Page 11 of Hometown Girl

She said nothing.

“Admit it, Beth. It would be great.”

Beth shrugged. “I guess it would be great.”

“Ha. I knew you’d agree.” Molly practically jumped when she said it, like a lawyer who’d just made a critical point for her case.

“We’re talking hypotheticals here, right?”

“Think about it for a minute. Everything moves so fast nowadays. Even the tourists here—they’re all so busy. It wasn’t like that at Fairwind. Things were slow and relaxed. It was the perfect escape.” She shoved the barn door open, and they both stared at what had once been a gathering place for all of their friends and family.

This space had been a little shop filled with homemade jellies and jams. They’d sold easy lunches and bags of freshly picked apples. There’d been a homemade-fudge counter off to the side and a whole separate space for the bakery. The smell of apples and cinnamon had always lingered in the air.

How full of life that old barn had been.

But now, the empty space was just a shell of its past glory. Tables and chairs caked with dust had lost their rustic charm. The shelves along the walls stood dull and lifeless, and the counter where friendly cashiers had handed out the occasional free piece of candy had all but fallen apart.

“I don’t think anyone would see this as an escape.”

Molly crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you’re wrong. You have to see the potential here.”

“It was a different world back then. People are too busy to come to a place like Fairwind.” A stray cat ran into the barn and darted through the half-opened door of a storage room. “Besides, from what I’ve heard, Old Man Pendergast is not interested in selling Fairwind. If he catches us out here—”

“He’s dead.”

Beth frowned. “He is?”

“Yes, and he didn’t have any family and he didn’t have a will.”

Beth stared at her sister, recognizing that gleam in her eye. “No way. Molly, this is a bad investment.”

“Beth, listen, you’re a businesswoman. This is what you’re trained for—to walk into a business and figure out how to make a go of it. You must be able to recognize a gold mine when you see it.”

“This is not what I was trained for. This is—” A mouse scurried across the floor and Beth recoiled. “This is something else entirely.” She turned and walked out of the barn.

“Look around. Breathe in that fresh country air. Picture what this place could be again if the right people got their hands on it.”

Beth had been here before—carefully balancing Molly’s sensitivity with the need to speak the truth. This was not a good idea. Anyone could see that.

Anyone, that is, except Molly.

“You trust me, right?” Beth asked. “You know I wouldn’t steer you wrong?”

“Of course, but you’re kind of closed-minded.”

“No, I’m pragmatic. And that’s why I can tell you in no uncertain terms that this farm is a money pit. Everywhere I look, I see things falling apart.”

“I bought it.”

Beth spun around to face her sister. “You did what?”

“There was an auction this morning, and I was the only bidder. I got it for a steal.” Molly beamed.

Beth shook her head, starting back up the hill toward her car, Molly close on her heels.

“Would you stop with that look? I brought you out here because I want us to do this together.”

Beth didn’t slow her pace. “This is crazy, Molly. I know you’re impulsive, butthis! Buying afarm?”

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