An hour after Van got back to her table, the Miss Bronco competition came to an end and the voting began.
Volunteers passed out the ballots, along with short pencils for anyone who needed one. Van voted for Charity and felt sure that just about everyone else in the park had, too. Jameson’s sister stood out among the ten pretty young contestants, most of whom, as happened every year, were daughters of the influential families in town. Charity had that special something every beauty queen required. Not only was she gorgeous, she had a megawatt smile and a good head on her shoulders, and she came across as kind and thoughtful, too.
The volunteers moved through the crowd again, gathering the ballots and then disappearing into a tent set up specially for the purpose of tallying the votes.
As they waited for the results, Van got out the paper plates and plastic forks she’d bought on her way back to the table. Carefully, she took her pie from the pink box and proudly held it up for everyone to admire. “Who wants cherry pie? Baked by one of the Dalton boys and it is amazing.”
Evan wanted a slice, and Callie had one, too.
Daphne, a strict vegetarian, voiced her suspicion that the Dalton boy who’d baked that pie had used lard rather than vegetable shortening. “And lard is made from animal fat. I guess I’ll have to pass,” she concluded regretfully.
Van put on a sad face. “I feel so bad for you.” And then she grinned. “But hey. More for me.” Both she and Daphne laughed.
Surprisingly, Van’s students all claimed they weren’t hungry. She found that a bit odd. Her students werealwayshungry.
And yet, the girls turned down the amazing pie and huddled together on the blanket, whispering to each other. Vanessa wondered vaguely what they might be up to. They giggled and nudged each other and whispered some more.
Whatever secrets they kept snickering over, they seemed to be having a terrific time. Well, more power to them, Vanessa thought as she cut an extra-large, mouthwatering slice for herself. Grabbing a plastic fork, she swung her legs to the other side of the bench.
With her back to the table, she could see the stage better, even if that position made it all too easy to let her gaze stray toward the John family table across the way. Uh-uh. Not going to happen. She kept her eyes trained on the stage.
The volunteers emerged from the tent. One carried an envelope up to the stage and passed it to Earl Tillson, who passed it to the mayor as another volunteer wheeled out a stand bearing two crowns on blue velvet pillows, one larger and more ornate than the other.
Earl called all ten contestants out from behind the curtain at the back of the stage. Last year’s winner, an Abernathy cousin, stood at the mayor’s side holding an enormous bouquet of red roses. The contestants lined up in their evening gowns wearing big smiles, their heads high and their shoulders back.
The mayor announced that Hermione Sanchez had taken fifth place. Her smile all the wider, Hermione stepped forward. To enthusiastic applause, last year’s Miss Bronco handed her a single rose as Earl helped her into her green satin fifth-place sash. Fourth place went to one of the Taylors and third to another Abernathy. Van couldn’t help thinking that the new rules hadn’t changed much of anything, after all. Girls from Bronco’s prominent families seemed to be winning, same as before.
However, she reminded herself, change didn’t happen overnight. She remembered Lurline DuBois and grinned. Next year, the rules her Young Adventurers had pushed for might inspire a whole new group of girls and women to compete.
The mayor announced, “And now we come to the first runner-up. Second only to Miss Bronco herself, the first runner-up is ever at the ready to assist Miss Bronco whenever she’s called to help—and even to step in for Miss Bronco should scheduling conflicts occur. This year, our first runner-up is once again Miss Charity John!”
A slight silence elapsed before everyone started clapping. In that silence, Van felt sure she hadn’t heard right. None of the others had compared to Charity. Of course she should have taken the crown.
But no. Van stared in disbelief as Charity, her beautiful smile a little bit wobbly, stepped forward to accept her single rose, the runner-up sash and the smaller of the two crowns.
“What’s going on?” whispered a woman at the next table.
“Not a clue,” replied another as murmurs of confusion and disapproval rose from the crowd.
Clearly, most everyone thought that Charity should have the big crown.
With a heavy sigh, Van forked up a giant bite of delicious pie. Sometimes the right person lost, but at least there was pie to ease the pain of life’s disappointments.
She stuck that hunk of sweet, tart, saucy cherries and perfect, flaky crust into her mouth just as the mayor announced, “And this year’s Miss Bronco, on a first-time ever write-in triumph, is Miss Vanessa Cruise!”
A gasp went up from half the spectators. Van choked on her pie so hard she sprayed cherries and crust all over her ripped jeans and soft, well-worn T-shirt.
This could not be happening.
Oh, but it was. “Get on up here, Vanessa!” shouted the mayor. “Join us on the stage and claim your crown!”
Chapter Three
As Van brushed bits of crust and cherry filling off her jeans, her Young Adventurer girls jumped up to surround her. Like a flock of birds at a feeding station, they all twittered at once as they clapped and high-fived each other.
Cleo Davidson, wearing a wide, proud smile, grabbed Van’s hand and pulled her upright. “Come on! You need to get up there. They’re waiting for you.”
“Yes!” crowed eleven-year-old Emma Bledsoe. “We did it! We got you written in. You won, Miss Cruise. You will be the best Miss Bronco ever!” She and Cleo high-fived each other yet again.
