Page 44 of The Promise in Poppies
Throughout the morning and afternoon, they’d strolled the festival, mingling with volunteers clothed in period costumes, sampling delicious food inspired by hearty gold rush fare, and participating in the quirky fun and games.
For a fleeting moment, she’d felt like a part of the town again, as if a fresh start hovered just beyond her reach. But no matter how desperately she longed for a second chance, she couldn’t shake the dark cloud looming over her shoulder, its oppressive weight felt but never seen. She knew it was only a matter of time before she had to face the past. Especially now, with the entire town converged in one place.
A collective cheer erupted in the air, dragging Donna from her melancholy musings. Rhett tossed her a grin as the opposing team celebrated their victory. He may have lost the relay, but from the look on his face as he congratulated his son, he’d won in all the ways that mattered.
He trotted toward her, beaming broadly, and she loved the way it illuminated his handsome features. “Did you save me any?”
She glanced at the empty bag of taffies. “Apparently not. But in my defense, it took you eons to get that fire going.” Her lips twitched.
“Hey, have you ever started a fire using a flint? It’s one step above rubbing two sticks together.” He flashed a good-natured grin, more playful than defensive.
Not for the first time, Donna’s appreciation for his sense of humor deepened. He knew how to find joy in life, even when it felt elusive—one of the many reasons she’d fallen for him.
The unexpected realization startled her, and heat blazed across her cheeks. She admired Rhett. She respected him. She even enjoyed spending time with him. But had shefallenfor him?
“I hope you saved room alongside all that taffy for some hand-cranked ice cream,” he teased, snapping her out of her trance.
She summoned a shaky smile. “Always.”
“I’ll stand in line if you want to save our spot to watch the next relay. I think it involves hauling buckets of water through an obstacle course, which is bound to be entertaining. What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Lemon.”
He closed his eyes and tapped the left side of his temple.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making a mental note for the next time I buy you ice cream.” He opened his eyes and grinned again, making her stomach spin.
As he strode toward the homemade ice cream stand, her heart performed a funny little flutter, leaving no doubt in her mind. For the first time in years—no, for the first timeever—her fears had dissipated long enough for love to sneak through the crevices. Genuine, life-altering, soul-bearing love. The kind of love she found equal parts thrilling and intimidating. And she had no idea what to do about it.
Reeling with a disorienting mix of anxiety and exhilaration, Donna dug her hand into the brown paper bag containing their most recent snack purchase. They hadn’t shown much restraint when it came to the plethora of historically inspired treats and had readily agreed it was all part of the experience. With other men, she might’ve tried to suppress or minimize her appetite, but with Rhett, it never even occurred to her.
She tore off a chunk of warm, spongy sourdough, barely registering the tangy medley of flavors as it melted on her tongue. Falling for Rhett wasn’t in the grand plan. Not that she had much of a plan, to be honest. She still hadn’t decided when to head home, but she couldn’t impose on Kat’s generosity much longer. Not to mention, she lived with a constant knot in the pit of her stomach, a physical manifestation of a niggling feeling that Stephanie needed her. Their phone calls had become even shorter and more infrequent, and whenever they did talk, she couldn’t shake the unsettling suspicion that Steph wasn’t being completely honest with her.
Donna cast her gaze around the festive town square, alive with laughter and merriment. Vendor booths lined all four streets, offering locally made gifts and wares, and the silent auction was in full swing in the library, drawing an eager crowd. Along the creek bed behind Main Street, a live reenactment of a mining camp offered visitors a rare glimpse into the life of a miner as well as an opportunity to partake in immersive activities like gold panning. The whole affair was vibrant, boisterous, and more than a little bit unusual. And Stephanie would love it.
Impulsively, Donna pulled out her phone, her pulse quickening with each unanswered ring.
“Hello?” Stephanie groaned, hoarse and groggy.
“Did I wake you?” Donna asked in surprise. It was almost four o’clock.
“I had a late night. What’s up?”
“A late night?” Donna echoed warily. “Anything fun?”
“Just hanging out with some friends. Are you still in Mayberry?”
Donna couldn’t help but smile as the next round of relay racers were handed metal buckets. They’d have to draw water from a large barrel then haul two buckets filled to the brim through a series of obstacles without spilling or sloshing. Whoever had the fullest buckets by the end would win. If only Steph could see the accuracy of her joke. “I am. And I was thinking, why don’t you come visit?”
“Visit?” Concern crept into Stephanie’s tone. “But I thought you were coming back soon. Weren’t you just going to help out for a few days?”
Donna winced against a sudden pang of guilt. While the length of her trip had always been indeterminate, she had alluded to it being short-term. She’d imagined visiting sporadically, as needed, then maybe staying a bit longer when the baby arrived. The shorter her stay, the fewer opportunities for her past to catch up with her. A reality she seemed to have forgotten lately.
“You’ve been gone for ages,” Stephanie continued, cementing her point with an exaggerated whimper. “Nothing’s the same without you. At the last meeting, Margery monopolized nearly an entire hour with a eulogy for her Chia Pet. And the snacks weren’t even that good. I honestly don’t know how I survived.”
Donna wanted to simultaneously laugh at Stephanie’s lament and weep with relief. The last time she’d asked about her meeting attendance, Steph had avoided her question.
