Margery lifted the lid on the box, and when she folded back the tissue paper, her eyebrows arched. Seeking Prissie’s gaze, she teasingly asked, “
Not
an angel?”
It was a friendly jibe, and a smile flickered across Prissie’s lips. She just shrugged and watched with bated breath as Margery lifted her present for the rest to see.
“Oooh! So pretty!” enthused Jennifer.
“Let me see!” exclaimed April, and Margery held the suncatcher up to the light. She smiled at it as it spun, and Prissie’s relief buoyed her mood … right up until Margery opened her last gift.
The elaborate package coordinated with the decorations, making it obvious that the box was from her parents. Margery’s eyes sparkled with an eager expectation that made Prissie wonder if she’d been promised something specific for her fifteenth birthday. The wrappings fell away, and her squeal of delight was soon taken up by April, then Elise and Jennifer. “What is it?” Prissie asked, craning her neck to see.
“A cell phone!” Margery exclaimed, clasping the wee bit of technology to her heart, then holding it at arm’s length to give it an adoring look. “Finally! Thanks, Mom!”
“Who will you call?” quizzed Elise.
Jennifer bounced and said, “Me first!”
“Only if I get her first text,” bargained April, a true haggler.
“Okay,” Margery giggled. “Let me get your numbers entered.”
Everyone dipped into pockets and purses and produced cells of their own. Margery’s new number was exchanged, photos were taken, and the conversation zipped along, leaving her in the proverbial dust. She idly poked at the icing roses left on her plate and tried to imagine her mother’s reaction if she said she wanted a cell phone. Laughter was pretty high on the list of possibilities, just under flat-out refusal.
With a soft sigh, Prissie quietly announced, “Be right back.”
Jennifer was too busy comparing features with Margery to notice, and April was focused on quizzing Mrs. Burke about texting or tweeting or something. Only Elise glanced up from her cell phone.
Did she smirk?
Prissie wasn’t sure, but she just kept walking.
Bypassing the powder room, Prissie snuck toward one of her favorite places in the house. Mrs. Burke called it the solarium, which Momma said was just a fancy name for a sunroom. It was airy and bright with a high ceiling, yellow walls, and plant stands in front of every one of the tall windows — like window boxes on the inside of the house.
Duchess, a regal, long-haired feline with a flat nose and orange eyes, flicked her plumed tail as Prissie tiptoed closer and offered her fingertips to be sniffed. “You’re very different from Tansy,” she murmured softly. “She’s just an ordinary barn cat.” Duchess stood, stretched, leaped from her perch, then stalked out of the room, leaving Prissie alone. The snub stung more than it should have, and she had to take deep breaths to keep from dissolving into angry tears.
It looked as though her best friend
wasn’t
anymore. Sitting on the floor, Prissie hugged her knees tight to her chest and tried to ignore the stifling sense of dejection. She didn’t
like
feeling like an outsider in a place she had always belonged. Groaning softly, she hid her face and wished she could get away. They’d probably never notice she was gone.
For now, all she could do was get through whatever was left of the afternoon with her dignity intact. But how? Prissie was concentrating so hard that she nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. Turning her head, she listened curiously as Mrs. Burke exchanged a few words with someone
on the front porch. A moment later, the woman’s voice carried through the house. “Prissie, your escort’s here!”
Mystified, Prissie slipped out of the solarium and hurried toward the front hall just as Margery and the other girls poked their heads out of the dining room.
There on the front step, with his hands clasped before him, stood Koji. He leaned forward just enough to peep past Mrs. Burke, avidly studying the ornate chandelier that hung above the curving staircase. As soon as Prissie came into view, he straightened and beamed at her. “I came to get you.”
They’d made no such arrangement, but she was glad for the out. Flashing an apologetic smile, she said, “I need to go. I’ll see you guys soon.” She nodded to Mrs. Burke and said, “Everything was beautiful. Thank you for having me.” Not stopping to introduce Koji to her friends, she escaped out the front door, which closed on the sound of curious whispers.
