“Diane is tending to her mama after her surgery, remember?”
Hope withered to match the dust from Charlie’s hat. “Of course.” She drew in a breath, praying for courage.
Maybe she needed to do this.
This could be her chance to prove to everyone, including herself, that she could step beyond her fears and the mold she’d resigned herself to. That there was a brave woman living underneath her faded jeans and six-year-old work boots.
“I’m happy to do it,” she finally said.
Which wasn’t a lie. Completely. Charlie had assisted in the Christmas fundraiser for years. She knew the schedule, the people, and how it worked.
Unfortunately, her smile must not have registered the appropriate holiday cheer.
“You’ll have support from our usual volunteers.” Lori rushed ahead. “Besides, isn’t that prince coming to help?”
That prince?
Charlie’s smile tensed at the reminder of her cousin Luke’s brother-in-law assisting in their little mountain service project. A rebel prince, from what she’d heard. She quelled an eye roll. How couldhepossibly help?
“Doesn’t that sound like the strangest thing to say?” Lori laughed. “A prince coming to our rescue.”
A memory rushed to Charlie’s mind: her eight-year-old self in full princess costume, dancing around the living room while watching copious amounts of princess-themed movies. Real-life disappointments had certainly redefined those childhood dreams. Besides, the last thing she needed was to babysit a maverick monarch while navigating such a daunting leadership role.
“I don’t really expect him to help,” Charlie offered. “There’s a good chance working for Luke will be enough to keep him busy.”
“It’s a wonder he’s offered to come at all.” Lori chuckled. “A prince! Building houses! In our little town?”
It didn’t make sense to Charlie either.
After Lori shared a few more suggestions, Charlie gathered her bag, scooped up the fundraiser’s files, and took the stairs down to the street. The lamps lining Main Street attempted to compete with some of the few shops still open after 7:00 p.m. on a weekday.
Charlie’s gaze landed on the little steeple rising above the other buildings at the end of town, and she sent a prayer heavenward. Surely God would help her through this. Even if it involved a hairstylist and—she swallowed the lump in her throat—possibly wearing... heels.
The sound of laughter pulled Charlie’s attention next door to Murphy’s Brew, one of the most popular nighttime spots in Mount Airy. Light blazed from the bar’s windows, teasing passersby in for warmth, fellowship, and some of the best cheese pretzels on the planet.
She shook her head at the idea of Caine Murphy and the pride he took in his potent home brew, then made her way to her truck.
She’d just started the ignition when her phone buzzed to life.
Luke:Have you happened to see a prince in town?
Air burst from Charlie’s crooked lips as she reread the note.Interesting intro to a conversation.
Charlie:I gave up that pursuit in grade school. Why do you need a prince, anyway? Don’t you already have a princess living at your house?
Luke:My princess happens to have lost a brother. He was supposed to be here a couple hours ago.
Charlie’s bottom lip dropped, and she sent another look down quiet Main Street.How on earth could anybody get lost in Mount Airy, of all places?
Charlie:Clearly, my skills at locating princes are pretty rusty. Does he resemble your wife? Blond hair, blue eyes, practically perfect in every way?
Luke:No one looks as good as my wife.
Charlie’s grin stretched. Give the man a wife, and suddenly there’s an influx of romantic talk.
Charlie:So, I’m looking for a slightly less perfect, male version of your wife?
A photo popped up on the screen to reveal a man who resembled Captain America a little too much for Charlie’s peace of mind. Styled blond hair, pale blue eyes, perfect smile.
