Page 29 of Small Town Sash

"All right," Hadley stood up straight, her curvy frame poised with a newfound determination. "It's time for us to show them what we're really made of."

"Lead the way, Your Highness," Braden teased as he watched her glide toward the stage.

A few minutes later, Braden leaned back in his chair, watching Hadley practice her elegant stage walk. The subtle sway of her hips and the assuredness in her step captivated him until a hushed but harsh voice sliced through his focus.

"Did you hear about the latest?" Mrs. Matilda Shomacker's voice carried lobbing scandal over the heads of the gathered locals. She stood, a gaudy floral dress clinging to her ample frame, just outside the circle of pageant mothers and their hopeful daughters.

"Can't say I have, Matilda," Mrs. Balster, the pharmacy clerk and beacon of church gossip, replied, leaning in with an eagerness that belied her usually pious demeanor.

"Word is," Mrs. Shomacker said, eyes glinting with mischievous triumph, "that young Hadley's got herself tangled up well and good with that Air Force man. What's his name? Braden Harding?"

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd like a wave crashing against the shore. Heads turned, eyes searched, and whispers bloomed like unwanted weeds in a garden.

"Surely not," Mrs. Balster clucked, though her tone suggested more interest than disbelief.

"More than friends, they say," Mrs. Shomacker continued, relishing in the rapt attention, "and here I thought she was a serious contender, but goodness knows, she should be disqualified for carrying on with a judge."

"Scandalous," someone muttered.

"Unseemly," added another.

"It'll cost her the crown," a third chimed in, the words heavy with faux concern.

Braden straightened, his jaw setting firm. Dash, at his side, let out a low growl as if sensing the unease in his partner.

"Hey," Braden called out, his voice steady but strong enough to cut through the murmurs. Heads swiveled toward him, and he could feel the weight of the community's scrutiny pressing down. "That's not true. You all need to get your facts straight."

"Braden," Hadley's alarmed voice rose from the stage. Her eyes, wide and blue as the summer sky, met his. He gave her a small nod, a silent promise he was in her corner.

"Isn't it, though?" Mrs. Shomacker challenged—all bluster and bloated confidence. "Why else would a soldier be lurking around Hadley all day and night?"

"Because he's a decent guy, maybe?" Hadley descended the steps, her black hair swishing defiance with every step.

"Or perhaps," Braden interjected, "because he's here to train with his search and rescue dog." He gestured to Dash, whose tail now wagged as if he understood his role in debunking the rumors, "and got roped into judging a pageant against his will."

"Search and rescue," Mrs. Shomacker scoffed. "More like hanky panky."

"Matilda, must you really," Mrs. Balster chided gently, though her eyes danced with unspoken delight at the drama unfolding.

"Listen," Hadley said, crossing the space to stand by Braden. "We're friends, all right? Just friends."

"Friends who seem awfully cozy," Mrs. Shomacker shot back.

"Cozy?" Braden echoed with a laugh that lacked its usual warmth. "You ever seen two people less cozy? I mean, we can't even agree on what to eat."

"True," Hadley conceded, playing along. "He wants barbecue; I want sushi. It's a no-win situation."

"Barbecue is the best," Braden confirmed, rolling his eyes. "But she's all about that raw fish life."

The crowd tittered, the tension breaking like a popped balloon.

"Ah, young love," Mrs. Shomacker muttered with a sneer. "You prove my point for me."

"Don't you have anything better to do than gossip?" Braden retorted, quick as a flash. "Meddling isn't a good look for anyone."

Mrs. Shomacker glowered at them, her cheeks reddening as her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Fine. Have it your way."

"And stay out of my business," Hadley added for good measure. She shot Braden a triumphant look, her blue eyes sparkling with glee.

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