Page 190 of Huckleberry Hill
“It’s more than a nest egg, Hadley. I did really well on the rodeo circuit and I didn’t blow it on stupid shit. I’ve made some investments . . .”
“Meaning?”
He looked at me and grinned. “Meaning, I can build you the house of your dreams.”
I covered his hand with mine and stroked him. “No regrets then?”
“None.”
“Jeez, you’re perfect.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you think so.”
Downtown was already buzzing and Silver Street had been blocked off from parking. We drove down a side street near Sweet Teeth to try and find an alley to park in and saw swarms of people.
“Whoa,” Declan said. “You think this is festival traffic or Sweet Teeth traffic?”
“Both? I thought for sure Sweet Teeth would’ve slowed down at least a little bit since their video, but it’s been this way for at least a week.”
Declan finally found a spot three blocks away. We got out of the truck and I set Tempest on the ground, ensuring I had a good handle on her leash.
We headed in the direction of downtown, passing neighborhood houses that had been around since the inception of the town. They were painted cheery, bright colors and for the festivities they’d decorated their porches with mushroom paraphernalia. One house had a full-sized stained-glass morel mushroom in the window.
Declan and I walked hand in hand toward the fray. A jam band playing 90s country covers had set up in the middle of the festival. There were booths of all kinds. Arts and crafts, mushroom tonics, foods featuring mushrooms.
My stomach rumbled.
Declan laughed. “I heard that.”
I tugged him toward the booth that had meat pies with mushrooms. “I forgot my purse.”
“I’m your wallet, Hadley,” he said with a chuckle, handing over bills to the cashier.
I gave Tempest’s leash to Declan and took the meat pie. I carefully unwrapped the foil and my mouth watered at the smell of spices and a homemade pastry shell.
Declan and I moved off to the side to enjoy the food. I was in the middle of a bite when I heard, “Mia, can I pet the goat?”
“Ask first,” a petite brunette said.
A gangly dark-haired boy who couldn’t be older than thirteen approached. “Do you mind if I pet your goat?”
“Sure thing,” Declan said. “She likes people.”
The boy crouched down and held his hand out to Tempest. “This is so cool.”
“You’ve seen a goat before.” Mia smiled. “At the Texas State Fair, remember? You even got to milk one.”
“Yeah, but I’ve never seen a goat on a leash,” the boy replied with a grin. He shoved his too-long hair out of his eyes.
Tempest leaned against his knee, eager for more attention.
“Where’s Colt?” the boy asked. “Scarlett would love to pet a goat.”
“He’s buying her that stuffed mushroom plush toy. The one she wouldn’t let go of. They’ll catch up to us in a minute.” She looked at me and smiled. “My toddler was about to have a meltdown. We’re not above bribery.”
I laughed. “Well, you have to do what you have to do. Where are you guys visiting from?”
“What, you don’t think we’re locals?” Mia asked with a wry grin.
