Page 57 of Forbidden to Fall

May muttered something about bullying but accepted the arm I offered for the short walk to the living room.

For the next hour, we discussed packaging for the baked goods, sipping on tea and eating biscuits. I wanted to be sure the packaging reflected Carver Farm, while May insisted I was the mastermind behind it all and should have full control over the presentation.

She was a stubborn woman, but eventually, I coaxed enough of a vision from her to work off of. She insisted on ordering the base components, while I agreed to make the logo and have the stickers printed on a rush order.

I’d promised a couple of businesses to get them product by the end of this week, which would just barely be possible if I got the stickers ordered tonight. The Harvest Festival was in less than two weeks, which was where we’d have the best opportunity for sales. The farm would be accepting their first tours of the season soon, as well. May insisted she would be recovered enough to lead them, but James and I shared a skeptical glance that she missed while she poured herself more tea.

I headed down to the sugar shack afterward, feeling a combination of exhaustion and anticipation for the coming weeks. Today, I was making more maple blondies, but I’d be trying a couple different syrup variations to see which worked best.

I whipped up three different batches and got them in the oven, then looked over the mess I’d made. I needed a minute before attacking the dirty dishes, so I sat down at the table, chin on my hand, and googled some logos for inspiration.

“Sadie.”

I stirred, then winced at a pain in my neck.

“Sadie.”

My eyelids felt like they’d been turned into sandbags, but I forced them to lift, revealing nothing but blobs of blurriness. There was warmth on my back, and it lowered slightly as my eyes began to focus.

James’s fuzzy face hovered in my vision, sending a jolt of surprise through me that seemed to lift the sandbags and clear my vision.

“You dozed off,” he said, looking at me with a little furrow on his brow.

I raised my head, my eyes scanning the room to make sense of where I was, but my bangs obscured my vision.

James swept them off my forehead with a gentle brush of his fingers.

I stared at him in surprise, my pulse somersaulting even in my half-conscious state.

He looked almost as surprised as me, then stood.

The warmth on my back disappeared, and I realized it had been his hand.

I looked around at my surroundings. I was in the sugar shack kitchen.

I breathed in and cringed at the acrid smell.

And then it hit me.

I jolted to my feet.

“I took them out,” James said as I went over to the oven.

Beside it were three pans of maple bars that looked more like brownies, dark and charred.

I let my head fall back and shut my eyes. “Ugh.”

“Sadie.”

I breathed out and turned to look at him.

The same concern was in his eyes and etched on his brow. “You need a break.”

“I just took one,” I said, gesturing at my spot at the table. My phone was upside down. I must have dozed off while looking at logos.

“A real break. How much sleep have you been getting?”

I turned and looked at the results of my labors. “About three charred trays of maple bars worth.”