Chapter one
Riley
I guess I should’ve planned on it taking more time to get ready this morning, considering the preposterous outfit I have on and how long it took me to squeeze into these tights. I’m late, but I found a great parking spot on the street, so I shouldn’t complain.
At least it isn’t snowing. Western Montana got five inches of snow last night, but here in West Palomino, it’s beautiful. My cozy home town is surrounded by snow capped mountains in the far distance, but we’re tucked in our own micro climate with bright blue skies and highs pushing into the seventies. Rare for this time of year.
I soak in the charming surroundings, strolling by the stores with their window boxes bursting with color, and inhale deeply, savoring the fresh air.
I’m home.
And doing my part to support the community, I remind myself while listening to the sound of scratchy crinoline rubbing againstmy thighs with every step. I turn left and walk past the Sheriff’s department when my best friend’s voice snaps me out of my daydream.
“Took you long enough!” Allison waves me over to her before she erupts in laughter.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be my support system today. Laughing at me isn’t the way to do it,” I tease, giving her a hug.
Allison pulls back and sheepishly covers her mouth with her hand as she scans my costume in all its glory close up. “Sorry.” She shrugs. “You really don’t look that bad.”
I quirk my brows. “Thatbad?” Geez, Louise. This is shaping up to be a long day.
“Seriously. I’ve seen worse,” Allison explains, trying to make me feel better. “Can’t tell you exactly where or when, but I know I have definitely seen costumes even more awful than yours.”
“That’s it.” I raise my palms in defeat. “I give up. I think I’m coming down with a sudden cold or maybe a sprained ankle? What’s my escape plan?”
“I can’t believe how you managed to get roped into this. You haven’t been in town for more than two weeks. How did Loretta Parker find out you were here?”
“I ran into her picking up barbeque beef at Slo Mo. She’d just received a call about some urgent family business and has to be in Texas today.”
“And we all know there is no way anyone can refuse Miss Loretta.”
I shake my head in agreement. “I didn’t stand a chance. Not after the Parker’s built the new hospital wing and the Wild Cat Ridge development.”
Allison peers off and points to the lush hills in the distance, one of my favorite spots to see the wildflowers in spring.
“In a month those hills will be so colorful.”
“I’m talking about the population,” Allison clarifies. “There must be two hundred homes up there. But are there enough people to support a parade of this size?”
We both scan a float filled with little leaguers slowly cruise by. “If Loretta Parker says there are enough people to watch the parade, there are.”
“And that kind of positive attitude got you the top spot as mascot in this fine spectacle, my friend.”
I stop myself from saying something snarky. Who am I to complain? I’ve been commuting from Missoula, driving my mom to her appointments, visiting and managing full-time help, hoping to relocate to West Palomino for months. But I needed a job first. When the listing came up for West Palomino’s community gardener, I applied immediately, got lucky and started working last week. I’m counting my blessings.
“How’s your mom today?” Allison asks, reading my mind.
“She’s actually great except for when she forgets to take her medication, but I’m here now to remind her.” I check my phone for the time. “The Jacksons are probably at the house now, picking her up for the parade.”
I pull at my sticky bright yellow and green striped tights, attempting to get some air between the nylon and my thighs. The horizontal stripes are the very worst option possible, not flattering at all with my curvy legs, and the green dress Loretta’s minions insisted I wear, is almost as bad. It’s made of the stiffest, scratchiest polyester and making me break out in a rash.
I blow out a breath and park my hands on my shiny green hips as another truck cruises into the lot. Sheriff Jackson is directing traffic and I wave to him. He sends me a perplexed look as his eyes scan over me down to my pointed sized 14 green felt shoes. Oh boy. He has no idea who I am.
I’m usually the first to lend a hand to anyone in need, but I’m regretting it this time. Just because my name is Riley O’Donnell,and St. Patrick’s Day happens to be my birthday, doesn’t mean I want to crawl up on some nasty flatbed dressed as a leprechaun. My stomach is queasy, like it’s been attacked by a million obese butterflies.
“I’m going to chicken out.” I turn to Allison, who gives me zero reaction. “Did you hear me?” I wipe the beads of sweat off my forehead. The polyester I’m wearing is a type of man-made fabric-hell that doesn’t breathe.
“I heard you.” Allison stares me down, and so did coach Buck, and everyone within a mile. “It’s too late for you to bail now.” Her expression softens. “What can I do to help?”
