“I’m not sure.”
Pia flipped through the list. There were the usual gift cards from local restaurants and shops. She would bundle those into a couple of baskets, so the value was greater. That should up the bidding price. Ethan Hendrix had offered five thousand dollars’ worth of remodeling. There were weekends in Tahoe and up at the ski resort, ski lessons, and a weekend in Dallas compliments of Raoul Moreno. His package included airfare, two nights at Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek, dinner at the hotel and two tickets to a Dallas Cowboys home game…on the fifty-yard line.
“There’s some money in that prize,” Pia said, impressed by Raoul’s generosity.
“I know. My eyes nearly bugged out,” Charity said. “The guy’s already donating his camp. That’s more than enough.”
“He’s nice,” Pia said absently. “He can’t help it.”
Charity laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It can be.” Although Raoul had claimed to have a dark past. Something that should have bothered her but instead made him seem more human.
“He’s very good-looking,” Charity told her.
Pia looked at her friend. “Don’t even go there.”
“I’m just saying he’s here, he’s handsome, successful, rich. I don’t think he’s dating anyone. He and his ex divorced a couple of years ago.”
Pia raised her eyebrows. “You’ve been checking up on him?”
“Oh, please. I’m with Josh.”
As if that explained everything. Which it probably did, Pia thought with only a hint of envy. It wasn’t that she’d ever had a thing for Josh, it was more the way he looked at Charity that made Pia feel a little lost and sad. Josh didn’t just adore his wife, he worshipped her. It was as if he’d been waiting his whole life to find her and now that he had, he was never letting her go.
Not that Pia would trust that kind of adoration, but it was nice to think about.
“I’m not interested,” she said firmly.
“How do you know? Have you spent any time with him?”
Pia wasn’t ready to talk about the embryos, but the truth was getting pregnant with them would change everything. Very few men would be interested in raising someone else’s kids. Especially triplets. The thought was beyond daunting. And even if there was a guy like that out there, she knew Raoul wasn’t him.
“We’ve spoken,” Pia said. “Like I said—he’s nice enough. Just not for me.”
She eyed her friend’s belly. Charity was barely showing, but she knew a whole lot more about being pregnant than Pia. But asking anything, as in finding out what it really felt like, meant answering a lot of questions. Pia wasn’t ready for that.
The clock from The Church of the Open Door chimed the hour. Pia glanced at her watch and winced.
“I need to run,” she said. “I have fifteen places I need to be.”
“Go,” Charity told her. “I’ll handle the auction. Don’t even think about it.”
“I won’t,” Pia told her. “Fool’s Gold owes you.”
BY ELEVEN IT WAS APPARENT the town had come through to support the school. The items brought in for the yard sale had been snapped up, with most people insisting on paying two or three times the posted price. The donation bins were overflowing, as were the tables, and people just kept on coming.
Pia went from area to area, checking on her volunteers, only to discover she wasn’t needed. The event ran so smoothly, she started to get nervous.
Over by the mini food court, she bought a hot dog and a soda, telling the kid manning the cart to keep the change.
“Everyone’s doing that,” he said with a grin, stuffing the extra bills into a large coffee can nearly overflowing. “We’ve had to empty this twice already.”
“Good news,” she said, strolling over to one of the benches and taking a seat.
She was exhausted, but in a good way. Right now, in the middle of a sunny day, surrounded by her fellow citizens, she felt good. As if everything was going to be all right. Sure, the school had nearly burned down, but the town had pulled together and order had been restored. Order had always felt really good to her.
Three boys came running down the path. The one in back, a slight redheaded boy, plopped down next to her and grinned.
“There’s free lemonade over there,” he said, pointing across the park.
“Let me guess. You’ve already had a couple of glasses.”
“How’d you know?”
“I can see the happy glow of sugar in your eyes. I’m Pia.”
“I’m Peter.” He wrinkled his nose. “I go to the school that burned down. Everybody’s doing all this so we can get back to class.”
She held in a smile. “Not your idea of a good time?”
“I like school, I guess.”
Peter looked to be about nine or ten, with freckles and big brown eyes. He was skinny but had a wide smile that made her want to grin in return.
“What would you rather do than go to school?” she asked.