Her brain was still stuck back in that greenhouse. On Jackson.
That kiss.
She could still feel the press of his mouth against hers, the roughness of his stubble grazing her skin, the warmth of his hands at her hips. It was only supposed to be for Beth’s benefit, but there’d been nothing fake about the way her pulse had gone haywire.
“Boundaries, Zoe,” she muttered to herself, clutching the steering wheel tighter. “You’re supposed to be pretending, not…yearning.”
But her traitorous brain didn’t listen. It kept looping the moment on repeat, analyzing it from every angle. The look in his eyes before he leaned in. The way he’d hesitated, as if fighting it, then he’d kissed her anyway.
Had she leaned in too much? Tilted her head wrong? Good grief, had she made a noise?
“Smooth, Zoe.” She sighed, taking the corner too fast and nearly clipping a mailbox.
By the time she pulled into the alley behind the Cherry Crush Flower Shop, she’d talked herself into three different versions of what the kiss might have meant and accomplished exactly nothing except making herself more confused.
Thankfully, Mrs. Bishop was in no hurry to head home, and she continued working the register, leaving Zoe free to fuss with her flower arrangements in the back, far away from anyone who might witness her scatterbrained state.
“Where are those scissors?” she muttered, pushing aside the cellophane she was using to wrap a bouquet.
Once she found the scissors, she couldn’t find the twine. Then the fresh-cut flower food. She was misplacing everything.
Whiskers chirped an admonishing meow.
“I know.” Zoe sighed. “I need to just wrap these arrangements up and be done for the day.”
There was no use working overtime, especially with everything on her mind. It wasn’t just Jackson and the Spring Fling, but Edith’s upcoming wedding and the mystery flowers.
It felt like they’d reached a dead end. The trails Mrs. C. referenced didn’t exist anymore. Or at least they weren’t known by the same names. And there weren’t any magical blue flowers by the old bridge Mrs. Alders had referenced.
Still, that didn’t mean the Moonlight Kisses weren’t out there. She was just going to have to look harder. Maple Falls had trails everywhere including around the lake, through the woods, even some that wound up into the foothills. There weren’t exactly snowcapped mountains nearby, but there were overlooks that made you feel like you were on top of the world, gazing out over the lake and patchwork of towns below.
That evening, back upstairs, Zoe was determined to focus on finding the Moonlight Kiss and not analyzing her love life. She poured herself a cup of lemon balm tea and gave Whiskers some kibble to keep her content before spreading out the books from the library on her dining room table.
Zoe stood over them, mug of tea in hand. She blew over the rim before taking a sip and opening the first book. She skimmed the town’s history, starting with how it began as a lumbering settlement in the 1830s, thanks to its waterways and surrounding rich forests. In the early days, the town had been careful to preserve the area’s flora and fauna, but that started to fall by the wayside as the town grew and the need for housing, community buildings, and goods increased.
Zoe smiled softly. She loved this part of Maple Falls: the way its past still lingered beneath the surface. The names of the old families on street signs. The oak trees that had been standing since before her great-grandmother’s time.
She turned the page and took a closer look at one of the early settlements. It was a log cabin surrounded by open prairie. The photo was in black and white, but if Zoe leaned close enough, she could’ve sworn there was a picture of the flowers Edith had been talking about. They were certainly the right shape.
Zoe tapped her pencil on the side of the notebook. Unfortunately, there was no way to know where the log cabin had been located, and chances were pretty slim that there was still a prairie surrounding it.
She turned the page and took another sip of her tea. Whiskers took that as her invitation to jump up on the table and pad over to the stack of books, circling twice before plopping down right across them.
“Will you stop that? I’m trying to read here.”
Whiskers blinked slowly, the very picture of innocence, before rolling onto her back with a little chirrup. She stretched her paws out wide, belly exposed, tail swishing against Zoe’s mug.
Zoe knew it was a trap. As soon as she rubbed the soft fur, Whiskers would latch onto her arm and playfully bite her wrist. It was just what she did.
“I’m not falling for it,” Zoe said, lifting Whiskers up and setting her on the chair beside her. “I don’t know, little miss. We might have to lay off all the treats. You’re getting heavy.”
Whiskers let out a disgruntled mrrp and batted at the nearest book. Her claws caught on the cover. The book hit the dining room rug with a thump.
“Hey now. You can’t go ruining the library books because I said you need to go on a diet.”
It was then Zoe’s gaze caught on something peeking from the back of the old guidebook on the floor. She tugged it free—and stilled. A folded map, edges yellowed and fragile with age.
Unfolding it carefully, she realized it wasn’t just any map. It detailed Maple Falls as it had been in 1910. She peered closer. The streets were fewer, the forests wider, and whole swaths of prairie and farmland were now long gone. Trails curled along the lake, and faint ink marks hinted at paths she didn’t recognize at all.
