“Oh.” That made more sense.
He returned to scanning the crowd, his smile replaced with singular determination.
Desperate to make conversation, she asked. “Have you had lunch yet?”
“Yeah. Ate something before I came here.”
That was disappointing, because now that she had breathed in the full effect of all the different hoedown foods, she was beyond starving. “How about a snack?”
Logan stopped walking and turned to her. “I really need to find Jade. Thanks for your help, but I think I can search faster on my own.”
“But... wait...”
He hurried off.
Kalista scowled. Now what? She guessed she could find Viv and hang with her. Hold up. What was that amazing smell?
Turning around, she saw a food stall with the words Funnel Cakes in bright red paint on the front. From the long line, she knew they must be good. Her stomach was roaring now. Forget avoiding carbs and sugar—she needed food.I need one of those cakes.
She quickly got in line behind a man who was smoothing down his bald spot. The sun warmed her skin as country music blared out of the speakers, along with an enthusiastic female voice who added an extra syllable to every word she spoke.
“Time to do-si-do, y’all,” she called out.
That must be the Pickle lady Tyler mentioned. Kalista craned her neck toward the dance floor. There were too many people crowding the perimeter for her to view the dancers, but she could see the band playing and the lady speaking into the microphone onstage. She looked to be in her seventies and was wearing a short red-and-white checked dress, the hem flaring out as she skipped back and forth in front of the band.
“That’s it,” she said, crooking her arm. “Next, you fellas are gonna swing that pardner. Not too fast, though. Junior Simpkins, I’m talking to you! Dora Mae ain’t no rag doll!”
The crowd laughed, and Kalista thought she heard a faint, “Sorry, Ms. Pickles!”
“Great hoedown, Mayor Pancake!”
The man in front of her waved at a couple passing by. “Glad you’re enjoyin’ it!”
The line inched forward at a slug’s pace. Kalista crossed her arms. At this rate she’d have her trust fund before she’d reach the booth.
A tall man in blue jean overalls and a ragged straw cowboy hat approached, a scowl on his face. He was the first person she’d seen so far who didn’t look blissfully happy, other than Logan.
“Hey, Mayor,” he said, his drawl even more pronounced than Ms. Pickles’. He stuck his thick thumb underneath one of his overall straps, a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. “I need to talk to you about that town hall last week. I ain’t happy with your decision to annex part of the country road.”
“Now, Butch.” The mayor continued to smile. “You know I don’t talk business at the hoedown. Make an appointment with Betsy and we’ll discuss whatever you want.” He shook the big man’s hand.
“All right, Pancake. I’ll do that.”
“It’s Panchak,” the mayor muttered, but he sounded more good-natured than upset. As the man walked away, Pancake glanced over his shoulder, then did a quick double take at Kalista. “Hello, young lady. Don’t believe I’ve seen you around these parts before.”
I’m in hee-haw hell.Why did everyone around here sound like they lived under a haystack?
“Is this your first visit to Clementine?”
“It is.”
“Welcome. I’m Mayor Panchak.” He held out his hand. “Glad you could come to our little ol’ hoedown.”
“Thanks,” she said, surprised at how nice he was being to her. In fact, every person she’d met so far had been nice on one level or another. Especially Tyler.Too nice, remember?
“The funnel cakes are always popular,” he said as the line moved forward again. “They’re the best...”
Kalista followed the mayor’s gaze as he seemed to forget he was talking to her, then saw him smooth his bald spot again.
