Page 165 of Sugar & Shadows

“You were gorgeous,” I said.

“Yeah. We were at a bonfire up at McManus Ridge,” she said.

My mind could immediately picture it. A young Marigold tossing her red hair and raising hell out in the woods.

“My friend Lucy took this right after Bobby pulled me behind the old sugar shack and told me he wanted to marry me. As soon as he worked up the courage to ask my dad’s permission, of course.”

I studied the photo. The scenery was beautiful, with tall trees, the mountain backdrop, and a small wooden structure that looked a lot like a sugar house. Above the door was an emblem—a carving of a large, ornate M that twisted and turned in knots.

“Where did you say this was?” I asked.

“McManus Ridge.” She sighed, nostalgia washing over her. “Back in the old days, it was the spot. We all lived up there during sugaring season. That was the sugar shack,” she said, pointing to the building with the gothic-style M on it. “And on the other side was the collection barn. It was the cold storage for the co-op syrup reserve back when the farmers all worked together. Before the corporations came in and ruined everything.”

My brain snagged as I studied the details of the photo. That M. It looked so familiar. Where had I seen it before?

“Is that in Maplewood?” I asked, still racking my brain.

“Yes. North side of town, off the old north road. The McManus family owned the largest farm in the county for years. A family of four brothers. They’re all dead now, sadly. Terrible what happened to them.” She went on naming names and giving me random details about Will’s ancestors.

But I kept staring. What was that symbol?

“And then it all went to hell. Late nineties, I think?” She shuffled back to her seat. “Bobby had died and I’d moved into this house. Upkeep on the farm was too much for me on my own, so I found tenants. Then I went away for a while. Did some traveling. Gave myself time to grieve. But while I was away, things got bad. It was such a shame. The McManus farm was such a joyful place, and the ridge was outfitted with a big fire ring and picnic tables. Teens used to pitch tents and camp up there. That syrup co-op was the heartbeat of the town. People got engaged up there. First kisses, first heartbreaks.”

She rested the photo in her lap and smiled at me.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been rambling. You’re so sweet to listen to an old lady.”

“You’re a hell of a lot more than just some old lady,” I said.

She giggled. “But really. I told Laurie to send you over because I need a favor.”

I dipped my chin. “Of course.”

“I was lucky enough to have two wonderful sons,” she said with pride. “They’ve built lovely lives and families and don’t need anything.” She sighed. “But I’m particularly fond of my granddaughter. I spend time with her when I go to the city for treatments. She’s a sweet girl, but she’s a bit of a mess. I need to know I can count on you to straighten her out.”

Confusion washed over me. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“When she moves here,” she said sweetly.

“Is she moving?” I asked, noting the twinkle in Marigold’s eye.

She clapped once. “Let’s just say I have a hunch. And when she does, please make sure she joins TAP to replace me. She’s got one of those digital jobs no one understands, and she has tons of energy and ideas. She will find her way here. She just needs friends to help her get started.”

“What are you planning?” I asked.

She gave me an innocent smile. “Nothing, dear. And I don’t appreciate what you’re implying.”

I scrutinized her, looking for clues but coming up empty. I didn’t know this woman, but I already felt for her.

“Anyway.” She stood up far faster than I expected based on exhausted she looked. “You should get going. The snow’s picking up, and I’ve got to catch up on my reading. If I don’t finish the book club book, I’ll be the laughingstock at bingo next week.”

Wow. I knew when I was being hustled out, so I stood and collected our teacups, then carried them to the kitchen sink.

Marigold led me to the door, where she threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek.

The woman seemed both impossibly fragile and larger than life all at once. A true dichotomy.

“Please don’t mention my health to anyone. Not even Gabriel. I need to maintain my air of mystery, and we’ve got too much work to do. The last thing I need is people dropping off soup and forcing me to sit at home.”