peek at the quilt, then get to the post office before it closes for lunch. See you all later.”
As Rose walked away, Sage crossed her arms. Her toes began to tap. “I can’t believe you gave her an Angel’s Rest medal.”
“Blazon.”
“She’s not a permanent resident. Why does she get one?”
“She earned it.”
“By sending a baby gift?”
“It’s a huge step for her.”
“I’ve made huge steps.”
“True, and I have faith that someday, maybe even someday soon, you will fully embrace healing’s grace and earn a blazon, too.”
“But not yet?”
Celeste patted her hand. “I need to move along. I have an appointment to get my hair cut in a few minutes, although I’ll probably stop back by here afterward—I love to see all the contest entries come in. It’s so exciting. Good-bye for now. I enjoyed our lunch, dear. Have a great afternoon.”
Sage pursed her lips. Her toes continued to tap. Her gaze on her departing sister, she barely noticed who walked in the door.
Colt sauntered up carrying a canvas bag. “Hey there, beautiful.”
She hardly spared him a glance. “Rose got an Angel’s Rest medal.”
Colt looked toward the door, then back at Sage. “Okay. Hey, I missed you, too. Yes, the trip went well. Thanks. I knew you’d be on pins and needles waiting for me to get home and that you’d throw yourself into my arms and smother me with kisses, so I hurried and risked my life driving too fast over Sinner’s Prayer Pass.”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Ouch.” He clapped a hand against his chest and said, “If I start to bleed out from the wound, would you tell my brother that he gets my baseball card collection?”
Sage had the grace to be embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.” She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “Welcome home, Rafferty. I missed you.”
“That’s better.” He went back for another kiss, this one enthusiastic and long enough to cause some catcalls in the theater.
“Why don’t we go home?” Sage suggested when they finally stepped apart.
“Sounds great.” He slipped his arm around her waist. “Let me take care of something here real quick and then we’ll go.”
He steered her toward the registration table. “Hello, Marlene. I have an entry for the local artists competition.”
“You do?” Sage was surprised. She hadn’t noticed him working on anything before he left town.
“Since I couldn’t put my hands on you, I put them to work thinking about you.” He set the bag down, reached inside, and drew out a cloth-draped shape. He removed the cloth to reveal the graceful figure of a woman with wings on her back and a butterfly in her palm.
“That’s fantastic, Colt,” Marlene said. “It’s Tinker Bell.”
“No.” He grinned down at Sage. “I call it Paradise.”
“Well, I thought for sure Marcus would win with his photograph of the mountain lion at the edge of Hummingbird Lake, but with your Paradise, you’ll give him a real run for the money.”
“Excuse me?” The question burst from Sage’s mouth.
“Nothing personal, Sage. Your little dog painting is nice, but this …” She gestured toward the carving. “This is powerful.”
“Powerful.”
“Delicate, but at the same time, strong and beautiful. Powerful.”
“Thanks, Marlene.” Colt filled out the registration form, took a folded check from his pocket, then handed both items to Marlene. He winked at Sage and asked, “You ready?”
She stared at the carving. “He’s powerful,” she muttered. Her foot started tapping. “She got an Angel’s Rest medal.”
“A blazon,” Colt corrected. When Sage lowered her brow and glared at him, he said, “C’mon, Cinnamon. Lighten up.”
“I hate it when people say that to me.”
He actually had the gall to laugh. “You’re not afraid of a little friendly competition, are you?”
If Sage were a cartoon figure, steam would have been coming out of her ears. “Afraid of competition? Me?”
Colt shrugged. “I didn’t think so. Maybe you simply don’t agree that my pixie is more powerful than your Snowdrop.” To Marlene, he asked, “Who are the judges this year?”
“I’m one of them,” she replied, her smile bright.
Sage focused on the carving. It was beautiful. She knew it represented her. Delicate but strong. That’s how he saw her. He carved this because he wanted her to realize how he saw her. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
His innocent look didn’t fool her. “You’re trying to goad me into taking another step along Recovery Road, aren’t you?”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“You think that I’m too competitive to hand you the blue ribbon by keeping