There were three things Katie Middleton knew with absolute certainty.

Hope appeared in a pink envelope.

Prince charming rode a Harley.

Some secrets were better left unspoken.

Katie relaxed at her favorite table in the bakery—the one directly under the Wishing Wall—and checked items off her bucket list. It was unlike the list most people had with dreams like climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, running a marathon, or writing a book. Her list had the simple things she had never done, like flying a kite, rowing a boat, and baking a muffin.

Katie’s life had been full of wishes for as long as she could remember, most of which had never materialized, so when she got a pink envelope with the deed to a bakery inside, she packed up her stuff and moved from Dallas, Texas, to Aspen Cove, Colorado.

It came as a shock to her family and friends when she disappeared without a word to a location she hadn’t shared. She refused to allow anyone else to have control over her life. Illness had been her jailer—her parents her parole officers. She scribbled the word “independence” at the bottom of her list. Katie knew her happiness would come from within herself. Family was great. Friends were fabulous. But to feel truly independent, she needed to be the helper, not the helped. Wasn’t it ironic that the most generous help she had received came from a stranger? It was a gift that allowed her to bury her past and become her future.

“Why me, Bea?”

Her voice echoed off the walls of the empty bakery. It was a question she’d asked herself countless times over the last seven weeks. Why would a woman whom she’d never met give her a bakery in a town she’d never been to?

Katie flipped to the back of her journal, where a piece of worn pink stationery sat tucked close to the binding. The tri-folded paper had been opened and closed hundreds of times. She’d read every line, looking for clues. There was a list of one hundred reasons Bea gave the bakery to Katie, but not one made sense.

You have a good heart, it began, but how did she know? That might have been the biggest clue because it sat at the number one position, but it didn’t lead Katie to anything conclusive. You’re a good person was the second entry. Although Katie tried to give more than she took, she didn’t consider herself any more deserving than the next person. She’d logged hundreds of volunteer hours in the pediatric cardiac unit in Dallas, but it never felt like work, and she didn’t do it for any reason other than to bring a smile to those around her. Was that what Bea meant when she wrote reason number one?

Katie scrolled down the list.

Joyful to be around.

Pretty smile.

Resilient.

“How do you know?” she said in a voice filled with question.

Part of her glowed under the positive accolades. The other part couldn’t grasp how this woman knew her. Had Bea stalked her or had her followed? For what purpose? That was the million-dollar question.

Katie looked around the bakery. It wasn’t a million-dollar property, but it was something special. Where the pinstriped wallpaper once hung, there was a fresh coat of paint the exact color of soft butter. On the walls were pictures of the muffins she had baked. Photos of the seven daily specials hung in a row.

Behind the counter was the new coffeepot she’d purchased. It wasn’t the espresso machine her friend Sage had suggested, but it was better than the percolator that once sat spitting and sputtering on the Formica surface.

No, this place wasn’t worth a million dollars. It was worth more because it had changed Katie’s life.

In the end, it didn’t matter why the older woman had given her the gift. All that mattered was what Katie did with it.

She tucked the pink page back into her notebook, then flipped back to her bucket list and wrote things that came to mind.

Ride a roller coaster.

Meet a celebrity.

Cut down my own Christmas tree.

Fall in love.

Her number-one priority was never to overlook an opportunity to try something new.

While Katie continued to jot down notes, she saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye. Her friend Sage had hopped out of her SUV near Bishop’s Brewhouse and headed her way. Her corkscrew red curls bounced with every step.

The bell above the bakery door rang as Sage skipped inside. From her bright smile to her rosy cheeks, she glowed from her happy life with Cannon. Katie couldn’t believe only seven weeks ago Sage had a black eye and unquenchable desire to flee Aspen Cove, but no one knew better than she did how life could turn on a dime. Good could become bad and awful could become amazing in the time it took to take a breath.

“What’s up?”

Katie rose from her seat to give Sage a hug. At five-foot-six, she looked like a giant compared to her pint-sized friend.

“Sheriff Cooper’s friends are back at the bed and breakfast tomorrow, and the last time they were around, they ate everything but the furniture. Can I take what you have, or do you want to make me two dozen muffins?”

“I’ll make them fresh and bring them to the bar tonight.” Katie looked at what she had left in the display case. There were just over two dozen muffins remaining. She’d have to whip up another batch for the afternoon crowd anyway. “Is Cannon’s brother still coming home tonight?”

“It’s a go, as far as I know.” Sage plucked a sample off the tray that sat on the glass counter and popped it into her mouth.

“That’s great. I hope he follows through this time.”

Cannon had been expecting his brother Bowie for the last two weeks. Bowie had told him twice he was on his way then canceled the day he was due to arrive.

Katie imagined how difficult it would be to come back to the town where both his mother and fiancée had died. According to Doc Parker, it had been a decade since Bowie had been home. Wasn’t it time to bury the past like Katie did when she left Dallas?

Sage’s bright green eyes lit up. “Hey, I know cakes aren’t your thing … yet, but maybe you can bake a welcome home cake for Bowie.”

When Katie showed up in Aspen Cove, she barely knew how to boil water. Now she made the best muffins in town. They were the only muffins in town, but still …

“I’ve never made a cake.”

Sage cocked her head to the side. “Never? Not even from a mix out of a box?”

“I lived a very sheltered life. Ovens were hot and dangerous.”

From the age of thirteen on, Katie had been sickly. Her mother stuck to her like lint on fabric, hovering over her like an aseptic balloon, warding off everything that could set Katie’s health back or place her in danger.