Prissie marched down the cobblestone walk, back rigid. Once they reached the street, she asked, “Is anything wrong?” Koji solemnly searched her face as if unsure how to answer, so she tried again. “Why did you come? Is something wrong at home?”
“No,” he quickly assured. “All is well. Why are
you
distressed, Prissie?”
She was so hurt and angry, she didn’t need any more urging to unburden her heart. As they walked slowly toward the bakery, Prissie told him about all the little slights she’d endured and her fears where Margery was concerned. “I’m her best friend!” she ranted. “How could she
do
this?”
“If she
is
truly your friend, she will not abandon you,” Koji offered.
“I think she already has,” Prissie replied sourly.
Koji gazed at her raptly, and Prissie turned her face from his curiosity. There were times when a person didn’t
want
to be analyzed. However, when he spoke, it wasn’t to pry. “There are many who have known great distress and loneliness because of the faithlessness of one they called friend.”
“I guess,” she murmured. She couldn’t argue with that, but it didn’t really make her feel any better. She kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk and wondered why life was so unfair.
“Prissie?” Koji asked tentatively. When she looked his way, he stopped and so did she. “I cannot promise that I will not fail, or that I can be here for always, but while I am here, I will be your friend.”
“
While
you’re here?” she asked curiously. “Where else would you be?”
“Wherever I am sent.” He smiled tentatively and asked, “Is that not enough?”
For right now, it
was
, and Prissie nodded gratefully. “It’s almost like you knew I needed to get out of there,” she remarked with a weak laugh.
“Yes,” he replied solemnly.
Prissie looked at him keenly. “Why
are
you here?”
“I was sent.”
“Who sent you?”
“Can you not guess?” he asked cryptically, and began walking again.
She looked over her shoulder uncomfortably and asked, “My guardian angel?”
He shook his head. “There was no need to relay messages from one angel to another. He who dwells in you said you needed me, so I am here.”
Prissie was amazed that Koji could say it as simply as that,
as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “God told you to pick me up early?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes.”
“That was nice of him,” she mumbled.
“Indeed.”
Dinner that night almost made up for the afternoon’s drama.
“Oh, man! This is actually
good
!” Neil moaned, an expression of ecstasy on his face.
“You sound surprised,” Tad remarked blandly.
“You aren’t?” he challenged, shaking his fork at his brother before digging in again.
“Nope.”
Zeke squinted at his serving of pie. “Isn’t this one of Grandma’s pies?”
“No, buddy. This is your sister’s handiwork,” corrected Jayce.
“But it’s just as good as your grandma’s,” declared Grandpa Pete, giving Prissie a wink.
“Yeah, it’s actually edible,” commented Beau around a mouthful. Prissie wrinkled her nose at him, and he blinked innocently. “What? It
is
!”
Naomi Pomeroy smiled approvingly. “It’s
delicious
, sweetheart! Is this your recipe for the contest?”
“I was thinking … maybe?” she replied, a little flustered by all the compliments.
“Oh,
definitely
,” retorted Grandma Nell in no-nonsense tones. “The flavor is outstanding!”
“Its a winner,” mumbled Neil. “Something’s different about it.”
Jayce held up his plate to inspect his wedge of pie, whose filling had a definite cast of pink. “Good color, good flavor,” he mused aloud. Catching his daughter’s eye, he added, “I hope you can replicate this!”
Prissie flushed with pleasure over her father’s compliment. “Yes, I’m sure I can.”
Neil leaned over to steal a forkful off of Tad’s plate, but his older brother fended him off with a swift elbow to the ribs. Instead, Neil turned to Jude and attempted to wheedle an extra taste off of the six-year-old’s plate. “C’mon, Judicious, please?”
The youngest Pomeroy smiled sweetly but answered, “No way!”
Prissie couldn’t recall a single time when something she’d made had been such a big hit. Her brows slowly lifted as her brothers fought over her cooking, and she began to smile, a little giddy over her first real success in the kitchen. Wanting to share her happiness with
someone
, she glanced at Koji, whose plate was already licked clean. The young angel, who’d been picking up human gestures from her little brothers, cheerfully gave her a thumbs up.
W
ere you listening, sir?”
