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“As ready as this rookie can be,” I say, rolling up my sleeves with determination.
Over the next few hours, we work our way through the day’s baking orders. Trays of muffins and scones for the local coffee shop, bags of chocolate and oatmeal bites for the ski resort, and plenty of stock to fill the bakery shelves.
By 8:00 a.m., Grandma flips the sign to ‘Open’ and customers start trickling in. I’m manning the register when the door chimes and a woman enters holding the hand of a small, bubbly, pigtailed girl.
“Good morning, Lucy,” my grandmother greets warmly, bending down to the little girl’s height. “And who do we have here?”
“This is my niece, Anna,” the woman replies, smiling down at the little girl clutching her hand. “She’s visiting for the week along with her parents and baby brother.”
My grandmother grabs a fresh snickerdoodle cookie from the display case and hands it to Anna with a playful wink. “Well, welcome to our little town, Miss Anna. This one’s on the house.”
Anna’s eyes widen in delight. “Thank you,” she exclaims through a mouthful of cookie.
As Grandma chats with Lucy, I help box up the order, a warmth blooms in my chest that I haven’t felt in years. For the first time in a long time, I feel at home—like I truly belong here.
Yet as soon as the thought crosses my mind, worry sinks in. What will happen to me when it’s time to leave Kentbury and my grandmother behind?
I know she doesn’t really need my help here. This bakery and community are her whole world. Even if my father or brothers came to convince her to move to Boston, she would never agree to leave this place. She has everything she needs right here—her livelihood, caring neighbors, and a cozy home.
I also know my father only cares about Grandma’s properties. He wants to sell them to a developer friend, so they can turn the land into flashy, modern complexes. Hopefully, once he realizes she doesn’t actually own any of the lots he wanted, he’ll quickly lose interest in this quirky small town.
“Everything okay?” my grandmother asks, noticing my pensive expression after Lucy and Anna leave.
“Oh yes, of course,” I assure her. “I just really love how friendly and close-knit everyone is here. Back home, I don’t even know my neighbors’ names, let alone chat with them like old friends. There’s something special about this town.”
My grandmother smiles, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “That’s the magic of Kentbury,” she says with a wink.
I sigh wistfully. “I’m really going to miss it when I have to leave.”
“Who says you have to go anywhere?” my grandmother responds, arching her brow.
I fiddle with a loose thread on my apron. “There’s nothing here for me long term.”
My grandmother clasps my shoulder reassuringly. “Stop worrying about the future, dear, and enjoy right now. You’ll find your place eventually, even if it’s far from Kentbury. Just trust that everything will work out in your favor.”
I nod, though I wish I could share her optimism. She makes it sound so straightforward, but I’ve never felt like I truly belonged anywhere before.
What is it I’m really looking for? And could this quaint little town possibly be the place I finally call home? The questions nag at me as I glance out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Bishop walking down the street. Though we spoke last night about his life, he didn’t mention his schedule.
“You know what you should do?” my grandmother suggests, her eyes lighting up. “Help Hops with the Fall Festival preparations.”
I furrow my brow. “Who’s Hops?”
“That’s Bishop’s nickname around here,” she explains with a chuckle.
The endearment makes me smile. It piques my curiosity so I ask, “Why did you sell him the farm on the condition that he continues the Fall Festival tradition anyway?”
My grandmother smiles fondly. “Because I knew he was the perfect person to take good care of the land, but who’ll also carry on with the tradition. But I think he could really use some extra help this year.” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go over to the orchard after lunch and see if he needs an extra pair of hands?”
I bite my lip warily. “Are you sure you won’t need me here?”
“Oh, nonsense,” she says, waving her hand. “I’ll be just fine, you already helped me with all the baking. Now go on and have some fun and make sure he’s doing exactly what’s needed, so everyone has fun this upcoming weekend.”
My nerves and excitement battle within me, but I can’t fight the pull I feel toward Bishop and his world. I just pray I don’t make a complete fool of myself like I’ve done since the first day we met.
ChapterTen
Bishop
