24. Lottie

LOTTIE

T he next day—or early evening rather—it doesn’t take much digging through Agatha Reed’s social media profiles to discover she’s showcasing her homemade goodies at the Winter Festival up in Hollyhock.

Winter in Vermont in general is a sight to behold, and this year it seems the Winter Festival is the crown jewel of the season.

Snow blankets the ground like powdered sugar on a donut, and the air is filled with the sounds of laughter, the scent of pine, and the mouthwatering aroma of every comfort food imaginable. It looks as if the entire state has turned out for the festivities, while bundled up in coats and scarves, eager to indulge in the festivities at hand.

But I’m not here to indulge—well, not entirely. I’m here to track down Agatha Reed, and according to her Insta Pics account, she’s got a booth serving up samples of her famous comfort food. But whatever she’s got cooking, I seriously doubt it can beat the mac and crack we had back at the Cozy Croon Café.

The other night I had a dream I was swimming around in a vat of the stuff, naked and eating all the mac and crack I wanted. I’ve never felt so satisfied but, of course, I’d never tell Everett.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that food has a way of bringing secrets to the surface, and I’m hoping Agatha’s got more to share than just her recipes.

“Thanks for inviting me, Lot,” Keelie Nell Fisher, my blonde bestie since preschool, says as she pushes the double stroller I borrowed from my mother. And that stroller just so happens to be occupied with both little Bear and Lyla Nell.

Keelie married my notorious high school ex-boyfriend, Bear Fisher, whose favorite hobby at the time was cheating on me. But he’s settled down and wisely so since he’s married to my bestie.

I’ve made it clear to Bear that should he cheat on Keelie, he’ll have to pay with a pound of flesh. I’ve got a meat cleaver in my arsenal of knives, and he knows exactly which pound of flesh I’ll be coming after.

“Are you kidding?” I squawk her way. “I’ve been dying for a day out with my bestie and our kiddos. How are things at the Honey Pot?”

Keelie has been the manager there for years.

“It couldn’t be better. Charlie has a weekly special that draws in the same customers week after week. And her culinary talents are off the chart. Some days I think she’s dimming her light by locking herself up in the Honey Pot. Charlie has the culinary chops to compete with the best of them on a world stage. You know, like that big cooking shindig they have every year in Vegas.”

“The Vegas Flavor Frenzy? I’m more than familiar. There’s a savory competition and a baking segment as well—the Sin City Sugar Showdown. They have a show that follows it and I tune in every year.” I tick my head. “Hey, maybe we should sign Charlie up? It doesn’t take place until August and the twins would be five months old by then. Maybe we could all go and watch Charlie do her thing? And show the whole country who they’re messing with.”

“Yes, to all of the above. And now that I know they have a baking competition, I think we should sign you up, too. That way I can watch my boss and my bestie teach the world who’s boss when it comes to competition in the kitchen.”

“That sounds like a dream—but a pipe dream. I’ll probably be too pooped to party, let alone board a plane and head to Vegas.”

We weave through the crowd, dodging children with sticky fingers and adults with steaming mugs of hot chocolate. The festival is in full swing, with booths lining the streets offering everything from hand-knitted scarves to artisanal cheeses. But I’ve got my sights set on the booth up ahead, where a line of eager festival-goers is waiting for a taste of Agatha’s cooking.

I’m about to make my way over when I hear a familiar voice call out, “Well, if it isn’t Lady Luck herself, fresh off her winning streak.”

I turn to see Noah striding toward me with a playful grin on his face, and behind him, Everett follows, with that unmistakable glint in his eye that says he’s not here to just enjoy the festivities. Neither of them is dressed for work. Instead, they’re both clad in flannels and jeans. It’s almost four in the afternoon, so I’m guessing Everett had a hearing get canceled, which cleared up his schedule.

“What are you two doing here?” I ask, bubbling with a laugh and Lyla Nell does the same.

“ Daddy ,” she cries, nearly lunging out of the stroller as she struggles to reach Noah. “ Daddy, Daddy! ” She turns to Everett and does the same.

Noah lands a kiss on her forehead. “We’re just here enjoying the festival, Lot. Thought we might check out the competition they’ve got going on.”

Everett nods. “And keep an eye on our favorite baker.” He bends down and gives Lyla Nell a quick hug and a kiss.

I turn to Keelie and frown. “I think I’m being followed.”

“It could be worse,” she says. “At least they’re hot and have no intention of chopping you up into little pieces.”

“Your mind is a dark place,” I tell her.

She shrugs. “I get that from the Sawyer side of the family.”

“Which explains a lot about Carlotta.” I nod because it’s true. I look back to the handsome steeds before us. “Now what is this competition of which you speak? Let me guess, it involves wolfing down as many burgers as you can in a five-minute window?” Here’s hoping.

Both the twins give a sharp kick as if begging me to sign up for this competition posthaste.

Everett nods. “The kind of competition where I show Noah here that he’s not as quick on his feet as he thinks he is.”

“We’ll see about that.” Noah twitches his brows my way. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Lottie can attest to that.”

My mouth falls open as all sorts of salacious thoughts flit through my mind.

“I’m talking about my physical prowess,” Noah says my way as if to clarify—worse yet, as if he knows exactly where my mind just drifted. “Out in the open, Lot.”

