Garrett stood on the sidewalk while the doorman hailed him a cab. His week in New York City had flown by. He’d met with his editor, who thankfully had liked the book he’d just finished and was interested in his next novel. He’d met a friend for dinner during the week and connected with a few old work colleagues. It had been a blast, but he was ready to get back to his life in Candle Beach—and to Dahlia.

The air in the city stank of exhaust, sweat, and who knew what else. More cars rushed by him in a few minutes than he’d see all day back in Candle Beach. How had he once lived here? And enjoyed it? That was another time in his life. Now, he preferred a much quieter life.

A woman selling jewelry down the street caught his eye. Her wavy red hair glinted in the sun, much like Dahlia’s had the day he first saw her. Dahlia. As much as he’d tried to deny his attraction to her, she’d somehow managed to wriggle her way into his life. So what if she wasn’t the boring accountant or scientist that he’d thought he wanted? All artsy types weren’t the same as Lisa.

“Sir, I’ve got you a cab,” the doorman said, scooting Garrett’s bags over to the door of the taxi.

“Thanks.” He smiled at the man and tipped him.

When they got to JFK, he paid the cab driver and stepped out into the milling crowd. He pushed his way inside the airport and scanned the signs for his airline.

After checking in and getting through security, he settled down in the waiting area for his flight. A man in his thirties next to him kept tapping his foot and checking his watch.

“Looks like we’ll have a packed flight,” Garrett said to him.

“I know. That’s what I’m worried about.” The man pulled out his phone. “My girlfriend was supposed to be here forty minutes ago. She said she lost track of time or something.” He stood. “If she’s not here soon, they’re going to give her seat away.”

“I’m sure she’ll get here soon,” he said as the man dialed on his phone.

Then the man hung up. Worry and anger were etched across his face. “Voicemail again. I swear, she’s always late. It drives me crazy. And she can’t even be bothered to answer the phone.”

“I know the type,” Garrett said. He opened the thriller novel he’d brought with him for the trip, but the words swam in front of his eyes. He’d been that man, both with Lisa and now with Dahlia. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Dahlia and Lisa were alike in many ways—ways that tended to annoy him. He closed the book and leaned back in his seat.

Dahlia missing their dinner date worried him more than he’d like and he’d watched her struggle with the organization and management of the bookstore. They were so different. He had to hand it to her though; she’d persevered through all the challenges Agnes had thrown at her. But was it enough? Was there really a future for them together?

A voice blared over the loudspeaker. “Flight 7886 to Seattle, now boarding.”

He was going to have to make a decision soon.

* * *

Founder’s Day came sooner than either Dahlia or Wendy would have liked. Although Wendy had made progress on rehabilitating the ruined furniture, she wasn’t satisfied with her stock on hand. Dahlia had carefully chosen a selection of books for the tourists and had a full supply of muffins to sell, along with a commercial coffee urn.

“Whew, it’s hot today,” Wendy said. “You’d have been better off selling iced coffees.”

“Don’t even say ice.” She wiped the sweat away from her forehead. Not even eleven o’clock and the heat was already sweltering. Usually the air coming off the water cooled the temperature to a comfortable level, but today the air remained motionless and the thermometer stayed firmly in the high eighties.

“Can’t complain about the crowds though,” Wendy said.

The warm weather had brought out record-breaking attendance for the Founder’s Day celebration, and the summer market was in full swing. Later in the day, there would be a parade, town picnic, and nighttime fireworks.

“I think the whole town is out today.” Dahlia scanned the crowds.

“Yeah, nobody wants to stay in their non-air-conditioned houses.” Wendy sucked down half a bottle of water. “I’d better get back to my booth. I just wanted to see how you were getting on.”

“I’m good. How about you? Have the police said anything about what happened last weekend?”

“No, nothing. He probably moved on to someone else. I couldn’t have been the only person he ever dreamed of marrying.”

“Probably not.”

