Page 89 of His Tenth Dance

“Oh, it’s not the purple ribbon,” Jocelyn said. “We don’t need a group shot with my cake.”

“Well, I want all of us bymine,” Kristie said brightly. She waved dramatically at her apple crumble tart like a game show hostess, and her friends squealed in delight as they crowded around for a picture.

Only a few stalls down, in the very corner, sat Lennie’s pavlova. It had been placed on a higher shelf at eye level—and it hadtwofirst place ribbons.

“What does that mean?” Lennie asked, gaping. “Two ribbons?”

“Look,” Harper said, reading the card. “It means there were multiple judges who wanted to give this the purple ribbon. In the end, it wasn’t chosen as the overall winner, but the judges wanted to recognize its excellence for creativity, appearance, and taste.”

She turned wide-eyed to Lennie. “One judge even wrote, I’ve never had a pavlova this delicious. This should absolutely be the purple ribbon winner.”

Kristie gripped Lennie’s hands and bounced on her toes. “Youalmostwon it, Len.”

“Congratulations,” Jocelyn said, giving Lennie a side squeeze. “What are you guys doing after this? Do you have a lunch date we can crash?”

Kristie looked to Mission, who chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, but we’re going to that sushi place,” he said.

“Ew.” Harper wrinkled her nose. “Are youserious?”

“I’m dead serious,” Mission said. “I like sushi.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t eat it in a landlocked state,” Harper muttered, turning down the aisle and passing the bench where Briar still sat with Tarr.

Tension radiated from both of them. Tarr sat with his arms folded, making his biceps and shoulders look even bigger. He stared past Kristie while Briar stared in the opposite direction. Kristie had no idea what their history was, but they didn’t exactly look like they were on good terms.

“Oh, mine is right here,” Harper said. “I barely made it into first.”

The dessert next to hers had a second place ribbon, but Harper’s had the white first place tag. She wanted pictures too, and the five of them wandered the rest of the building, commenting about the desserts and pastries in the competition.

Mission marveled at all the chocolate chip cookie entries at the end. “Who knew there were that many different ways to make cookies?” he said. “And how in the world do you decide which one tastes better?”

“Oh, you can tell,” Lennie said, very seriously.

“There are all kinds of different chocolates too,” Jocelyn said. “Semi-sweet, milk, bittersweet, white….”

“Some people put butterscotch chips in,” Kristie said.

“That’snotchocolate,” Jocelyn said as they reached the same doors they’d entered.

Kristie let her three friends walk ahead of her and Mission and took his hand, letting it swing gently between them.

“They don’t have to come to lunch with us,” she said softly as they exited the building.

“It’s fine, kitten,” he said. “I don’t mind sharing you. At least a little bit.” He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her temple. “But tonight,” he said. “You’re all mine.”

She grinned up at him and then scoffed. “Right. All yours—and your grandfather’s. Aren’t we going over to his place tonight?”

Mission grinned and reached up to press his cowboy hat firmly onto his head. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. You don’t mind sharing me with him, do you?”

“No,” Kristie said playfully. “As long as I get to have you alone for at least a few minutes today. We need to celebrate my white ribbon.”

“Mm, that’s a promise I can keep,” he said.

Jocelyn turned around and walked backward. “Hurry up, you guys. We don’t even know where the sushi place is.”

twenty-nine

Tucker Hammond paced in the big kitchen of the farmhouse where he’d grown up.

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