Page 2 of Ella and the Enchanted Bookshop

Unfortunately, it was not Book Day. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t celebrate my birthday the way I wanted. Taking a deep breath of the piney breeze, I watched as orange, red, yellow, and brown leaves floated past me down the street. Several times people called out greetings as I walked, and I waved in response to this cafe manager or that shop owner. That was one of the best parts of growing up in Buchkarte. I knew almost everyone. And almost everyone knew me.

Unfortunately, however, that meant they also knew my family situation as well.

Still, I was determined not to think about all the work that was ready for me when I got home. Instead, I soaked in the deliciously cool breeze of the early autumn day, and a few minutes later, when I rounded the corner to the elm-lined street I loved so much, I was smiling once again.

And if I hadn’t been smiling already, the sight that was waiting for me would have done the trick.

The bookstore, Enchanted Endings, had once been a house. It was Craftsman style with blue siding, white trim, and swirling gable decorations. As she always did this time of year, its owner, Margaret, had several rocking chairs out on the raised porch, and they were surrounded by countless pumpkins of all colors and sizes, flameless candles, and the railings were wrapped with twinkling orange and white lights. Several tiny bookshelves also sat on the porch behind the rocking chairs, where readers could lose themselves for a few hours at a time.

Halfway up the steps, I stopped and studied the porch, wondering how the shelves and the books inside them stayed so clean despite being outside in the wind all the time. As always, however, they were neither wet nor dirty, but perfectly pristine.

I walked inside and stopped in the center of the entrance, inhaling deeply and greedily drinking in the scents of paper, wood, cinnamon, and coffee. The paper and wood smells, of course, came from the books, shelves, and floors, but the cinnamon and coffee scents emanated from the tiny little kitchen at the back of the shop where readers could order their favorite drinks and baked goods as they browsed.

Despite having grown up visiting this bookstore, it never ceased to amaze me how many books had been squeezed inside without making it feel cluttered or cramped. The walls were covered with a wallpaper that featured massive flowers, making the books look somewhat as though they were hidden beneath a giant’s garden. Several chairs and love seats were scattered about, and as the late afternoon light cast a perfect golden glow through the windows, the effect was magical.

“Hey, Ella!”

I turned to see Belle, the store’s only employee, standing behind the kitchen counter. She had removed a sheet of sugar cookies from the oven and was giving them a thorough inspection.

I smiled and went to join her. “Those smell delicious.”

“I hope so. I used the rest of the sugar on them.” Belle continued to study her creations. Then she smiled up at me. “Did you want to order something?”

“I think today I’m going to splurge and order my first iced pumpkin latte of the season,” I said, looking up at the little menu above the counter.

“Ooh, quite the splurge.” Belle grinned. “What’s the occasion?”

I gave her a somewhat embarrassed smile. “My birthday.”

Belle straightened. “Well, then, you won’t be splurging at all. It’s on the house.” And she turned and began gathering the ingredients to make my drink.

“You really don’t have to,” I added, but I was drowned out by the sound of the machine she was already mixing liquids in.

“Nope,” Belle said, shaking her head. “If Margaret finds out that I charged you for a drink on your birthday, I’ll be in trouble.”

“She’s right, you know,” called another voice. I turned to find a woman with snow white hair coming to stand beside me.

Margaret was slightly taller than me, and from what I had been told, she was even taller in her youth. And goodness, did she give the best hugs. But now she was frowning at me as though I’d done something wrong, tapping her glasses the way she always did when she was agitated.

“Belle,” she called to her employee as she studied me with a furrowed brow. “Get Ella’s cupcake from the fridge. I placed it there this morning.”

“I was wondering what that was for,” Belle laughed.

But I just blinked. “You… know my birthday?”

Margaret snorted and waved me off. “You’ve been in here on your birthday every year since you were three. Of course I know your birthday!” She pursed her lips. “I also happen to know that that stepmother of yours won’t bother to get you a cake.”

A few years ago, an announcement like this would have embarrassed and bothered me to no end. But the town knew who and what my stepmother was, and I’d eventually realized that the sooner I acknowledged that truth, the better off I would be.

“Well, then,” I said, smiling as Belle handed me my drink and cupcake, “since I was gifted the drink and cake, I shall buy myself a birthday book as well!”

As I said the words, the thought cheered me even more. In the few moments I had to read, I generally chose books from the library. But to walk out of Enchanted Endings with a book in my hand would provide waves of happiness for days to come. I hadn’t planned on having enough money for a drink and a book, but since Margaret was supplying the drink, I supposed I could splurge on the book as well.

“We have a few new regencies in the front.” Belle leaned over the counter to point. “Just in front of the register. It’s from that new author I told you to try.”

The little bell over the door jingled, and we all looked up as a young man in military camouflage with heavy tan boots walked in. He had deep brown eyes, and his build was lean yet strong. He was a good head taller than me, and his hair, which was cut short, was a light brown. He’d removed his hat upon entering and held it in his hands now as he looked around.

Belle and I stood rather dumbstruck, but Margaret only squealed and ran toward him, throwing her arms around him in a big hug. The young man laughed and hugged her back.