Page 8 of Ella and the Enchanted Bookshop

She wanted to buy another horse? We could barely feed the ones we had. Was the woman insane? Of course, I kept these thoughts to myself.

“Oh, and don’t forget. You’ll be doing pony rides tomorrow at the farmers market while Jaelyne and I pass out fliers. So you’ve got to have the horses up and in the trailer by seven.” And with that, she walked out.

Of course. The farmers market. How had I forgotten?

The farmers market the town held in the summer was often too hot for horses, so we didn’t attend. But tomorrow was the beginning of the seasonal autumn market, which would last for about six weeks, and it was one of our best events all year. Which meant I couldn’t lose any more sleep than I already had.

Carefully, I put Miss Margaret’s book inside the drawer of my bedside table so Jaelyne couldn’t spill anything on it if she came to hang out in my room. I would apparently have to solve the mystery of the two-page fairy tale another day.

4

The Autumn Market

Waking up the next morning was hard. Really hard. But I willed myself to crawl out of bed the second time my alarm went off–largely because I liked the farmers market. Still, I thought with a hint of bitterness as I searched for my jeans in the dark, I wished I could just sleep in once in a while. I hadn’t slept in since the winter before, when I’d had the stomach flu.

After pouring myself a really bad cup of coffee and dumping way too much creamer inside to compensate, I loaded up the horses into our best trailer and set out for the city fairgrounds.

The fairgrounds were in the lower part of the city, rather than on either of the mountainsides where many of the locals lived. Placing it there, between the two mountains, allowed for flatter terrain for the tents, stalls, and stages that were needed for large events. I got there just before the sun began to rise, but I was hardly the earliest vendor up. I could already see the local bakery’s stall, several coffee shops, and even Miss Margaret and Belle across the field. And because fall had officially arrived, there was a pumpkin patch and several staged photo sets scattered all around the square.

After realizing that I was starving, I pulled a protein bar out of my pocket and noshed on it as I set up the tent and the folded table beneath it. After that, I put up the temporary railings to create a small arena. Then, just as the sun was peaking over the edge of the mountain to the east and I was leading the horses out of the trailer, Casey, Harper, and Jaelyne arrived with coffee and croissants.

“We’ll be back soon,” Casey said. She handed me a croissant. “I parked the car in the wrong place and need to fix it.”

“I had to go to the bathroom,” Jaelyne said.

“That’s okay.” I poked her playfully. “You’ll just have to saddle the horses for me to make up for being late!”

“Oh.” Jaelyne’s face fell. “There was a stall I wanted to see first.”

“I could really use some help,” I said, focusing my gaze on the younger girl. Trying to make eye contact with Harper was like mining for diamonds in a sandbox. I’d given up long ago. “I’ve done all this on my own this morning, and I need to use the bathroom now too.”

“Oh, just a few minutes?” Jaelyne pleaded. “It’s the tiara stall, and they have a new one I need to look at!”

“Come on, then,” Casey said. She hadn’t looked up from her phone since they’d arrived. And without another word to me, she herded her daughters away from our stall.

I should have known better, but I watched them go with a sigh. I really did have to go to the bathroom. My first coffee was swishing around in my bladder, and knowing Casey, she would find someone she knew and get caught up in conversation for at least forty-five minutes.

“Please make it quick!” I called after them. But none gave any sign that they had heard.

With another sigh, I retreated to the horses, who were standing obediently by the stake I’d tied them to. A determined horse could have pulled the stake up easily, but we never took the spicy horses to farmers markets. Instead, we used the horses that would never run, even if given the chance. Today, I’d brought Caramel, a buckskin Quarter Horse that had been spicy years ago, but had mellowed in his old age. And then there was Nevada, my own horse that my parents had given to me the day she was born. Nevada was a roan Quarter Horse, and she loved kids.

I would have spent more time admiring my beautiful horses in the light of the rising sun, however, if I wasn’t wondering when I would get the chance to run. And with a sigh, I had begun to saddle Nevada when a familiar voice called my name.

“Ella! Good morning!”

I turned to find Miss Margaret’s handsome godson, Asher, approaching me. Instead of his uniform, this time, he was wearing cargo shorts, a solid blue T-shirt, flip-flops, and a pair of aviators–all of which somehow made him look casual and put together at the same time. His hair, which was neatly combed, gave him an almost rebellious look.

Almost.

“Oh! Hi!” I quickly wondered just how much dirt my clothes and boots had accumulated since waking up that morning. But it was too late to check now. So I just smiled and prayed it wasn’t too much.

“I didn’t know you’d be here today,” he said, coming to a stop in front of our stall. “Miss Margaret said it would be largely for vendors with food or toys.”

“My parents–I mean, my family has owned Crystal Creek Ranch since just after my parents got married,” I said, unable to help smiling back. “We come most Saturdays to give pony rides and offer boarding or lessons.”

“Where’s your family?” he asked, looking around.

I shrugged. “They’ll be here.”