Abner turned from the yahavim who flitted around him, sparing his apprentice a wry glance. “Why do you assume I wasn’t?”
“It’s usually the case, sir.”
The silver-haired angel frowned thoughtfully and murmured, “So it is.”
“Things are stirring, and the girl seems to be at the center of it all.”
“You cannot see the center if you cannot see the whole,” the Caretaker absently chided. “And it would seem that we have a more pressing problem.”
“Do we?”
“Mmm,” Abner hummed in concern. “One of my flock is missing.”
The Milton County Fair was a long-standing Pomeroy family tradition. According to Grandpa, the fairgrounds were spitting distance from the farthest edge of their property, between them and the sprawling acreage of Sunderland State Park, north and east of town. Prissie had always wondered if you could catch any of the sights and sounds of the fair from their house, but she doubted she’d ever find out. From sunup on the first day until the last fireworks finale, her family practically
lived
there.
Every summer during the festivities, Jayce Pomeroy closed up Loafing Around, making the ten-day event a kind of family vacation. Not that they didn’t work. Far from it! Grandpa had staked out a prime location back in the day, so Pomeroy Orchards maintained a presence on one of the fairgrounds’ busiest corners, right in the middle of everything. They were famous for kettle corn and caramel apples, and ever since Jayce had entered the bakery business, they’d added apple turnovers.
Early on the first day of the fair, Neil helped Grandma Nell manhandle the huge coffee pot into place. Once it was perking, it would lure in the rest of the crews who were still setting up. The weather promised to be gorgeous — bright and clear, with just enough of a breeze to carry the scent of pancakes and sausages from the restaurant run by the Lion’s Club. The only thing that detracted from Prissie’s excitement was the offending presence of her father’s trainee.
She didn’t appreciate Ransom butting in. The very
thought made her angry enough to use a little more force than necessary when putting the big kettle corn scoops into their place at the end of the cooling tray. Ransom glanced over from where he was loading trays of baked goods into a glass display case, but didn’t comment. If nothing else, it gave her the chance to turn up her nose at him.
“Okay there, Priss?” Tad asked.
“Grandpa will have a fit if you dent his baby,” Neil remarked warily.
“I know,” she mumbled irritably. Really, it was all Ransom’s fault.
Koji had gently pointed out that the teen was putting in a lot of hours helping Jayce and Auntie Lou stay a step ahead of each day’s turnover quota. Prissie grudgingly admitted this was true, but a part of her had hoped that her father would ask
her
to lend a hand.
Last night, Dad hadn’t come home until late, and when Momma had gotten them up at the crack of dawn, Prissie had wished she was more like Koji, who didn’t need to sleep. Tad plodded along as usual, but then her oldest brother really only had one speed. Still, she could tell he was sleepy, and Neil’s contagious yawns weren’t helping.
Beau and Koji trudged past, sharing the handle of an old red wagon loaded with boxes of popcorn that were to be stacked against the far wall of their booth. They’d already made several trips, bringing the oil, salt, and the special powdered glaze they needed for whenever Grandpa took it into his head to do a batch of caramel corn. The young angel’s gaze darted around, trying to take in everything at once. Catching Prissie’s eye, he smiled brightly. “This is exciting!”
“Can you believe he’s never been to a fair before?” Beau announced to the rest of the group.
“No kidding?” Neil remarked in surprise.
“Make sure you show him around,” Grandma Nell urged, including each of her grandchildren in a sweeping gaze.
“Thank you very much!” Koji exclaimed, then followed Beau back toward the van to get another load of supplies.
“Weird kid,” remarked Neil.
Prissie gave him a scolding look. “That’s
not
nice.”
“He obviously grew up with different traditions,” Grandma Nell said in a quelling tone.
Neil ruffled his blond hair with a chagrined expression. “I didn’t mean anything by it. He’s just a little … I dunno.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” interjected Ransom, whose gaze followed the young angel. “So where’s he from, anyhow?” Prissie froze and glanced nervously at the teen. He noticed and quirked one brow at her. “You don’t
know
?”
“I
do
,” she retorted.
Nell Pomeroy calmly answered, “His paperwork said he’s from the Northern Marianas.”
