15. The Power of a Polka

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The candles were a big hit, especially with the tourists, who seemed to think they would make great souvenirs. One stooped-over woman with a shock of white curls spent a long time contemplating which style her granddaughter would prefer before deciding on a pair of tapers stamped with a honeycomb pattern.

The woman pressed the candles close to her nose and breathed in the beeswax scent, her eyes shut. "They remind me of the holidays with my own parents," she said with a smile softened by nostalgia.

Sabina wrapped the tapers in brown paper and tucked a business card under the twine. "I hope your granddaughter loves them," she said with a big smile of her own.

As the woman shuffled off down the lane, her purchase tucked safely in her quilted tote bag, Sabina sank down into one of the folding chairs.

"Who knew some candles could be so meaningful to people, huh?" she said, stretching her arms up above her head until her shoulders let out a satisfying crack.

Riley slid the last of another dozen bottles into the mini fridge; even without offering free samples, the mead had become one of their best-selling products. "Did you see Mr. Chibana? He just went by."

Sabina sat up straight. "Just now? Darn, I wanted to talk to him. Really give him the hard sell. Did he look impressed?"

They gave her a double thumbs up. "He made a lot of notes on his clipboard."

"Yes! I don't want to jinx it, but we might finally be in the running for the Best Vendor Award."

"I told you that you had nothing to worry about." Riley shut the fridge door and tilted their head with a grin. "Hey, you've got a visitor."

Sabina followed their nod to see Mel standing in the lane. Hands in her pockets, she surveyed the High Valley Honey stand with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"She's not here to see me," Sabina whispered furiously.

"Right. I'm sure she's just checking out the competition." Whistling, Riley moved down to the other end of the table to greet a customer.

Sweeping a handful of empty sample cups into the trash, Sabina looked over her own stand as though seeing it for the first time. She was suddenly self-conscious of the lopsided pyramid of honey jars that needed restacking, the candies spread messily across the tablecloth, the fingerprints all over the glass door of the fridge.

Unaware of Sabina's crisis of confidence, Mel sauntered up to the table. "You know, when Otis said you were selling candles, I thought they'd be pretty lame. But these are actually kinda cool."

A compliment, from Mel? That was unsettling. "Thanks," she said cautiously.

Mel picked up one of the round beehive-shaped candles. "Cute," she said, and then smoothed a thumb over its curves, slowly, in a way that made Sabina's dumb hormonal brain go into overdrive.

"I made the candles," Sabina blurted. "Well, me and my sisters made them. The wax is from our hives, of course. My parents showed me how to clean it, and-"

A smile crept across Mel's face, and Sabina realized she was babbling. She snapped her jaw shut and told herself to get it together. It was ridiculous to get worked up about the way this annoying girl caressed a candle.

"You've finally decided to join the competition, huh." Mel set the candle down.

Sabina snorted and flicked her hair back over shoulder. "You're not that far ahead. I only need to win one week to catch up."

"That's true." Mel slipped her hands back into her pockets. "It won't be this week, though. I heard Mr. Chibana gave it to Gretel's Pretzels."

"No way." Sabina frowned. "They were so boring before. What did they do?"

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