine," Hadley said, preparing herself for the encounter. She pushed open the door to the shop and walked outside.

Braden leaned against his red Ford F-150. "Hadley," he greeted her with a smirk. "Need a ride home?"

She shook her head. "I have work to do still.”

"You want to grab dinner after?"

"Sorry, I can't. My mom has me on a tight schedule with the pageant coming up. I barely got away for a couple of hours."

"You know, you should really start making decisions for yourself, Hadley. You're a grown woman, and it isn't right you're so beholden to your mother."

"Easy for you to say. You have no idea how hard all of this is on me," Hadley snapped. Instantly regretting her reaction, her tone softened, "Sorry, Braden. It's just...complicated."

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