Page 67 of Once Upon a Fall

“It’s not something I like to share. The loan was risky and stupid. At the time, I figured I would easily get enough bookings during the festival and leaf-peeping season, and it would be covered. And now, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“What’s left to do?”

She wipes her face with the back of her wrist. “Snow White needs baseboards, trim, and a bathroom. Beauty and the Beast hasn’t even been started yet, and that room still needs some drywall, but Dominic hasn’t been able to get to it because it’s been holding all the furniture.”

“Okay, so—”

“And then there’s the festival,” she says, cutting me off. “That list is so long, I’m not even sure where to begin. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it all.”

She’s listing everything as if she has to do it alone. Of course she is. Rosie will give anyone whatever they ask for, but she’d never assume someone else would do the same for her.

Her voice starts to shake again, and something in my chest tightens. I reach for her, taking her face gently in my hands and turning her toward me.

“Rosie, you have me.”

She lets out a shaky breath, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks.

“But I don’t, though.”

I pinch my brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re leaving. I can’t monopolize all of your time. You have your own things to do.”

I shake my head. “I can’t even do anything until the raccoons are gone. I’m here to help. Whatever you need me for.”

“Until you leave.”

“Right,” I tell her.

It’s the truth. I have a contract in Manhattan, a farm I still don’t feel settled about, and a life that has never required me to stay anywhere for very long.

She pulls back, moving out of my arms. “Then we can’t, or maybe we probably shouldn’t—” She stops herself. “I don’t even know how to finish that.”

I nod, understanding what she’s trying to say: What we’ve started can’t keep going.

She’s right, of course. The timing isn’t great. I start work in Manhattan in less than two weeks. After that, there will be another job somewhere else, and another hotel after that. That’s how my life works.

Except, for the first time, I’m not all that excited to get back to it.

“Okay, so then we don’t,” I tell her. It’s the right call.

But I hate saying it. Because what I actually want is the exact opposite.

She nods, giving me a watery smile. “I don’t think we can.”

Neither of us moves for a minute. The room goes quiet except for the faint hum of the light overhead and the occasional creak of the old inn settling around us.

Then we get up from the floor, turn on the lights in the Snow White room, and without another word, get back to work.

Rosie

The princess worried that she had made things awkward. She had.

What do you call a fairy godmother who shows up, takes half your festival problems away, and leaves you with nothing to do but install baseboards and feel guilty about it?

Because that’s what happened.

Juliet Monroe, a.k.a. the mayor’s daughter, showed up at the inn midmorning to see if she could help with the festival. She was ready and willing, had time on her hands, and needed something to do. So, she figured I probably had a lot on my plate with the inn and the festival and offered to take some of it.