He watched Summer’s expression and held his laughter. The look of panic in her eyes told him exactly what she thought of the idea. He should join the two sisters just to antagonize Summer, but after considering the idea, he decided not to take Rosie up on her invitation.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m scheduled to help Cal over at the gunnysack races in a few minutes.”
Rosie smiled wide. “Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun. What do you say, Summer?” She elbowed her sister’s arm. “Should we go support our favorite men?”
Summer studied her shoes and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Yes. That would be all right.”
“Great.” Rosie clapped. “Jesse, we’ll see you over there in a little while.”
“I’ll be countin’ the minutes.” He chuckled as the women walked away, loving the sight of Summer's ramrod-straight back and the gentle sway of her skirt. Only a few steps away, Summer looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes twinkled... or was it just the way the sun’s rays glinted off her hazel orbs? Her face flamed before she looked back on the walkway ahead of her. When he felt himself smiling like a kid in a candy store, he quickly sobered. Why was he so giddy? The confound woman didn’t want him. She adamantly voiced her feelings on the subject last night.
But it wasn’t her fault. He continued in the farce of being in love with Rosie. He wasn’t. Sure, he was at one time, but neither of them acted the same as they used to. He needed to break things off with Rosie for both of their sakes. He was sure she would agree that their paths had taken different directions.
Hanging his head, he sauntered to the field where the gunnysack race had been set up. Cal’s voice boomed through the streets, inviting everyone to participate. Jesse handed out the sacks and lined up the runners. Cal gave a loud whistle, starting the race.
Putting Summer’s attitude temporarily out of his thoughts, Jesse found himself laughing with the others. Time quickly slipped by, and before he knew it, Summer and Rosie stood in front of him, ready to receive their gunnysacks. He smiled politely and handed Summer a sack, then gave one to Rosie. It surprised him to see Rosie like this, so full of spirit and having fun. It’d been too long since she’d been this cheerful.
At Cal’s whistle, the racers geared onward, contestants pushing themselves to their very limits. Laughter throughout the small crowd grew as people began falling to the ground, but not Summer. Of course, the little spitfire always tried to beat everyone. The race ended when Summer crossed the finish line first. Her flushed face and tousled hair made his chest ache with that familiar feeling. He cursed fate for choosing Summer for the woman who could awaken his emotions now that Rosie couldn’t live up to the task.
Summer joined the next race and succeeded in winning again. When she paid for the following race, he decided she needed a lesson in humility. He grabbed a gunnysack and stood in line beside her. When her eyes met him, he gave her one of his self-assured grins, silently communicating his intention. She must have read his expression perfectly because she lifted her chin as if to accept the challenge.
He tried to remember that he was upset with her but watching her only made him feel giddy.
“On your mark,” Cal began loudly. “Get set. Go!”
Jesse put his full effort into the race, staying right next to Summer. Her determined glances let him know that she would not give up, but then again, neither would he.
Neck and neck, he jumped beside her, making his way to the finish line, enough ahead that it looked as if he’d win the game. A mere foot before reaching the finish line, a nagging thought entered his mind. Their conversation from last night at the cabin hit him full force, her voice echoing loudly that she could neverbeathim.
A pain sliced through his chest, and he knew he couldn’t beat her now. He had to forfeit the game.
Faking a fall, he tumbled to the ground just inches away from the finish line. When his opponent crossed first, the crowd cheered. He looked up and saw triumph on Summer’s face, and his heart melted. He’d made the right decision when he noticed her happy expression.
He climbed out of the sack, then stood and brushed the dirt off his jeans. With the game over, the crowd drifted away, and he took the opportunity to go to her. She held a different look in her eyes when she faced him this time. Dare he hope she felt different?
Jesse smiled and stretched forth his right hand. “Congratulations, Summer.”
Her humble smile softened when she placed her hand in his. “Thank you.”
He didn’t know if she thanked him for handing over the race or for his kind praise, but suddenly it didn’t matter. Her expression was enough. His hand warmed against her skin.
She withdrew, and with a light heart, he watched her walk away. For the first time he could remember, he didn’t feel upset over her competitiveness because now he understood why she had this drive to win.
The loud bell from the middle of town captured his attention. The afternoon event would be starting in a few minutes. In the past years, Jesse hadn’t been excited about the picnic, but today he couldn’t wait.
Side by side, Jesse and Cal meandered to the grandstand, then stood by as the single adults gathered around for the auction. The advertised purpose for this year’s picnic was to help raise funds for the new church, but everybody knew the real reason was to match young couples together.
Jesse studied the eager young women who’d baked and decorated their lovely baskets all morning, hoping to snatch a young man who would make the highest bid for their lunch. Twenty-five baskets were displayed for auction, and the same amount of giggling females stood sneaking peeks at the men who clustered together on the opposite side.
Out of all the young ladies, Jesse’s attention was held to one particular female. Summer couldn’t help but outshine the other women. Her hair had fallen out of her tidy bun and was pulled back with a peach-colored ribbon. She was breathtaking.
This was Summer’s first year entering the picnic, but she didn’t seem as eager as the others, which surprised him since Adam Fairbanks was in attendance and would most likely bid on Summer’s basket.
It was usually easy to tell what basket belonged to what young woman. When the auctioneer picked a basket, the owner would blush profoundly.
The auction started out just as he thought, and so far, Summer’s basket hadn’t been picked yet. Neither had Rosie’s.
The auctioneer picked up another basket. “Who’ll bid for this lovely basket? Do I hear ten cents?”