That time we were on his back patio, not wearing a stitch of clothing, exposed to all of the elements comes to mind and my jaw unhinges yet another notch.

“Lemon?” Everett looks genuinely worried for me.

“Sorry.” I wrinkle my nose. “Darn hormones.”

“I’ll scratch that itch later.” Everett’s lips curve with the hint of a malevolent smile that promises to do just that. “Right after the competition.”

“Let me guess,” Keelie says. “It’s another one of those ridiculous ‘manly man’ contests where you two get to flex your egos?”

Noah tips his head. “Something like that. There’s a lumberjack competition over by the ice sculptures. It turns out, Dundee Diddles and Whittles sells firewood, too. They’re supplying all the wood for the competition.”

Everett nods. “And they’ve found a great way to reduce their labor, seeing that we’ll be doing their job for them. Sort of the way Lemon does your job for you, Noah.”

A raucous laugh bubbles from Keelie. “You two never give up. It must be a blast living under the same roof.”

“Keelie.” I shake my head at her. “Noah still has his place across the street.”

“Sure he does,” she says with a naughty gleam in her sparkling blue eyes. “I get there are certain pretenses you need to keep up.” She winks over at Noah as she says it. “Good job, by the way.”

“I’m not laughing,” I say just as Carlotta and Mayor Nash appear out of nowhere.

“Look who showed up for a battle of the alpha males!” Carlotta bleats. “Sorry to break it to you, Foxy and Sexy, but I’ve brought out the top gun. Winner gets free firewood for a year, and Harry here is too cheap to turn on the furnace.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Mayor Nash laughs it off while waving to Keelie and offering me a kiss to the cheek. “How’s my girl? And how are my grandkids doing?” He gives Lyla Nell a quick pat then a pat to my belly as well.

“We’re healthy and happy and here for the food,” I tell him. And that’s the gospel truth, all of it.

Both Noah and Everett shoot me a look as if they know better.

They would.

“We’re all doing great,” I tell him. “And good luck to you,” I say just as a horn goes off and all participants are called to the baren snow-covered field to the left.

Carlotta and Mayor Nash take off while Keelie spastically yells into her phone for Bear to get down here.

Apparently, the lure of free firewood for a year is too strong to resist.

I lean toward Everett and Noah. “Please back out now. The thought of the two of you wildly swinging axes doesn’t sit well with me.”

“No way, no how.” Noah is the first to shut me down.

“Sorry. No can do, Lemon,” Everett concurs with a kiss.

“Fine.” I sigh, knowing there’s no stopping this disaster once it’s in motion. “But don’t expect me to patch you up if one of you loses a limb.”

“Don’t worry, Lemon.” A dry laugh thumps from Everett’s chest. “I’ll make sure my ax lands in all the right places as far as Noah is concerned.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

We take off in that direction, and by the time we reach the lumberjack arena, a crowd has already gathered, eager to watch the showdown.

Soon, Noah, Everett, Mayor Nash, and even Bear are all signed up, lined up, and ready to go with ax in hand. And boy, do those blades ever look sharp.

Everett tosses his ax an inch and catches it, testing the weight in his hands. “Ready to be humbled, Fox?”

Noah grins, gripping his own ax. “I think you mean ready to watch me win, Judge.”

Carlotta claps up a storm with a devious gleam in her eyes. “I’ve got ten bucks on the man with the sexiest swing!”

“Which one is that?” I ask, knowing full well I’m in for an earful.

“Scary Harry is my pick,” she calls out before leaning toward Keelie and me. “I know what side my bread is buttered on. And boy howdy, can that man butter my bits.”

“ Stop .” I hold up a hand to emphasize my point just as the competition begins, and the participants go at it with a vengeance, swinging their axes with precision and power.

The crowd cheers them on, and I can’t help but shake my head at it all.

Here I am, trying to unravel a murder mystery, and my two biggest distractions are busy playing lumberjack in the middle of a festival.

But what delicious distractions they are.

The final logs are split and the crowd erupts in applause.

And it’s Bear Fisher who is declared the winner.

“We won! ” Keelie screams at the top of her lungs and both little Bear and Lyla Nell nearly jump out of their stroller because of it. “ We won! ” She jumps and howls, and basically becomes the human equivalent of a helium balloon that just escaped into the sky.

There’s no pulling her back from this one and I wouldn’t want to.

I’m a big believer in letting my bestie relish in the moment.

As for Noah and Everett—aka the real competition—it’s clear that Everett won by a hair in that arena.

Noah shakes his head as he slaps Everett on the back. “You got lucky, Baxter. I’ll get you next time.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it, Fox. But you keep telling yourself what you need to hear in order to lessen the sting.”

Carlotta rushes over to Mayor Nash and gives him a big, fat smooch right here for all to see and evokes a few catcalls from the effort.

Keelie turns my way. “I say we celebrate with funnel cake. It’s on me!”

I glance over to where Noah and Everett help gather the wood that was split, then shoot a look over to the booth Agatha Reed is manning, which just so happens to be a few feet from the funnel cake.

We head that way and I tell Keelie I’ll catch up with her and the kids in a minute.

“Got it,” she says. “And don’t worry, Lot. I’ll make sure we don’t make too big of a mess with the powdered sugar!”

We split ways as I head straight for the exact redhead I came here looking for.

Something tells me I’m about to dig into something far messier than a plate of powdered sugar.