Page 22 of Horn of Plenty
Mabel waved for the group to come closer. “Ladies, we’re in a bit of a bind. And if you could help us out, I’m sure Cal would be happy to take a picture with you.”
The women shrieked with excitement as Cal’s head whipped toward her.
“I will?” he asked, throwing a side-glance at the salivating assembly of horny homemakers.
She checked her watch. “Yes, you absolutely positively would be delighted to take a photo in exchange for assistance with our passport situation.”
“Anything for Cal! What do you need?” Kathy offered.
Mabel handed the woman the canister of pens and an assport. “If you could get your kids to add the letterPto the top of the paper, that would mean the world to us.”
Another Cougar mom stepped forward and glanced at the sheet. “I RSVP’d for this! It’s the Eat Elverna passport contest, right?”
“Yes, and it starts soon. And, as you can see, we need a lot ofPs.”
The Cougar moms huddled and began speaking in hushed tones. They were either strategizing about how to organize the children or planning a way to kidnap Cal. From the way the women kept glancing at her befuddled broody farmer, it could have gone either way.
“Mabel,” he whispered like a man being offered up as a human sacrifice.
She shushed him. “It’s in the hands of the Cougars now. Smile pretty!”
With a clap and a round of high fives, Kathy turned to them. “We’ll do it!”
“Come on, Cougar moms, let’s go, go, go!” another woman exclaimed.
The mothers dispersed. Women on a mission, they headed toward the kids as Kathy removed the whistle hanging from around her husband’s neck. She sucked in an audible breath, then blew into that poor piece of metal like she needed to dislodge a piece of chewing gum from its cavity. The shrill sound pierced the air, and the children froze.
“Everyone to the bleachers! We’re going to practice writing the letterPbefore this game starts! If you want to play today, you’ll have toPfirst,” she ordered, then turned to Cal and drank him in again before weaving her arm in with his. “And you’re coming with me, handsome,” she added, leading Cal toward the mass of children.
It was a sight to see. Sports moms were a breed unto their own. Within seconds, the children were at it, correcting assport after assport. Mabel pressed her hand to her lips to suppress a grin as the cougars closed in on her broody—and now quite uncomfortable—farmer. He caught her gaze and mouthed, “help.”
“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” she asked Shaun.
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.”
