Page 67 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Robyn’s posture shifted instantly into bookstore-professional mode. “Yes,” she said carefully. “How can I help you?”

The women squealed—actually squealed—then surged forward as if restraint was no longer possible. Mr. Darcy, startled by the noise, leapt off the counter and stalked toward the back of the store with his tail high and offended, as though fame was beneath him.

“Oh my God,” one blurted. “I’m your biggest fan.”

“No,” another cut in immediately, “I’m her biggest fan.”

The third shoved her way forward with a Sharpie and a thick stack of printed pages, eyes shining like she might cry. “Don’t listen to them,” she said, then held the Sharpie out with both hands like an offering. “I’ve been following your stories for three years. I love them. They’re so swoony and cozy and… and they got me through a really bad break-up.” Her voice wobbled, then steadied. “Could you please sign this for me?”

“And me!” one of the others said, thrusting forward her own printed manuscript, already dog-eared and highlighted like it had been studied.

“And me,” the first added, holding out a marker as if Robyn might vanish if she didn’t hurry.

Tyler stood a step back and watched Robyn’s face.

She smiled. She took the Sharpie. She said the right things—warm, polite. She signed names and posed for selfies while the women babbled about favorite scenes and lines that made them laugh and moments that made them cry.

But Tyler could see the tightness around her eyes, the way her smile didn’t quite reach all the way, and the way her fingers trembled slightly when she handed a signed stack back.

Her private Maple Falls world had just been punctured by reality in a way you couldn’t undo.

It was one thing to know the internet had found her.

It was another thing to watch it walk through the front door with Sharpies and fandom joy and proof that there really was no going back to being anonymous.

Tyler stayed where he was, letting her handle it, but he couldn’t stop wondering: Would the attention scare her away from Maple Falls, or pull her closer to it?

THIRTY-ONE

ROBYN

Robyn had barely waved goodbye to her trio of adoring fans when she looked up and saw Emily walking down the sidewalk toward her. She was hard to miss with her bright orange apron tied at her waist, blonde hair twisted into its usual slipknot, flour dusted across the front.

“They were gushing about you,” Emily said, while Robyn held open the door. “Like, straight-up, hardcore fangirling.”

Robyn let out a quiet laugh that didn’t quite feel genuine. “I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

Because it was… a lot.

Part of her was thrilled at the idea that her words could matter to people that much.

And the other part of her wanted to pull Maple Falls over her head like a quilt and go back to being anonymous. Back to quiet mornings and her pen name and the comforting separation between Robyn-the-person and AfterHoursAuthor-the-secret-identity.

It felt like standing in two worlds at once, trying not to tilt too far in either direction.

They joined Tyler at the front counter.

“I’m so happy you’re both here.” Emily clapped her hands. “I think I found a lead.”

Robyn straightened. “A lead? Where?”

Emily’s expression turned apologetic. “Don’t judge. I should’ve realized it earlier.”

“Why would we judge you?” Robyn looked to Tyler. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Years ago, when my nana still ran the bakery, she had a wood-fired stove. Huge thing. Cast iron. Built right into the back wall. It hasn’t been used since Mrs. Myers’ time. I moved a shelving unit in front of it years ago and just…forgot about it.”

Robyn blinked. “Are you telling me there’s been a wood-fired stove in your bakery this whole time?”