“Unbelievable. Even I’ve made a cake. Although I’m most famous for my reheating skills.”

“‘Famous’ isn’t the word I’d reach for. That makes it sound pleasant. ‘Notorious’ is more like it.”

Sage laughed as she rounded the corner to get herself a cup of coffee.

Katie had a rule with her friends. If she’d served them a cup at least once, then they were family and could help themselves. However, if a stranger walked behind the display case, she would have nudged them out with a rolling pin. She’d consider a baking pan to the side of the head if they caused her trouble.

“We can’t all be Betty Crocker,” Sage said.

She followed her friend to the other side of the counter and prepped her new coffeemaker for a cup of decaf. Sage liked her coffee laced with electricity, whereas Katie chose the heart-healthy option of decaffeinated.

Sage looked at the coffee dripping into the cup. “I don’t know why you bother drinking that. It’s dirty water.” She lifted her own octane-filled cup to her lips.

“It makes me feel grown-up without hurting my organs.” Katie placed her hand on her chest. Under the cotton, she felt the raised scar tissue from her surgery.

“I’m a nurse, and I don’t take care of myself as well as you do.”

“You have to take care of the body you’ve got.”

Katie had told no one her medical history. She’d kept it a secret. She didn’t want people hovering over her. For once, she wanted to live her life like everyone else. Her anonymity in Aspen Cove had given her that. What no one knew couldn’t hurt her or influence how they perceived or treated her.

“What about the cake? Are you up for the challenge?”

Katie looked over the counter at her journal, which was sitting open on the table. This instance fit the bill as a new opportunity. How hard could making a cake from scratch be?

“I’ll do it. What flavor?”

“Let’s keep it simple. White cake and white frosting.”

“You want frosting, too?” she teased.

Sage shook her head. Katie had seen that incredulous look before on Sage’s face. It was the one that screamed, You’re kidding, right?

“Without frosting, cake is just flavored bread.”

“Fine, frosting, too.” She pulled her cup from the coffeemaker and took a sip. “What are Ben and Cannon doing today?”

The two women leaned against the counter and looked out the window. What once was a ghost town had new life. It experienced a rebirth every year in May when the tourists and fishermen showed up. The once whitewashed windows of the closed dry goods store across the street were cleaned and now sparkled under the afternoon sun. It turned out that from May to October, the women of Aspen Cove brought their wares to town to sell to the visitors. They offered everything from soy candles to beeswax soap.

“They’re at the cemetery. The new grave marker for the Bennett’s is being set up today. It has Bill, Bea, and Brandy’s names carved in granite. Bowie will eventually visit to say goodbye to Brandy, so Cannon wanted it to be perfect.”

Katie had been to the gravesite that had only a temporary marker with Bennett painted in block letters. It broke her heart that this little town had lost so much.

“At least Bowie’s not coming home to a drunk father,” Katie said. Ben had sobered up and stepped back into the roles of father and friend. “He’s been a lifesaver here. Without him, I’d be working seven days a week.” Katie had kept him busy at the bakery. She’d taught him how to make the weekend muffins, which gave her some much-needed time off.

“That’s a blessing, for sure.” Sage snatched another muffin bite from the sample plate. “I’m not sure how Bowie will acclimate to being back in town. He never wanted to return after Brandy died. He’s been tight-lipped about what happened to him in Afghanistan, but he was medically retired from the United States Army, so it can’t be good. It’s one thing to come back home because he wants to, another if he’s back because he has no choice.”

“That’s so sad, an injury added to a broken heart.” Katie imagined both would require recovery time, but she never considered it would take so long to adjust. “You’d think all those years would be plenty of time to get past the grief and move on. Ben did, so I hope his son can, too.”

Katie had no earthly idea how long it took to get over losing the love of one’s life. She’d never been in love, but she’d added it to her bucket list.

Sage drank the rest of her coffee and tossed the paper cup in the nearby garbage can. “Who knows how long that takes? Everyone works at a different pace.”

“Speaking of pace.” Katie needed time to figure out how to make a cake. She looked at the muffins in the case. With Ben gone for the day, she was on her own. “You know what? If I’m going to make that cake, I better get to it.” She opened the display case and boxed up the remaining muffins. “On second thought, why don’t you take these? I think I’ll close up early so I can do justice to Bowie’s welcome-home cake.” The least she could do was provide something sweet for a man no doubt filled with bitterness.

Sage gave her a sideways glance. “Are you sure? I’ve never known you to close early.”

“You’ve known me for seven weeks.”

“I think I’ve got a good handle on you.”

What Katie wanted to say was, “You don’t know me at all,” but she didn’t because that would open an entirely different dialogue. She wasn’t ready to give up her secrets.

“Sometimes I don’t think I know myself.” She knew who she wanted to be, but there was a part of her that was a mystery. A part of her that had belonged to another—her heart.

Donors were kept anonymous, so Katie had been in the dark. Records were sealed. She’d thought Bea’s daughter’s heart might sit in her chest. The April day of her death fell eerily close to Katie’s new chance at life, but the rest of the timeline didn’t fit. Katie’s second chance came years after Brandy’s death.

Sage picked up the bakery box and gave Katie a one-armed hug. “The party starts at seven. Everyone will be there.”

As soon as Sage left, Katie locked the doors and turned out the lights. There was only one thing left to do. She’d make the best cake she could for Bowie by adding a dash of courage, a pinch of resilience, and the love and compassion she had in her borrowed heart.