Chapter 17

The farmer’s market took over Middletown’s square every Saturday morning. Like most people in town, Grace and Steve did their weekly grocery shopping there. It was also the perfect excuse to socialize and catch up on the latest gossip.

The air was thick with the heady scent of ripe fruit and fresh-baked bread. Amber jars of honey caught the morning light, casting shimmering prisms onto the pavement. Tiny pumpkins with painted faces in various expressions dotted nearly every table. Pyramids of yellow corn, squash, and zucchini filled an entire booth, pressed up against a rolling refrigerated unit displaying fresh meat and large blocks of orange cheese behind glass.

Steve casually glanced around, looking for Diana. She wasn’t there.

Not that he cared. She probably didn’t want anything to do with him anyway. Still, she was on his mind this morning—thanks to Grace, who had spent the entire walk to the square teasing him mercilessly.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Grace asked.

“Huh?”

“Diana. You’re a goner for her.”

Steve pulled his wallet from his back pocket and paid for the produce Grace had picked out at Farmer Stamford’s booth.

“That’s all we need. I’ll chat with the girls,” Grace said with a grin as she wandered off.

Across the grassy square, near the small rose garden, Principal Livingston waved from a park bench, signaling Steve to join him. That was the downside of small-town life—he could never fully escape his boss. Good thing he actually liked the man.

Principal Livingston held a giant chocolate-chip ice cream cone and greeted Steve with a friendly smile. “Enjoying your first school-year weekend?”

“Planning to,” Steve replied, setting the heavy canvas bag beside the bench.

“Did you need something, sir?”

“I know it’s the weekend,” Livingston said, “but I wanted to remind you about the End of Summer Dance. I should’ve mentioned it Friday, but it slipped my mind.”

Steve’s gut tightened. “What about it?”

Of all Middletown’s many annual events, the End of Summer Dance had been Peggy’s favorite. It always involved a desperate search for adult chaperones—likely because they were also expected to serve as square-dance instructors. Steve had skipped the dance the last two years, usually by driving out of town.

“I checked the file,” Livingston continued, “and according to the rotation schedule, the science department is up this year. Since you’re the department chair, I need you at the event—and I need you to recruit at least three more teachers to help.”

Steve clenched his jaw. “I can’t.”

The principal nodded, clearly anticipating the reaction. “I’m sorry, Steve, but this one’s not optional. Special events are part of your responsibilities per the contract you signed when you accepted the chair position last year. I assumed you were aware.”

“Apparently, I didn’t read all the fine print.”

“If you check, it’s there.” Livingston’s tone was firm but not unkind. “You’ll also need to lead the other volunteers as they brush up on square-dancing steps—and you’ll have to bring a partner. That way, you can demonstrate for the students.”

“You’re ordering me to bring a date?”

“Not ordering,” the principal said with a mischievous smile. “Just reminding you to fulfill your duties.”

“Fine,” Steve muttered.

He grabbed the produce bag and stalked off in search of Grace. The buzz of the market suddenly grated on his nerves. The charm of crowds, the scent of fresh bread—it had all lost its appeal.

What he needed at that moment was some space.

And most of all, a believable excuse not to go to that dance.

Laura looped one arm through Diana’s, holding her daughter Lily’s hand with the other. “Have I told you how glad I am that you’re living at the inn?”

“Only about five or six times.” Diana patted Laura’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk toward the center of town.

“Usually, my husband Percy comes to the market with me, but since he’s out of town, it’s nice to have company.”

Laura had already informed Diana that showing up at the farmers’ market was essential if she ever hoped to be accepted as part of the community. “Besides, you can check out the male population.”

“I’m not looking for a man,” Diana said, keeping her voice low as she waved to a few passing students.