Wendy had seemed touchy about her stalker. Not that Dahlia blamed her, but considering Wendy lived above the bookstore, she felt she had a right to know what was going on. The day after the vandalism of her booth, Wendy had insisted Dahlia return to her own home. Dahlia had ensured that the police were still patrolling around the bookstore, but with no other threats to Wendy, had done what her friend asked.

“Oooh, a fish in the pond.” Wendy eyed a young couple who were browsing in her booth.

“Hook ’em.” Dahlia grinned. Although the town felt overrun with tourists, they were good for the bottom line.

She rearranged stacks of books and replenished her supply of local hiking guidebooks. They’d gone fast that morning.

“Ready for work,” a woman said from behind her.

Dahlia stood from where she’d been kneeling next to a box of books on the floor. Her hair flew across her eyes and she brushed it back.

“Hey, Marsha. Thanks so much for helping me out today.”

“You’re very welcome. Chester has his mayoral duties at the parade and I just rattle around like the last coffee bean in the jar when we have these town functions.” She lowered her bulky frame into the folding armchair.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

Marsha took in the market and nodded with satisfaction. “Ruth would be proud of you, honey.”

A smile quivered on Dahlia’s lips. “Do you think so? Some of the things I’ve done with the bookstore aren’t exactly what she’d do.”

“Ruth would have done everything she could to hang on to the bookstore—which is what you’re doing. She would be proud.”

On impulse, Dahlia leaned down and hugged the elderly woman. “Thanks Marsha,” she whispered.

“I miss her too, honey.” Marsha blinked away a tear and busied herself straightening books on the table. “Now, let’s sell some books.”

“Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Of course, remember, us Ladies were running the bookstore before you came to town.”

“Right.” She laughed. She felt a strange sense of attachment to the offshoot of the bookstore. “Thanks for helping out. Maggie and Gretchen are both in the parade and I promised them I’d be on the sidelines to cheer them on.”

“Go.” Marsha smiled at her. “I’ll be fine. Take pictures of any of the truly strange floats.”

Dahlia wasn’t sure what she meant by “truly strange”, but smiled back at her and walked away.

The parade was scheduled to start at noon, so she found a spot on the curb along the parade route. The available seats filled up fast. Little kids with flags waved them in the air as their mothers fought a losing battle to apply sunscreen to their squirmy offspring.

She breathed in the warm, salty air. This was home. She knew she’d made the right decision to stay in Candle Beach, even though she may lose the bookstore anyways if it wasn’t profitable at the end of the year. At least she’d have tried.

Around her, the crowds stood and cheered as the first of the parade floats rounded the corner onto Main Street. The first float was a gigantic chicken, advertising the Homestyle Restaurant.

“Bawk, bawk,” cried the chicken, or rather the young man dressed as a fowl who waved from the float. She pulled out her cell phone and snapped a shot. Behind the chicken float, a group of baton-twirling dancers pranced along. The girls beamed as they came down the street. Next to her, a woman who must have been the mom of one of the dancers took photos in furious succession.

On the next float, a miniature house sat on a bed of imitation grass. She leaned forward to take a photo and realized it was the float for Candle Beach Real Estate. As it rolled past, Gretchen leaned out and waved at Dahlia as she threw candy to the kids along the way.

Dahlia grinned and waved back at Gretchen. This was way more fun than the parades in Seattle she’d gone to as a kid. Why hadn’t she attended the Founder’s Day parade during all those summers she’d spent in Candle Beach? She’d probably thought she was too cool for such things.

After a few more off-the-wall floats, including one carrying the mayor dressed in early twentieth-century garb, the Bluebonnet Café float appeared.

The float was decorated with an array of live plants and a few of the patio tables adorned with food from the café. Dahlia’s stomach grumbled at the sight of Maggie’s delicious food. Maggie had dressed her five-year-old son Alex as a chef, his costume completed by a white chef’s hat. He waved from an enclosed box at the front of the float, looking too adorable for words. Maggie stood behind him waving at the crowds, who cheered as she went by.

