Page 1 of Ella and the Enchanted Bookshop

1

A Birthday Book

Ilogged into my college dashboard on my laptop, my heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings as I waited for it to load. Birds chirped in the trees around me as a pleasant breeze blew through their branches, making them whisper as though to remind the residents of Buchkarte that autumn had arrived.

But at that moment, I wasn’t interested in autumn’s arrival. I was just trying to see my semester grade.

“Please be good! Please be good!” I whispered, as though I were the only one on my community college campus and not surrounded by people making their way to and from class. But when the numbers finally appeared on the screen, my heart plummeted into my stomach.

I’d gotten a B. Not an almost-there high B. Not even a middle-of-the-eighties B. But a low B. An above-passing-but-barely B.

My phone buzzed, and I answered without glancing at the screen. “Hello?”

“Well,” my cousin chirped, “I was going to wish you a happy birthday. But I can tell something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Hi, Amanda.” I closed my laptop and put it in my backpack before zipping it up and starting toward home. “I got a B in Business 101.”

“So? Isn’t a B above average?”

“What’s wrong is that I could have done better. Easily. But Casey kept me busy all of finals week running a camp that she was supposed to run.”

“Did you tell her it was your finals week?” my cousin pressed.

“I did. But she didn’t care.” I kicked a rock with my boot as I walked. Usually, I enjoyed the wooded trail that led from the campus to the main street of Buchkarte. It was almost like taking a short hike surrounded by pine trees and tiny woodland creatures that liked to beg for Cheetos. But today, I just wanted my walk of shame to end.

Amanda huffed. “Ella, we’ve been through this a million times.” And then, as I’d known she would, she launched into her usual guilt trip, reminding me that if I just ignored my stepmother’s ridiculous commands, she would make my stepsister do it instead.

Amanda meant well. But she didn’t know Casey the way I did. For one, she seemed to think that Casey actually cared about the horses that lived on my parents’ ranch.

Casey did not care about the horses. Casey didn’t even like horses.

Two, Casey hardly ever made Harper do anything.

“Only because it’s your birthday and because I need to head home will I go easy on you this time,” Amanda finally said after pausing for breath.

I gave my phone a wry grin. “You’re too kind.”

“Shut up. Look, I want to take you out tonight. There’s a new restaurant that just opened up on Main. And also, I know that tyrant of yours isn’t going to do anything to celebrate.”

A fierce longing welled up within me. After the rotten day I’d just had, I needed a night out with my cousin. But then reality came crashing down, and I sighed. “I wish I could. But tonight’s the last night of the seniors’ riding camp, and Casey should be just getting back from her business trip. She won’t want to run it on her own after I’ve run it all week.”

“Well, if you’re going to be that way, then fine. Do your stepmother’s stupid camp tonight. But we are going out sometime. I’m holding you to it.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Definitely. Thanks, Amanda. You’re the best.”

After hanging up, however, the desire to celebrate my birthday in some capacity tugged at my heart. And while I did have to be back at the ranch for the riding camp I was coaching by six… there was time to swing by my favorite place on the way home. I could celebrate my birthday in one way, at least.

The walk to the bookstore was a pleasant one. Then again, almost all of Buchkarte’s walks were enjoyable. The town was large enough to have a little of everything, but small enough that I knew many of the residents and could walk its diameter in under an hour. There wasn’t much space for the town to grow any more in that section of the Colorado mountains. Which meant real estate was expensive, and competition for outsiders who wanted to move in was steep.

But then again, anyone who had ever visited could see why. The streets were clean and cheerful. The town’s welcoming committee always had banners and wreaths hung from all the light poles and other city decor for this holiday or that. Heck, the town had its own holiday–Book Day–which took place once a season.

Was it random? Yes.

Was it started by the local bookstore owner? Also yes.

But everyone loved it. The tradition was that everyone bought a new book that day, whether new from the bookstore or used from a friend or second-hand store and then read it while eating cake.

Why cake? I hadn’t the slightest idea. But no one complained because who didn’t love books and cake?