Page 9 of Hometown Girl

And yes, she often felt like a failure for it. After all, it had never been her dream to go into the family business and live in a small tourist town in Illinois, even if it was home.

Yet somehow she’d grown content with the monotony of it all. And now, as her Keurig spit to life and her assistant pulled into the parking lot, she prepared for another day that was nearly indistinguishable from the last.

She arrived at work early on purpose—she liked to start the day with a little peace and quiet. But as she sat down to enjoy her cup of coffee, her cell phone buzzed in her purse.

She pulled it out and saw Molly’s name on the screen. It shocked her that her sister was even up before nine o’clock. Beth’s stomach dropped—had something happened to Mom?

“Hello?”

“Hey. Are you busy right now?”

“I’m working.”

“So that’s a no?”

Molly probably wanted her to go junking again. Or to go to the animal shelter or some estate sale hundreds of miles away. No matter how many times Beth refused, her little sister seemed to believe Beth could leave work whenever she wanted. After all, it was the family business, which apparently meant Beth could throw all the rules out the window.

But then, that was the difference between the two of them, wasn’t it? Beth stayed in her office and ran the business while Molly booked trips to Europe, started dog-walking businesses and ordered a car off the Internet.

“I’ve got a meeting this afternoon, and I need to look over my notes.”

“But right now in this moment, you’re not busy, right?”

“Molly, I’ve got work.”

“It’ll be there when you get back.”

“Back from where?”

“I need you to meet me somewhere.”

Beth stifled a groan. Molly’s excursions didn’t always go as she planned. Beth’s impulsive little sister rarely thought things through. Beth pictured her stranded on the side of the road outside the Superman Statue in Metropolis or at the top of the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier.

“Come on, Beth, it’s something really cool.”

“I have a lot to do today.” She glanced down at the planner on her desk. In fact, the whole day was wide open with the exception of one meeting, which Beth knew would take maybe thirty minutes. She’d all but delegated herself out of a job. Most business owners would love the freedom she now found in her schedule, but a part of her felt unchallenged. Maybe even a little bored.

Still, this was her career, whether she’d intended it to be or not.

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

Beth groaned. Maybe mixing up her day was a good thing. “Fine. Where?”

“Fairwind Farm.”

Images from childhood turned through her mind like a slideshow of her favorite memories. Fairwind had been a weekly event for the Whitaker family—and for many families in Willow Grove.

In the fall, they’d fill bushel baskets with handpicked apples, play family-style games in the meadow and, on occasion, spend an evening around the magical bonfire. Beth had sworn there was pixie dust on the falling embers of those flames.

It was as if Fairwind had been frozen in time. There, everything was perfect. No cheating boyfriends. No sick parents. No panicky guilt.

In the winter, they’d trudge through the snow out behind the barns to locate the perfect Christmas tree. Every spring and summer, they joined their neighbors for picnics and a countywide flea market that had put Willow Grove on the map.

But that was years ago. The farm had closed and, last she heard, was now in complete disarray.

“Why do you want me to meet you there? You know we can’t trespass on Old Man Pendergast’s property.”

“Trust me, it’s fine.”

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