Page 6 of The Sugar Maple Inn

Reese thought of Grace and her storm warnings. “I’ve been through worse,” he said. “Spent two weeks in a research camp in northern Manitoba when a blizzard knocked out everything electronic for fifty miles. And rode out a typhoon in the Philippines that even had the local guides convinced we were all going to die.” He kept his tone casual, not trying to impress but just stating facts. “Weather’s weather. You prepare for it, respect it, and work with what you’ve got.”

Abe’s expression didn’t soften, but something shifted in his eyes. “Maybe. But respect and a few million dollars don’t mean much when you’re sitting in the dark eating cold beans from a can, wondering if your generator’s gonna hold out another night.”

Reese noticed Grace appear in the distance then with a fresh tray of canapés and a harassed look…always moving, always serving, never still. In his experience, it was those kinds of women who needed to slow down the most when the doors closed and the lights dimmed.

He caught himself imagining it: getting her out of this place that kept her hustling, pressing pause on all the noise. Taking his time with her. Showing her what it felt like to focus on herself for once instead of everybody else…

Abe was still waiting, eyebrows raised like he was timing how long it took Reese to remember what they’d been discussing.

Right. The inn. Convincing a skeptical old soldier that he wasn’t just another rich guy with too much money and too little sense. Except with that pink-haired waitress getting closer and closer, he was finding it difficult to form words.

“I’ve got an idea,” Mabel said, bringing him back to his senses. “How about we get Reese to prove himself the Solace Springs way?”

Abe considered it then nodded. “Don’t see why not.”

Reese dragged his eyes away from Grace as she walked back inside, and looked at Mabel and Abe. “And what way is that?”

“Harvest Festival’s tonight,” Abe said. “The whole town’ll be there. We’ll put you to the test. Give you a chance to show the folks here you’re more than headlines and money. Prove you can get your hands dirty like the rest of us.”

Reese felt the corner of his mouth tug. A challenge. That, at least, he understood.

And maybe it would give him the chance to see Grace when she wasn’t dodging between tables with a tray in her hands…see who she was when the apron came off and the town let its guard down.

“Sure. Count me in,” he said. He felt his phone ping in his pocket with the distinctive notification tone he’d allocated to Reddit notifications. “Excuse me a moment.”

He strolled off to a quiet corner and checked to see it was a message from his mentee, AutumnDreams87. For three months now, AutumnDreams87 had been his late-night constant. It had started simple: her posting in the subreddit asking for advice. He’d chimed in the way he did for dozens of other people, giving back anonymously to people like he’d once been. But something about her messages kept him replying. Direct. Funny. A little too hard on herself but always game to learn. They’d shifted to DMs and before he knew it, it wasn’t just business. It was music recommendations and jokes at two in the morning when neither of them could sleep.

He read her new message:

AutumnDreams87: Hey, you there? I could really use some advice right now.

WildTrailGuide: I’m here. What’s going on?

AutumnDreams87: So turns out I’m not the only one interested in the garden center. There’s this woman. Deep pockets and apparently zero understanding of what this place actually means. She’s treating it like just another investment property.

WildTrailGuide: That’s rough. But you’ve got something this hoser doesn’t: knowledge of the place, connections, understanding of what it needs. Use that.

AutumnDreams87: Hoser?

WildTrailGuide: Canadian for “idiot.” Comes from hockey, when the losing team used to have to hose down the ice.

AutumnDreams87: Oh right, clever. Thing is, she’s not an idiot, plus she can throw money at the problem until it goes away. Or until I go away, more like. I don’t know. Maybe I’m in over my head. Maybe I should just accept that people like her always win.

Something tightened in Reese’s chest reading that. The defeat in her words, the way she saw herself as less-than before the fight had even really started.

WildTrailGuide: Stop that right now.

He was typing fast now, not even thinking about it.

WildTrailGuide: You’re not in over your head. You’re up against someone who thinks money solves everything. That’s actually an advantage.

AutumnDreams87: How so?

WildTrailGuide: Folks like that get comfy. Figure the checkbook does the talking. You? You’ve got relationships, history, street smarts she can’t buy.

AutumnDreams87: “Folks like that”? You’re a “folk like that.” Multi-business owner, remember?

WildTrailGuide: Fair point. But I started with nothing, eh? Grew up in a town where if you wanted something, you had to scrap for it. Still do. Money’s just a tool. It’s not the whole toolkit. This garden center. Do you want it bad enough to fight dirty?