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Chapter Thirteen
“I tell you it was rigged.” Lilibeth Shoemaker tucked her cell phone in the back pocket of her snug blue jeans and rested her elbows on the waist-high wooden counter separating Hannah’s desk from the large open waiting area of the town hall. Light from the mullioned window above the large double doors created a halo out of Lilibeth’s blond hair. However, the effect was negated by narrowed blue eyes enhanced by dark eyeliner and pouting red lips. “There is no way Alanna Freeson should have won that and not me.” This last word was emphasized with a slap of the hand on the divider.
Hannah Douglas gave Lilibeth what she called her Customer Care smile while she typed a quick note on the application for a booth for the county fair Hannah was helping to organize. This year the fair was to be the biggest ever in honor of Jasper Gulch’s hundredth anniversary and Hannah was already behind. All morning she’d been fighting a headache, juggling her attention between her increasing workload and her concerns over her mother, who was babysitting Hannah’s twins. This morning her mother had shown up looking drawn and pale but, as usual, insisting everything was fine.
Lilibeth tapped a long zebra-striped fingernail on the counter as if to get Hannah’s attention. “I was told I had to talk to you about it.”
Hannah hit Enter, then turned her chair to devote her entire attention to Lilibeth. The young girl had flounced into the town hall a few minutes ago exuding an air of long suffering that Hannah knew masked a simmering frustration with losing the Miss Jasper Gulch contest. Though the winner had been crowned at the Fourth of July picnic, launching the town’s centennial festivities two months ago now, Lilibeth had complained loudly since then to anyone who would listen that she had been robbed. She was determined to get to the bottom of whatever conspiracy she seemed to think had been hatched.
“There’s nothing I can do,” Hannah said. “The contest is over and the winner has been determined.”
As she reasoned with Lilibeth, the heavy doors of the town hall office opened and a tall figure stepped inside the foyer. Though the entrance of the converted bank building boasted ten-foot-high ceilings, Brody Harcourt easily dominated the space and Hannah’s attention.
He stood in the doorway now, his eyes skimming the interior as he swept his cowboy hat off his dark hair. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up over muscular forearms and his ramrod-straight stance bespoke his firefighter training, but the sprinkle of straw on his brown cowboy hat probably came from working on the ranch he and his father owned. He glanced at the empty chairs lining one wall, interspersed with potted plants, but stayed standing.
“But you take minutes at the town council meetings, dontcha? Couldn’t you find out stuff for me?” Lilibeth’s question was underlined with a nervous tap, tap of her fingernail. As Hannah’s attention was drawn back to the young girl, she fought a yawn.
Chrissy, her thirteen-month-old daughter, was cutting teeth and she’d been up most of the night crying and feverish. Thankfully, her twin brother, Corey, had slept through all of the fussing. Unfortunately, Hannah had not. She’d spent most of the evening rocking Chrissy and walking the floor with her hoping her cries wouldn’t wake Miss Abigail Rose, who lived in the apartment beside Hannah’s above the hardware store. Miss Rose had been reluctant to continue subletting the adjoining apartment to Hannah precisely because of the twins. She had given in when Hannah’s mother had shamed Miss Rose by saying this was no way to treat the widow of a soldier who’d died for his country. Hannah knew she was only staying at the apartment on sufferance, widow or not, and as a result was hyperconscious of any noise the babies made.
“I’m taking care of organizing the fair this year and the picnic basket auction,” Hannah said. “I can help you if you want to donate a basket or if you want a booth at the fair. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about the Miss Jasper Gulch contest and neither can Mayor Shaw.”
Lilibeth pursed her lips, winding a strand of hair around her finger as she contemplated this information. “So you can’t get hold of the minutes of the meetings or stuff and let me see them? I need to find out if this was a setup or not.”
Why was she so intent on digging so deeply into this?
A movement from Brody distracted Hannah from Lilibeth’s questions. He was glancing at his watch, as if checking the time. Then he looked over at her, angled her a quick smile and raised his eyebrows toward Lilibeth, as if he was sympathizing with Hannah having to deal with the young lady’s self-indulgent antics.
“The contest was run separately from town business.” Hannah kept her smile intact as she turned her attention back to Lilibeth. “And even if the council was involved, I wouldn’t be at liberty to give you the minutes of the meetings.”
As Hannah spoke, Robin Frazier entered the foyer from the office she and Olivia Franklin worked in. She clutched a sheaf of papers and had a pencil behind one ear holding her blond hair back from her face. Probably seeking more information for the genealogy study she had come to Jasper Gulch for. She and Olivia had been working together on the history of the town as part of her studies.
“Are you going to donate a basket for the auction?” Hannah asked Lilibeth, trying to distract the girl and hurry her on.
Lilibeth gave Hannah a confused look as if not certain of this sudden switch in the conversation. “I’m not sure I could organize a basket. What would I put in it?”
“Food. Snacks. Treats. Sandwiches. Be creative,” Hannah said, handing her a paper. “Here’s a submission form to fill out. We’re doing something different this year. Instead of just food baskets, we are asking for some people to consider making a themed basket instead.”
“Themed basket?”
“Yes. You could make a basket of books. A basket of bath products. Snack foods. Baby stuff. The form will give you some ideas. You can choose which one you prefer.” While the young woman puzzled over the paper, Hannah turned her attention to Brody.
“Can I help you, Mr. Harcourt?”
Brody Harcourt gave her an affronted look as he came to the counter. “Whoa, what’s with the mister? I’m twenty-nine. That’s only four years older than you.”
In a town the size of Jasper Gulch, anyone who was four years older than you in high school seemed to stay in that exalted position until you got to know them. And Brody moved in different circles than she did, so she never got to know him well.
“Sorry. Just trying to be respectful of the age difference.” Hannah didn’t know where that little quip came from, but the twinkle in Brody’s eye and the way his mouth curved upward in a half smile created a curious uptick in her heartbeat. He really was quite attractive.
And
