I roll my eyes, pretending not to care. But secretly, it feels nice. It feels like maybe I’m doing something good. I watch as she hands the globe off to her secretary who places it on a table with other donations.
“Have you received your bidding number?” the Mayor asks.
“No, I just arrived.”
“Well, here. I happen to have extra paddles and I’ll put you down as number 32.”
She hands me the paddle and I’m not sure I want to bid on anything.Money is tight for me right now. A free paddle I can’t afford to use.
“Go take a seat,” Janice says, gesturing toward the rows of folding chairs set up in front of the stage. “We’re starting in a few minutes.”
“Right,” I say. “Sitting. Watching. Clapping politely. Zero bidding.”
Ruby hooks her arm through mine. “Come on, my little rule-follower.”
We walk toward the chairs, weaving through clusters of people greeting neighbors and gossiping. Ruby chooses seats in the second row — close enough for drama, far enough to avoid being dragged onstage if Janice gets bold.
I settle into my folding chair, noticing how festive everything is. The stage in front of us is decorated with wreaths and twinkling lights, and a small podium is set at the center.
Beside me, Ruby is vibrating. Like, actually vibrating. “I love this. I LOVE this. The energy is immaculate.”
“You say that like this isn’t mildly terrifying,” I mutter.
“Oh, it is,” she says. “But that’s half the fun.”
Before I can respond, the crowd quiets as Janice steps onto the stage. She taps the microphone, which squeals loud enough to make a toddler cry somewhere in the back.
“Welcome, everyone!” she beams. “To our annual One Magical Match auction, in support of the Cady Springs Food Bank!”
Cheers and applause ripple through the crowd.
Janice continues, “Tonight, you’ll have the chance to bid on wonderful items donated by local businesses, as well as a very special lineup of eligible bachelors.”
Women around us titter excitedly. Ruby mutters, “Showtime.”
I remind myself:no bidding on dates with men. Not even one.I clasp my hands firmly in my lap to prevent any rogue instinct from betraying me.
Janice starts with small items: gift baskets, a massage certificate, a handmade quilt. People laugh and bid, with final bids going for good donation amounts. There is a tense bidding war over the snow globe with it reaching a final bid price three times what I would have charged.
Then she moves on to the bigger items. A snowmobile tour. Dinner for two at Timberline Grill. A weekend cabin stay donated by the last bachelor who chickened out and left town early.
Ruby bids on a box of artisanal chocolates. Loses. Glares at the winner. I elbow her gently.
The event is fun. Actually fun. This surprises me more than it should. Then Janice claps her hands once, loudly. “And now ladies and gentlemen. It’s time for our male lineup!”
Ruby and half the crowd erupt into applause and cheers. I attempt a polite smile and hope no one can hear my heartbeat.
A ski instructor goes first. He swings onto the stage with a grin and a wink, flexing his biceps. Women giggle. One woman whistles loud enough to startle a passing dog.
The bidding climbs. A woman in the front wins him for $285 and a high-five. Good for her.
A firefighter comes next. Then the farrier Ruby mentioned last night. The audience is loving it. I relax a little. This isn’t so bad. It’s all for charity. It’s all harmless.
Ruby leans toward me. “Okay, Harper,” she murmurs. “Deep breath. The main event is coming.”
“I am taking many breaths,” I whisper.
Janice’s voice booms. “And for our final bachelor of the evening — a special Holiday Bride Experience package. We have someone who rarely comes into town. A man of the mountains. Strong. Capable. A mystery even to those who think they know him.”