“Where’s
that
?” Prissie asked in surprise.
“They’re islands in the Pacific Ocean,” her grandmother explained. “It’s halfway around the world, but they speak English … which is why we haven’t had to deal with a language barrier.”
“Oh,” she managed, realizing that Koji would
have
to have a cover story. Random kids didn’t just show up on people’s doorsteps. As Prissie puzzled this out, she happened to look in Ransom’s direction. He looked the same as usual in jeans and a T-shirt, though he also wore a plain white apron like the kind her dad used when he was at work. The addition
struck her as odd, until her dad showed up, hauling a cooler. Ransom snapped to attention so fast, he practically saluted. “Can I help you with that, sir?” he inquired.
“No need,” Jayce replied amiably. “Did you finish loading that case already?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Prissie was annoyed. In class, Ransom always acted so carelessly, far more interested in making people laugh than in anything the teachers had to say. Yet here he was, falling all over himself to impress
her
dad. Someone who was supposedly up until midnight icing turnovers had no right to be so energetic, and a non-family member shouldn’t be so enthusiastic about their booth. She watched him closely, and when the opportunity presented itself, she confronted him. “Aren’t you tired?” she blurted.
Ransom shrugged and said, “I’m okay. What do you care?”
“I don’t!” she protested. “I was just wondering.”
“Uh-huh. Well, for your information, I’m a morning person.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Since
when
?”
If any of her brothers had been on the receiving end of this look and tone, they knew enough to back down, but Ransom was either very brave or very stupid. He did that funny little eyebrow quirk again. “Since always. I’ve been up early for a paper route since I was twelve, and I run in the mornings.”
“You run?”
“Yep.”
“You’re not on our track team,” Prissie argued.
“Nope. That was at my old school, before… .” He hesitated, then crossed his arms over his chest and finished, “Before I moved here. Satisfied?”
Prissie wasn’t satisfied, but she was ready to be done. “If I were you, I’d go home,” she snapped.
He snorted quietly. “I knew you were bossy, Miss Priss, but I didn’t know you were lazy.”
As Ransom sauntered off, Neil snickered into his sleeve, and she rounded on him instead. The fact that her older brother dove for cover only partially soothed her ruffled feathers. Her archnemesis had forced his way into her world, and she was certain it would ruin everything she loved about the fair.
Momma was the one who insisted that the day Prissie turned in her pie at the judging booth should also be her first free day, and she was grateful for her mother’s foresight. She was suffering from a bad case of nerves, knowing that the judges would soon be tasting her entry. It made her jumpy just thinking about it.
Prissie doubted she could have remained in the confines of the booth without exploding like so much popcorn. So instead, Momma turned her loose on the fairgrounds, but not alone. She was secretly thankful that she had a readymade distraction in the form of her youngest brother, Jude. Taking Jude’s small, sturdy hand in hers, Prissie asked, “What first?”
“Can we check on Maddie?” he asked hopefully.
They crossed to the far end of the fairgrounds where the barns were arranged in neat rows. Beyond these was an open field backed by a steep, forested ridge that was fenced off — the boundary of Sunderland State Park.
Inside the poultry barn, she and Jude made their way
along the wide aisles lined with wire cages. There were all kinds of chickens clucking and crowing in concert. Further along, the ducks, geese, and a handful of turkeys added to the cacophony. Grandpa had obviously been around earlier, for their ducks and chickens — including Maddie — had already been cared for, and their eggs had been collected.
Jude gave his hen some last minute advice regarding her upcoming judging, then promised to stop back later that afternoon. “We’ll bring popcorn,” he whispered, and Maddie ruffled her feathers and offered a crooning
buuuck-buck.
Satisfied that he’d done right by his pet, Jude announced, “Ready!”
For Prissie, today would be a free day from Koji. The young angel had wanted very much to experience all the wild rides, but Prissie couldn’t stand them. She preferred to keep her feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much. After some discussion, they’d decided on a three-way split. Prissie would watch over Jude, Beau would show Koji around, and Momma would take on Zeke. The family joke was that five Pomeroys took up the fingers on one hand, but Zeke was a handful all by himself.
