Chapter One
Charlotte McCray considered herself a connoisseur of ballparks. She’d cheered at MLB games in Cleveland, San Francisco and St. Louis. The high school ballpark in Good Hope, Wisconsin, was a pebble in the shoe of those magnificent stadiums.
“I love seeing the guys in those cute uniforms.” Her friend Piper Ambrose shoved her hand into the nearly empty bag of nuts. “Who knew vintage could be sexy?”
Sexy was spot-on. Especially if they were talking about Adam Vogele, the hunky organic farmer with wavy black hair brushing his collar. His rangy, work-hardened body would look good in anything.
If it was up to her, Charlotte would have preferred seeing him in the tight britches of modern ballplayers. Or, better yet, in nothing at all. But, as this was vintage baseball played by vintage rules, you took what you got. Which was baggy uniforms that didn’t show off anyone’s body to full advantage. “More’s the pity.”
“Did you say something?” Piper jerked her attention, which had moved from the players to the crowd, back to Charlotte.
“I’m glad I came today.” She almost hadn’t, Charlotte remembered.
The cheeks of the boutique owner beside her were flushed with excitement. “We single Good Hope girls have to stick together.”
Charlotte wondered if she’d ever be one of the “Good Hope girls.” In general, groups weren’t her thing. Still, when she’d considered coming to the game alone, she’d realized sitting by herself in bleachers filled with groups of friends and families would be awkward. Not for her, but for those around her.
Good Hope, known for its welcoming spirit, was built on family and friendships.
Charlotte was savvy enough to know that promoting a new business venture in this town meant being seen as part of the fabric of this community. Besides, she liked Piper and enjoyed her company.
“Any idea who’ll be throwing out the first pitch?” From her short-lived time in Good Hope several years back, Charlotte remembered a local “celebrity” always had that honor.
“Tim Vandercoy.” Piper’s gaze scanned the crowd until she spotted the top real estate broker on the peninsula.
To Charlotte’s horror, Piper pulled her hand from the bag of nuts and pointed. “He’s right over there.”
Several people in nearby seats turned to stare. Keeping a smile on her lips, Charlotte resisted the strong urge to jerk Piper’s arm down.
“Do you know Tim?” Piper asked, oblivious to the looks.
“I’ve got him searching for a place for me.” Charlotte sipped her soda. “For now, the apartment over the bakery works. I want to be sure whatever I choose is right. I’m in no hurry.”
“This is my lucky day. It appears there’s space for me to squeeze in beside you.”
Charlotte froze at the sound of the theatrical voice. Turning slowly, she saw ninety-some-year-old Gladys Bertholf, tall and reed-thin, with jet-black hair that had a vibrant swath of silver from front to back, standing beside her.
There wasn’t room, not unless Charlotte wanted to be squeezed in tight, which she didn’t. She opened her mouth to respond, but Piper beat her to it.
“There’s always room for you.” The words had barely left Piper’s lips when she scooted over, leaving Charlotte no choice but to do the same.
Charlotte offered a polite smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
The way Gladys’s pale blue eyes fixed on her had red flags popping up.
The older woman, considered the matriarch of Good Hope, was also rumored to be a matchmaker constantly in search of her next victim. The fact that Gladys had deliberately seated herself beside two single females didn’t bode well.
Unless Gladys was looking to match Piper. In that case, Charlotte would totally support her efforts.
But Gladys’s unwavering gaze remained fixed on Charlotte. “You’re a blonde now.”
Charlotte touched her hair. “Do you like it?”
“Different. But I like different.” Gladys inclined her head. “I understand you’re back to stay.”
While Charlotte was sure Gladys knew nearly every detail of her return, the older woman obviously wanted firsthand confirmation. “I’m here to stay.”
Unless, she added silently, the new venture failed or the lure of the city grew too strong. Combining Golden Door with Marigold’s salon had been a strategic move and her best hope of generating the income she needed. “Marigold and I are now business partners. We’ll be opening Marigold’s Golden Door Salon and Day Spa this fall.”
Gladys inclined her head. “So what I’ve heard is correct. Marigold gets top billing.”
Charlotte chuckled, wishing she had a dollar for every time she’d heard that comment. “Golden Door Marigold’s Salon and Day Spa doesn’t have the right rhythm.”
An approving spark flared in the older woman’s eyes. “I like your spunk.”
“Throwing out the first pitch will be our own Tim Vandercoy.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker, and the people in the stands cheered.
Tim, a perfectly pressed man in his late fifties, stood and waved. He knew how to play the crowd. Before throwing out the first pitch, he held the ball high.
Everyone cheered some more.
Finally, blessedly, his arm came back, and he launched the ball.
Adam jogged forward, keeping his eye on the ball that came down far short of where he’d been waiting. As gloves weren’t worn in the 1860s, he caught the ball bare-handed.
Charlotte winced when the ball slammed into his hand.
If it stung, he didn’t show it. Adam waved to Tim and headed out to the mound.
Gladys leaned close, which didn’t take much effort since she was practically in Charlotte’s lap. “Adam is single and a real hottie.”
“If you like farmers.” The second the dismissive words left her lips, Charlotte wished she could pull them back.
But darn it, the older woman had the ability to see too much. An inexplicable heat had flared between Charlotte and Adam at their first meeting. When she’d been in Good Hope several years ago, they’d enjoyed one amazing night.
She’d realized her mistake the next morning. She was too high maintenance for him. He was too earthy for her.
Gladys’s brow arched. “You don’t like farmers?”
“I adore farmers,” Piper announced in a loud voice, leaning around Charlotte. “Especially sexy ones.”
Gladys smiled politely and pointed to the field. “I’d love to chat more, but the game is starting.”
Charlotte was happy to focus on the ballfield. Surprise registered as she realized she knew most of the players on the Good Hope team. Perhaps not personally, but she knew their names. She even knew who they were married to—or had been—the last time she’d been in Good Hope.
Her smile turned rueful when her gaze landed on Max Brody. She’d once made a play for the sandy-haired hunk. It had taken just one date for her to realize there was only one woman Max wanted to be with, and it wasn’t her. He and the former Primrose Bloom were married now, with a young daughter and her twin boys.
There was an abundance of men on the field to admire, most married, but a few singles. Despite her resolve, Charlotte’s gaze kept circling back to Adam.