Ruby
I wiped down the wooden counter of my booth, arranging the muffins and scones in neat rows. Market day was my favorite—the town square buzzing with life, neighbors catching up, children weaving between stalls with sticky fingers and bright laughter.
"Ruby!" Lula waved from across the way, her round face flushed from the morning heat. She hurried over with Buck trailing behind, hands tucked in his overall pockets.
"Morning, you two." I grinned. "How's the farm?"
"Busy as ever," Buck said, pride threading through his voice. "Got the contract finalized yesterday."
My eyes lit up. "The restaurant? Really?"
"Really." Lula beamed. "We're going to be one of the main suppliers."
"That's wonderful!" I gushed. "You deserve it. Your vegetables are the best." I’d said the same to Chef Pearl, and thankfully she’d listened.
A booming voice interrupted. "Ruby! There's my favorite baker!"
Bartholomeus strode up, his kids bouncing around him like puppies.
"Bartholomeus." I smiled warmly. "Let me guess—you're here for the apple turnovers?"
"You know me too well." He leaned against my booth. "But actually, I came to ask a favor. We're heading down to the pond to fish. Mind if Teddy tags along? I've got plenty of extra poles."
I glanced at my son, currently slumped on a stool behind my booth, dragging a stick through the dirt with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner counting days on a cell wall.
"Teddy!" I called. "Want to go fishing with Mr. Bartholomeus?"
His head snapped up, eyes suddenly bright. "Really? Can I?"
I looked back at Bartholomeus. "You sure? He can be a handful."
"Ruby, I've got two of my own. One more won't make a difference." He grinned. "Besides, the boy looks like he's about to die of boredom."
I laughed. "You're not wrong." Turning to Teddy, I said, "Go on, then. But you listen to Mr. Bartholomeus, you hear?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Teddy scrambled up, nearly knocking over his stool.
"We'll have him back before supper," Bartholomeus promised, ruffling Teddy's hair as my boy joined his kids.
I watched them go, my heart full. This town, these people—they'd become my family. After everything I'd been through, I'd found a place where Teddy and I belonged.
Mrs. Chance was examining my honey tarts, holding one up to the light. "This is the clover honey, yes?"
"Yes, ma'am. Fresh from last week's harvest at Buck and Lula's farm." I wrapped her selection in brown paper, taking her coins with a smile.
"They won't make me fat, will they?" She teased, one thin brow arching.
"Don't you know calories don't count on market day?" I replied with a laugh.
That's when I felt it—a prickle of awareness on the back of my neck, like someone's eyes boring into me. My stomach dropped. Please don't be Craig.
Craig was sweet. Really, he was. A good man, a wonderful peacekeeper, always polite and kind to Teddy and me. But after our last date a couple of nights ago, when he'd tried to pull me close and kiss me like we were something serious, I'd felt nothing but wrongness. His hands on my waist, his breath on my face—it had made my skin crawl in a way I couldn't explain to him. Or to myself.
I handed Mrs. Chance her change and forced myself to turn around casually, like I was just surveying the market.
My breath caught.
It wasn't Craig.
