Page 17 of The Cowboy's Surprise Return

“You and Myles put on a fair, right?” He blew on his coffee, then took a tentative sip. Perfect temperature.

Karen brightened at his brother’s name. She had it bad. It made Cole a bit envious. It also made him think of Jackie.

Then again, he’d spotted a shirt the same color as Jackie’s eyes in the window of Jenny’s shop, Blue Tumbleweed, and thought of her then, too.

“We raised a lot, but not quite enough to keep the library open for the full year.” Karen looked down at her clipboard, and Cole got the feeling she wasn’t planning on giving him the full story when it came to this auction.

He sipped his coffee and waited. He could make up an excuse and go, but now he was curious. Did she need him to help rope Myles into something?

“So this is a matchmaking night?” Mrs. Fisher asked, sliding a few packets of sugar to Daisy-Mae as she went past.

Cole caught Karen flashing Daisy-Mae a panicked look.

He was pretty sure that was his cue to leave.

He pushed back as though about to stand. “I’m not open for matchmaking at the moment, thanks. And I’m pretty sure none of my brothers are, either.” He plucked his hat off the counter and adjusted it over his brow. “Sorry.”

Before he could stand, Karen clamped a hand over his wrist. Her grip was firm.“It’s not like that. It’s a social event and an odd-job auction.”

“It’s called the Sweetheart Creek Bachelor Auction,” Daisy-Mae proclaimed.

“No,” Karen said firmly. “It’s the Valentine’s Day Odd Job Auction.”

“I still prefer my name,” Daisy-Mae said, stirring her coffee, her spoon clinking.

“So, what is it?” Cole asked, settling back into his spot.

“People share their skills and interests when they sign up, as well as the odd job they need help with. We do some matching in the background before the event. During Friday’s auction, you only get to bid—”

“Blindly!” Daisy-Mae interjected.

“—on people who fall into the category we matched you with. We do that behind the scenes, based on your questionnaire answers. So then at the auction on the thirteenth you find someone to help you with your odd job on Valentine’s Day. You spend the day together working on them, have lunch, and then join the group for supper.”

That didn’t sound like anything he’d ever heard of.

“Did y’all come up with this?”

Karen nodded.

“But its success hinges on having enough people,” Daisy-Mae said.

“So on auction day—”

“What’s happening on auction day?” a white-haired man asked from the end of the counter. It was Cole’s great-uncle Henry Wylder, scowling at them. “Is that brother of yours buying more no-good horses just so he can store them over at Carly Clarke’s and make doe eyes at her?”

“We’re going to auction you off in a matchmaking game,” Karen stated primly, her pen poised over the clipboard. “Can I put you down as a yes?”

Cole swallowed a chuckle as the man jerked as though someone had jabbed his back end with a live cattle prod. Henry’s scowl deepened, and he turned his shoulder, even though it meant facing the wall to his left.

Karen, looking pleased, glanced back at Cole. “As I was saying, we match people up and give them a number based on a category. So, say you were interested in helping with a carpentry project, we would match you with a certain number for that. Then whoever is looking for help with carpentry bids on it.”

“That’s the matchmaking part,” Daisy-Mae said. “But we hide the person they’re bidding on behind a curtain.”

“We’d read your description, to help them bid on the right person in their category of interest.”

“You don’t know who you’ve won until the big reveal at the end.” Daisy-May made a trumpeting sound and waved her hands as though displaying a prize.

“Sounds like human trafficking,” Henry grumbled. “And prostitution.”

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