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the deal. Willow had every intention of cleaning and organizing her way into Wilson Woodhaus’s good graces.
    And she’d start with the cupboards. As she drove out of town and along the tree-lined lane to his quirky old barn, she tried to remember the configuration of cupboards in his miniscule kitchen. She’d come equipped with trash bags and a laundry basket full of dollar store drawer organizers, plastic containers, and lazy Susans. A person could never have too many lazy Susans.
    She parked at the foot of the red-painted stairs. As she wrestled the laundry basket up all twelve of them, she pictured Wilson shoveling the rough-hewn steps every time it snowed. A man with his talent ought to have a nicer place. At the very least, an indoor stairway. She balanced the basket on one hip as she turned the doorknob. The door flew open and dollar store plastic skittered across white vinyl. Willow got down on her knees. Chasing a runaway lid, she crawled under Wilson’s sad little excuse for a kitchen table. Her caboose banged a chair, sending a pile of papers snowing down onto the plastic jungle.
    Smack-dab in front of her lay a single-spaced document.
    Why the Shops at Cedar Creek Settlement Need Wilson Woodhaus
.
    Wilson’s essay for the contest. The essay she hadn’t a clue how to write. Was this a gift from heaven or a temptation from the other realm? She tried to avert her eyes.
    Could she help it if the paper happened to land, faceup, at her knees?

    Wilson sat across the table from the girl who simultaneously jiggled her leg and tapped a pencil on her knee. “Tell me a little about yourself and where you hope to go with your art.”
    “I’ve always loved to draw. It’s like an obsession. My mother used to say I was born with a pencil in my fist. After she died, art was kind of my therapy, you know? Willow bought me gobs of paper.”
    “Speaking of Willow, how is she doing with preparing for the contest?”
    “Great. All because of you.”
    “Me?” He couldn’t remember anything he’d said that would have helped Willow with the application process.
    “Yeah. She figured if you liked it, it had to be good.”
    Ah
. She was referring to the shop space. “It was quite warm and inviting.”
    “You should tell her that.”
    “I think she understood that I found it more than adequate for my needs.”
    Star blinked. “Stick with the warm and inviting thing. She could use that as a slogan.”
    “Or
I
could.” He lifted his left eyebrow and smiled at her. “I’m a fierce competitor and I have every intention of winning.”
    “You’re entering?”
    “Of course. That’s why I was there the other day when she—”
    “What?”
Star’s posture turned rigid. “What were you doing? Spying on her? Trying to steal her secrets?”
    “Spying? I was there first. What are you—?”
    Her chair scraped the floor as she stood. “How could you do that to her? Willow is the kindest, most giving person I’ve ever met in my whole life. She gave up all her hopes and dreams for me and my brothers and she’s always doing nice things for other people and I can tell she really likes you and when you two were sledding together it sure looked like you liked her, too, and—”
    “I
do
like her!” Wilson stood and planted his hands on his hips. He was not taking on this wildcat as a student. And where had that profession of
like
come from? He took a calming breath. “Star, this isn’t personal. It would be a wise business move for either of us to get exposure like this.”
    “Exposure?
So you’d expose the most kindhearted person in the whole world to heartbreak on the off chance that your stupid chili is better than—”
    “
Chili?
What in the world does chili have to do with the price of tea in China?”
    Star’s ringed fingers clutched her hips, mocking his pose. “How could chili not have something to do with a chili contest?”
    Wilson closed his eyes and sank back into his chair. As the irate girl stared, he