Cedar Creek Seasons by Eileen Key Read Free Book Online Page B

the Stagecoach Inn seemed to suddenly bloom brighter with a raspberry-colored rocking horse as backdrop.
    We look good together, Willow
. She wouldn’t regret this. No matter who won, they’d all gain from it—business
and
personal gain. He sauntered over to her. “Nice setup.”
    “Can’t imagine how it could be with only fifteen minutes warning.”
    “Wha—?” He looked at Star, who shrugged. “How did that”—he cleared his throat—“come about?”
    “My daughter seemed to think that when I said no I really meant yes and took it upon herself to enter me. Which reminds me … Sharon?” She waved at the woman setting up the voting table. “Do you happen to have my essay handy?”
    “Of course. I’ve made two hundred copies of each one.” She reached into a box and handed her a piece of paper.
    Willow arched an eyebrow as she read. “Tender Loving Chair Company—child-sized furniture made by tender loving hands. The perfect complement to the Shops at Cedar Creek Settlement.” She eyed Star with more than a little suspicion. “Statistics show that 56 percent of the visitors to Cedarburg are over sixty. We can assume that the vast majority of them are grandparents, and what grandmother could possibly resist a bright pink rocking chair or an exquisitely crafted rocking horse?” Willow tipped her head to one side. “You wrote this?”
    Star hesitated. Her eyes darted toward Wilson.
    Willow whirled. “
You
wrote this?”
    He took a step back. Her eyes looked exceptionally blue when they were open as wide as eyes can open. “It was a collaboration.”
    “Why?” The hurt on her face stabbed him. “You needed somebody easy to beat? Somebody who couldn’t hold a candle to ‘depictions of the charm and serenity of historic Cedarburg’ or ‘the covered bridge dusted with snow’ or the ‘nostalgic black-glass facade and lit marquis of the Rivoli …’” Her mouth opened. Her eyes closed.
    “You read my essay?” He infused his words with indignation, though he felt not a twinge of it. “Why? You needed to find my weak points? To plan your strategy for beating me? Was this all a ruse, pretending to not be interested when all this time—”
    “No! I didn’t read it on purpose. I decided not to enter because I—never mind.” Her face turned a delightful shade somewhere between dusty pink and ash rose.
    “Any chance we could call us even?”
    “Not until you explain why you entered me in this contest.”
    He held up his watch so she could look at it. “We need to let them lock up. If you insist on an explanation, I’m afraid it’ll have to be over dinner.”
    Her face darkened to a color even he couldn’t name. Not quite barn red, but close. “Well, I … thank you, but I have to get home for the boys and we need to finish decorating the bed for tomorrow—”
    “One thing at a time.” Star stood with a finger in the air. “You two go eat and when you’re done, you can both come and work on the bed.” She held out an upturned palm. “Just fork over the keys and I’ll take care of everything.”
    Willow sighed but fished her keys out of her purse and relinquished them. “I think you’ve taken care of enough for today, missy.”
    “Oh no.” Star glanced at Wilson. “I’ve only just begun.”
    Wilson winked at her. He wasn’t a winker, but it seemed the appropriate gesture for acknowledging an accomplice.

    Willow set her napkin on her plate. “And what about you? Kids are my excuse. Why is it you never married?”
    “I was close once. Years—” His phone rang. He glanced at it. “Sorry. Another starving artist. This’ll just take me a sec.” He smiled as he answered it. “Hey, Mike. Yep. Thanks for the tip. Begging for their wood scraps was awkward, but who needs pride, right? Hey, I’m in the middle of something, can I call you tomorrow? Okay. Thanks again.”
    She couldn’t make eye contact for a moment. The image of Wilson begging for wood froze her.
    He set the