The parade rolled around the corner toward the end of the route. Dahlia stopped at the Bluebonnet Café and grabbed a cheeseburger and fries to go. She wasn’t sure how long Marsha would want to stay at the booth and she didn’t want to abuse her generous offer to man the booth while she watched the parade.

She managed to snag a seat on an empty park bench and was halfway through her burger when Gretchen tapped her on the shoulder.

“Oh my gosh, those smell awesome.” Gretchen ogled the fries.

“Want some? They gave me too many.”

“Not going to say no to that offer. I haven’t had anything to eat since early this morning. You’d be surprised how much work those parade floats are.”

“Yeah, not going to let Garrett talk me into one of those, no matter how good they are for business,” Dahlia said.

“Garrett?” Gretchen raised an eyebrow and bit into the fry.

“He’s been helping me with To Be Read.”

“Helping with the bookstore? Is that what they’re calling it now?” Gretchen grabbed another fry and wiggled her eyebrows at Dahlia.

“Yes, helping me promote the bookstore.” She picked her soft drink up off the ground and took a long swig of it, hiding her face from Gretchen’s keen eyes. “Okay, we’ve been out on a few dates.”

“I knew it! So how have things been going with him?”

“Good I think. I don’t know. It’s complicated.” She put the takeout container down between them on the bench. Gretchen took it as an offer of the remaining fries.

“Complicated how?”

“He’s been burned before by women in his life that weren’t reliable. And you know me, I’m not always the most organized person in the world. I’m not sure if that’s an issue for him, but I really like him and don’t want to lose him.” She shrugged. “With all that’s going on, I’m trying not to overanalyze it.”

“What’s going on? More than just the bookstore stuff?”

“It’s Wendy.” Dahlia took another sip of her drink. “You know how her truck was vandalized a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah. Did they ever catch the person who did that?”

“No.” She gazed out over the park at the children playing soccer. “Did you see the story in the Candle Beach Weekly about the break-in at her market booth?”

“No, I’ve been slammed at work. How am I just now hearing about this? Did the Ladies go on strike?”

Dahlia laughed and then fell silent. “It happened late at night, maybe they were all asleep. Adam covered it for the paper though, so I’d be surprised if it wasn’t making the rounds of the gossip circuit.” She frowned. “Someone from her past is stalking her. Well, they were. Chances are they’ve left town now.”

“Does Garrett know?” A stray soccer ball rolled over to them and Gretchen threw it back to the kids.

“No, that’s the problem. He’s been in New York since the break-in. He doesn’t know and Wendy doesn’t want to tell him. I should tell him, right?” She slumped on the bench. “But then I’m betraying Wendy’s trust.”

“True, but maybe you shouldn’t see it as breaking Wendy’s trust, more like protecting her.” Gretchen looked thoughtful. “I know if my mom was in trouble, I’d want to know.” She glanced at Dahlia and they both laughed. Chances were the very proper Mrs. Roberts wouldn’t ever be in trouble.

“So you’re saying I should tell him?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, but if it were me, I would.” Gretchen checked her watch. “I’ve got to get going. I promised to help set up the fireworks seating area. Do you want to meet Maggie and me tonight to watch the fireworks? She’s going to let Alex stay up to watch them.”

“Thanks, but Garrett’s supposed to be back today. We made plans to watch the fireworks together.” With everything going on, watching a fireworks display would take her mind off of things.

Gretchen left and Dahlia gathered up her lunch. Marsha would be wondering where she was.

At the far end of the park, a group had gathered for a series of events. From the pile of burlap sacks stacked near a picnic table, Dahlia gathered that there was a sack race on the agenda. Currently, teams of children and adults were carefully balancing eggs on spoons as they crossed the grassy lawn. Cheers erupted from the crowd as a winner appeared. Dahlia had fond memories of egg races as a child, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever get to experience that with a child of her own. Why was that even occurring to her? She’d never had maternal urges in the past, but something about seeing Maggie’s son earlier in the parade and the joy on these children’s faces struck a chord.

She shook her head. There would be plenty of time for that in the future. Thirty was the new twenty, right?