Chapter 21 #3
The day went much smoother than Stella had imagined.
By afternoon, there had only been a few minor issues that were easy to fix.
Although she remained on alert for problems, the festivalgoers and vendors sailed through the afternoon on a sea of enjoyment.
She’d even seen Darcy and Crusoe a few times.
To her surprise, Darcy had been playing a game of croquet with a trio of ladies who looked enraptured by his attention.
Crusoe had been engaged in a lawn game of giant Jenga and appeared to be winning.
Later in the day Stella stopped by the donation tent for the charity her dad had started. The sight of all the contributions
amazed her. “There’s so much,” she said.
Esther, one of the volunteers, agreed. “Twice as much as last year. You should have enough to create at least fifty care packages.”
Stella walked through the boxes of goods given by festivalgoers. “More than that,” she said. Her dad would have been thrilled
by all the kindness shown to a cause he loved. “Thank you for all your help today.”
“My pleasure,” Esther said. “And we’ll make sure this is all sorted for you. Stack it in the same library room as last year?”
“Yes, thank you.”
After leaving the donation booth, Stella saw Darcy coming out of a photo booth with a woman dressed in Regency attire. They
were both laughing while looking at the black-and-white photos. Crusoe had won an oversize teddy bear at a game of ring the
bottle, and in the late afternoon when she saw them returning into the library with their hands full of food, she was thankful
she’d broken the rules for them.
She’d caught sight of Jack a few times, but each time he’d been deeply engaged in conversation, and similarly to how she felt
about giving Darcy and Crusoe their freedom, she experienced a squeeze of gratefulness for not monopolizing Jack’s last days
in Blue Sky Valley.
The Ink Blots took the stage at 7:30 p.m., and Jack found Stella helping a young girl tie off a yellow water balloon. As he
approached, Stella shielded her eyes from the setting sun. The girl ran off with her balloon, calling out to someone who should
“run for their life.”
“They’re playing our song,” Jack said, holding out his hand for Stella.
She wiped her wet hands on her shorts. “We have a song?”
“If I’m honest, any song that will get you to dance with me can be our song.”
She hesitated before taking his hand. “I meant it when I said I don’t know how to dance.”
“I plan on taking it slow.”
Jack led her to the dance floor, which was crowded with couples swaying to a 1940s ballad. He wrapped one arm around her waist
and held up his other hand so she could slide her fingers through his. He swayed their bodies back and forth in rhythm, and
she exhaled, willing herself to relax. By the time the second song started, Stella was more at ease and rested her head on
his shoulder.
She had skipped every dance her middle school and high school had hosted to avoid embarrassing herself by being clumsy while
on display. She also hadn’t wanted to suffer the sting of no one asking her to a dance, since she’d adamantly sworn to anyone
within earshot that she had no interest in going. But she’d been curious and more than once wished some boy would have asked
her anyway. Now she understood what she’d been missing.
“I like this,” she said, closing her eyes and resting her head on his chest.
“I love this,” he said.
When the next song started with a quick tempo, Stella tugged Jack off the dance floor. “I don’t think I’m ready for the jitterbug
or swing dancing.”
He pulled her against him. “I can teach you.”
Stella laughed. “Not right now. I’m just getting used to the idea that I can dance to the slow ones. Thank you for bringing
me out here. I’m glad my first dance was with you. It was really nice.”
Jack pressed his cheek against her hair. “‘Really nice’ is an understatement. I could dance with you until the stars come out and the sun rises and then—”
She laughed again and playfully pushed him away. “Are you sweet-talking me? Trying to woo me?”
Mischief glinted in his eyes. “Is it working?”
Stella pressed her hands against his chest. “Jack, I need to be honest with you.”
His playful expression disappeared. “Let’s hear it.”
“Everything you do works for me.”
He covered her hands with his. “I know just what you mean.”
By 8:30 p.m. the festival started winding down, and the crowd thinned as people found their way to their cars. Vendors packed
up, and the food trucks sold the last of their goods to late-night eaters. Everyone would be gone in less than two hours,
so Stella headed inside the library to make sure vendors had help packing up if they needed it. More than half of the indoor
booths had already been dismantled, and volunteers helped vendors carry boxes and supplies out to their vehicles.
Stella took the stairs up to the second floor and looked around. It was empty except for a scattering of left-behind papers
and to-go cups. She gathered the trash and carried it to a trash bin. When she reached across a table to scoop up a few stray
pencils, someone walked up behind her.
Stella glanced over her shoulder with a smile, assuming it was Jack, but her stomach plummeted. Wade Haynes—handsome and confident—stood
there grinning at her.