“But nothing extreme. Just to help me become more polished. Tips, really.” Charlie’s face grew hot. “Simple. Classy.”
“Of course.” Ellie sounded much too excited. “So, basically, you’ll help Arran with a reputation and heart makeover, of sorts, while Arran and I assist you in a makeover at the superficial level.”
Wait.Arran?
“It’s a perfect exchange,” Ellie continued. “When I’m gone for business, he’ll be here to help you. And you can provide some added motivation for Arran’s reformation.”
Charlie’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”
“He is determined to prove to you that a pint and pub are not the sum of who he is.”
Charlie’s grin twitched again, the entire situation almost unbelievable. A mutual makeover, of sorts, between a prince and a carpenter?
Crazy stuff. Sounded like a reality TV show idea.
“So, you’ll agree to it?”
“You have a deal.” The smile in Ellie’s voice was undeniable.
“Perfect, because I could really use some public speaking help soon. My first presentation is at the end of the month, at a countywide in-service for all the faculty of the schools. I’m trying to encourage community involvement in The Wish. Plus, teachers and social workers can offer more names of folks we can serve.”
“I’ll email you a list of ideas. Some staples for your wardrobe andfashion tips. And we could meet next week, perhaps, to talk about dancing and presentation?”
Charlie’s stomach vaulted at the idea of revisiting the long-forgotten waters of... girliness. “Sounds great.”
They hung up, and Charlie leaned back in her chair.
Maybe she’d never learned how to be a “lady” since she was raised by a mountain-man single dad and inclined to hang out with “the boys.” But deep inside she wondered if her tomboyishness had something to do with the fact that if she put forth effort to look attractive or poised, and failed... then she was only proving Mama right.
That Charlie wasn’t enough.
And proving her mama right was the last thing she ever wanted to do.
Five
There’s a good chance Luke Edgewood enlisted in Operation: Reform Arran to instill torture.
Or at least that’s what Arran’s muscles had been screaming each morning he woke to begin yet another workday. Though the hard work and comradery of his brother-in-law provided a twin sense of pride and... surprising friendship. Plus, he’d enjoyed observing Luke and Ellie together in the privacy of their home, their mutual affection and complementary relationship plain for all to see. They teased each other, shared the work, and enjoyed simply spending time together, with Luke supporting Ellie’s interior design skills and diplomatic responsibilities and Ellie encouraging Luke’s business.
A real team. A friendship. With all the added benefits of romance.
Arran drew in a deep breath. He’d always wanted a romance like that. Genuine, thoughtful, and lovely romantic friendship. A ridiculous thing to voice aloud, but tucked between his ears the thought settled over him with renewed welcome.
Angelica, with all her pretense and selfishness, could never have given him a home with such authenticity and joy. And that’s what he knew he wanted now, a home filled with the same connection and joy he saw with Luke and Ellie, the same he’d witnessed in his parents. A shame it took him so many mistakes and two years of heartache to sort it out.
The walk down Main Street in Ransom helped stretch out his muscles and introduced him to an even more storybook-like settingthan Mount Airy. A well-organized conglomeration of manicured buildings sat along a principal street lined with lampposts and a few trees—a lovely way to intermingle nature among brick and stone, with the blue-toned mountains on the horizon.
As Arran neared the city center, an assemblage of aromas, from buttery popcorn to nuts roasted with brown sugar and cinnamon, ushered him into the fray of voices and laughter and children’s giggles.
He checked his watch. The fair and carnival didn’t begin for another two hours, yet hundreds of people already weaved among the booths lining the street. With Luke’s directions in hand, Arran followed the pavement to an old brick church with a steeple towering into the blue sky. A green tented booth stretched along the front of the churchyard, myriad potted flowers taking up one side of the grass beside the tent, each tied with a ribbon.
Were those potted plants donated by a garden center for The Wish? Luke mentioned donations for the charity came all year long—hand crafts, small furniture items, quilts, and even flowers.
The power of a community coming together truly held its own magic.
He rounded the edge of the booth to find Charlotte behind a central table wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and a ball cap and sorting through a box.
“Are all those flowers donations?”
