Page 95 of Forbidden to Fall

Whether it was politeness or actual interest, she took a sample. She didn’t pop it into her mouth like I expected, though. She just thanked us and wandered to the next booth.

I gave the samples to James to offer to the young family that came by next, but I stayed near him, smiling and hoping to show a united front. They, at least, were big fans of the blondies, and under duress exerted by their five-year-old daughter, they bought a small box.

James and I low-fived behind our backs.

After the third sample offering, I couldn’t justify staying any longer. I wished James luck and ran back to the bakery booth, where a couple of people were waiting.

The rest of the day produced a surprisingly constant line of people, including the Ednas, who hung around for almost half an hour, chatting to me about the mayor’s love life—a topic of rampant speculation and even voting—while I tried to respond appropriately and serve other customers. May stopped by to give me a hug on her way to the farm’s booth during that time, something which made the Ednas share a significant look.

By nine o’clock tonight, word would be around Autumn Ridge that May Carver and Sadie Stevenson were best friends.

I didn’t see James again until it was time to close up shop at six.

According to May and him, the rest of the day had gone much better. People had loved the s’more maple blondies, but they’d sold a healthy number of maple pretzel cookies and cream puffs as well.

We had enough stock for tomorrow and the next day, which was bittersweet. It meant I didn’t have to whip up extra batches of anything tomorrow morning, but it also meant things weren’t flying off the “shelves,” which would’ve been preferred, obviously.

Tuesday morning, as I gathered items for the bakery booth, I got a text from Dom letting me know he’d gotten the fuel pump in, and I’d be able to pick up my car Thursday. It would be weird to drive it again. I’d gotten so used to the truck. I wouldn’t be racing Formula 1s or anything, but I’d become fairly confident driving stick.

My car being fixed also meant it was almost time to pay the piper—the piper being Dom. I wasn’t totally sure what the final cost would be for the fuel pump, but I knew I couldn’t afford it, especially not with the farm booth doing fewer sales than I’d hoped for.

I didn’t have time to think much on it, at least, since the bakery booth did a steady flow of sales and a lot of people stopped by just to chat. That was the hazard of having lived in a place since you were born—you knew everyone, and they knew you.

The Ednas stopped by again, this time in the afternoon, wearing pink stickers informing me they’d voted on the identity of the mayor’s secret love. They were also armed with barely masked questions attempting to determine the nature of my relationship with May Carver and whether it meant James and Ryan had reconciled.

Edna G. shot that idea right down, though, making sure she spoke loudly enough for me to hear and chime in if I so chose. “Oh, I don’t think they’ll ever reconcile. I heard James is still in love with Lily, the poor boy, and Ryan would never give him the chance to steal her away—not that she would take it. She’s the sweetest thing, and it’s plain as day she worships her husband.”

Muscles tight, I ignored them, focusing on packing up a half-dozen sticky buns for Mrs. Batchelder, even as my stomach swirled with a feeling I hated.

Either the Ednas had impeccable timing, or they just stuck around until something happened, because just after Edna G.’s comment, James himself jogged up to the booth.

My heart skipped, and I resisted the urge to glance at the two women. “Hey. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “I just…thought I’d spell you for a couple minutes so you could come to the farm booth for a minute.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I just think you should go over there and check things out.”

I narrowed my eyes, his non-responsiveness setting off my Spidey Sense. He didn’t seem worried. He didn’t seem…anything. He was James the Stoic Carver.

“We can help him run the booth,” Edna B. said.

No way in hades was I about to leave James alone with those two mischief-makers. “I can just put a sign up for a couple of minutes.” I grabbed the one I’d made yesterday and set it at the front of the booth counter.

“Bye, ladies,” I said with a smile and a wave before walking with James in the direction of the farm booth.

Not far enough to avoid hearing “Well, he’s grown very handsome, hasn’t he?”

“If Lily won’t take him, I might have a go.”

I didn’t dare look at James, and he didn’t acknowledge he’d heard anything—he’d have to be deaf not to. We just kept walking, threading our way through the people strolling Main.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He glanced down at me. “You’ll see.”

We sidestepped a crowd of high schoolers, and I stopped short.