After Lindsay and Travis’s joint taste testing of her brand-new wedding items (which she’d secretly named her “punch-throwing menu”) of mini steak-and-ale pasties with thyme mustard, smoked salmon tea sandwiches, three-cheese gougères, and the new beer bread with cheddar-chive butter, she thought she’d won Travis over. All right, not completely, because Finn hit all of Travis’s nostalgia notes, but enough to impress the guy.
And that should have made her feel excited.
But then, near the end of the testing, Travis mentioned wanting “the best of both worlds” and jested about how this could “only be decided by a cook-off.”
The atmosphere in the room instantly changed.
Travis had looked at Lindsay.
Lindsay had looked at Rosemary.
They all had exchanged a look.
A slow, knowing,scheminglook.
Daphne’s stomach dropped like someone had just canceled her access to the whole season ofThe Great British Bake Off.
Which Rosemary only made worse by smiling, waving, and floating out the front door with an ominously chipper,“I feel really good about this, Daph.”
Daphne groaned.
Why couldn’t the choice between caterers just be plain and simple? Her lips twitched.Her.
With a sigh and a glance heavenward—inviting an answer from Gran or God, whoever was quicker—she grabbed her watering can and stepped outside. Across the street, bright banners for Wisteria’s Harvest Festival fluttered on the breeze: Wednesday through Sunday! The kickoff dinner and dance were less than a week away.
The festival was one of the busiest times of year in Wisteria, great for business and a delightful way to showcase the culture, the mountains,and how much the people of this town loved one another. With a deep breath of the afternoon air, Daphne watered the happy yellow mums she’d placed in her window box in time for the weekend. She loved fall in the Blue Ridge. The mountains wore a quilt of color, and the cooler weather gave her every excuse to pull out her favorite sweaters and fuzzy socks. Mums, crisp breezes, pumpkin spice, corduroy skirts with knee-high socks.
Daphne breathed in the scent of leaves and fresh bread—Finn’s, no doubt.
Tomorrow was his grand opening.
She wasn’t sure if she was going.
But Jack worked there. And she did believe in supporting local businesses.
And, well... her gaze flicked toward Finn’s restaurant.
It didn’t hurt to keep an eye on the competition.
Warmth skirted up her neck and into her cheeks. It didn’t have anything to do with actually being interested in Finn. She was only interested in how her dishes compared to his.
The roar of an engine pulled Daphne’s attention away from her mums just as the screech of the school bus’s brakes slowed the yellow mass to a stop in front of the shop.
Oh, right. It was Lucy’s first day of school!
Daphne took a few steps toward the bus as a dark head emerged from the doors, her little body almost too small for those gigantic steps as she exited.
But instead of the bright smile Daphne expected, the girl’s green eyes were wide and tearful.
And then she ran.
Full tilt into Daphne’s stomach.
“Oh, honey.” Daphne dropped to her knees and wrapped her in a hug. “What happened?”
Sniffles erupted in response, along with something mumbled into Daphne’s cardigan.
Daphne looked instinctively toward Finn’s shop—no sign of him. He was probably slammed with prep.