Dad had given them enough money for all-day midway passes, so Prissie led Jude to a ticket booth where they were fitted with bracelets. These were great because her brother loved to do one ride over and over again until he was satisfied with it. It took a long time for Jude to tire of anything, but it was kind of fun to watch him thoroughly enjoy each part. She waited patiently while he trotted up the stairs to the giant slide again and again, then joined him on the merry-go-round for half a dozen turns. That ride was pretty much the limit of her daring. They rode side by side, she on a white
stallion with pink roses braided into its forelock, and he on a coiling dragon with fierce red eyes.
By midday, things were picking up, and they had to wait in line for each of the rides. Much to Prissie’s chagrin, they ran into Ransom and his friends in front of the bumper cars. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” she asked loftily.
“I have the afternoon off,” he replied with a careless shrug. He turned back to talk to the other members of his gang before Prissie could properly snub him, so she settled for glaring at the back of his head.
Ever since Ransom had transferred into their school, he’d been hanging out with the same group of guys. Brock was a husky teen with curly black hair and a surly tough-guy attitude, and Joey was skinny and shy, with straight dishwater blond hair falling over his eyes. Both of them played on the football team with Neil, but she didn’t know either very well because they were in the grade above hers.
Ransom’s other friend was Marcus, a guy Jennifer had been wondering over ever since he’d joined their class the year before. While her friends could go on and on about his dusky complexion, big brown eyes, and cleft chin, Prissie couldn’t get past his hair, which probably would have been uniformly brown if it weren’t for a wide section at the top that was dyed platinum. When you added to the equation his ever-present brown leather jacket and rumors that he’d been shuffled around from one foster home to another, it equaled trouble.
As they neared their turn, she couldn’t resist another jab. “Aren’t you a little
old
for a ride like this?” she asked snidely.
“Nope. Nobody’s too old for fun,” Ransom replied amiably. “Besides, you’re here.”
“I’m with him,” she countered, nodding toward Jude.
He smirked at the six-year-old. “Hey, squirt! You taking your big sister for a spin?”
“Yep!” he replied cheerfully.
The teen leaned forward and conspiratorially added, “Bet she’s a backseat driver!” Jude giggled, and Ransom offered, “You stick with me, and we’ll wreak a little havoc out there.”
Before Prissie could protest, her brother exclaimed, “Cool!”
When the ticket-taker let them through the gate, Prissie moved resolutely toward a red car, but her younger brother hurried past her and hopped into a green one. He beamed at her and said, “Since we’re on the same team, we should have the same color!”
For a moment, Prissie had no idea what he meant, but then she followed Jude’s pointing finger toward Ransom, who was strapping into another green car. “Oh, honestly,” she grumbled, but she let her brother have his way. Stepping in, she smoothed her skirt over her knees before making sure he was securely buckled, then folded her arms over her chest.
As the crackle and snap of electricity signaled the start, Ransom whizzed past and circled to come alongside them. “Not gonna drive, Miss Priss?”
“I’m just along for the ride,” she replied with a disapproving frown.
“Guess that makes
you
her chauffeur,” he said to Jude. Gesturing urgently, he pointed to someone in the opposite corner. “See that guy in the orange car … the one with crazy hair? That’s my good friend Marcus, and he’s our target. Come on, squirt!” With a whoop, Ransom led the charge against their unsuspecting prey.
Prissie pursed her lips as the chase sent them careening all around the floor. If there were rules to this game, they
made absolutely no sense. She couldn’t tell who was “it” because they kept switching midstream. As far as she could tell, the game was just an excuse to ram into each other as often as possible.
Ransom cruised by and cheerfully asked, “Why so grumpy?” She just scowled, and he grinned more broadly. She wasn’t quite sure what irked her about Ransom, but he just seemed to push all her buttons.
Circling around, Ransom pulled up alongside them. “Maybe we should put you in your own car next time. You’re building up a lot of road rage! I’ll bet you could even give Brock a run for his money out here!”
Jude gasped and eagerly begged, “Can we go again, Prissie?
Please
?”