“No problem.” He fished a card from the dashboard and handed it over. “Call my cell if you need a ride. No charge.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“It’s what we do. Welcome to Brim's Hollow, Ms. Baxter.”
Honey hesitated. The neatly trimmed white beard and short-sleeved button-down gave Percy a calm, grandfatherly presence.
A worn canvas mailbag sat in the passenger seat beside him. Recognition clicked.
“You’re the mailman,” she said softly.
“Guilty as charged.” He chuckled. “Name’s Bloom. Percy Bloom. But you can call me Poppy like everyone else does.”
She glanced down at the business card—plain, sturdy cardstock, with his name, number, and a little hand-drawn stamp of a smiling envelope in the corner.
“Thank you,” she said, and meant it.
Honey watched him go, the gravel crunching under his tires, then turned back toward Emma. “Let me be clear. I am here to do a job. There is absolutely no way I can allowyou to be granted unauthorized wishes any longer. So, my presence here will not save your orchard or your family.”
“Right,” Emma nodded, her shoulders slumping.
Honey exhaled sharply through her nose. It was the right thing to say. The boundary was important. Necessary. And yet…
She sighed and dropped the sharpness from her tone. “But I am very good at systems. And I will speak to your father about this mess. But it is not for children to worry about.”
The sound of an approaching vehicle caught her ear, and Honey turned toward the driveway expecting to see Mr. Bloom again but instead, a battered brown pickup with signage forBob’s Collections & Seizurescame to a stop. A man in a wrinkled T-shirt and reflective vest stepped out, clutching a clipboard and a grim expression.
“Oh, for goodness sake.” Honey pinched the bridge of her nose. “Stay here,” she told Emma, before striding toward the truck. “Can I help you, Mr…?”
“Seth,” he said without looking up from his clipboard. “Repossession order. This here’s a formal seizure notice on the MAJA Classic.”
“The what?”
“It’s a tree shaker, ma’am.”
Honey took the paperwork he offered her and flipped through, brow furrowing. It was all technically in order. “Thank you,” she said, keeping her voice pleasant but firm. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to request an extension.”
“No can do.” The man said, taking the clipboard back from Honey and tossing it into the back of his truck. “We’ve already delayed three times.”
Honey managed a tight smile. “Very well.”
She walked back to Emma who was chewing her nail again. “What’s that?—”
Honey held a hand to stop her. “Never mind. Tell me when the trouble started.”
“We all knew about the well.” Emma began, eyes darting over Honey’s shoulder to the man. “Mom used to talk about it all the time. Then one day, after Mom was taken, I overheard about a spotted lanternfly infestation and I wished for the trees to be pest free and the next day they were.”
Honey raised her brows but held her tongue.
Emma hurried to explain. “I didn’t mean to get carried away. But it worked. So I started doing more. Delaying frosts until we could get the trees covered. Wishing for cloud cover so we had time to get the apples sun screened. I never wished for anything selfish! I just…I kept us going.”
“Please don’t arrest me.” She finally looked at Honey, cheeks red. “It’s not like I was trying to abuse it. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
A mechanical clanging sounded, and both Honey and Emma whipped their heads toward where Seth was hooking up some monstrous looking mechanical farm equipment to his truck.
“Wait? He’s taking the shaker?” Emma called, moving past Honey.
“You can’t!” Her voice wobbled. “We need it to harvest the peaches. Oh god, and the cherries. I didn’t mean to—he can’t justtakeit!”
