Page 143 of Always Meant for You
“Today, I want you to do the same for every person who visits your stall. Greet them how you greeted me. Start talking. Start sharing.”
A voice breaks the hush. One of the Sperry brothers. “But they don’t know us.”
I meet his gaze. “Oh, but they do, sir.”
I reach into my purse, get my cell phone, and open one of the Eat Elverna social media accounts. The sun flashes off the screen as I hold it up.
“Six thousand eight hundred twenty-two. That’s how many people connected with the post about Sperry Dairy cheese.” I move from booth to booth, scrolling through the feed. “Five thousand forty-two. Seven thousand ninety-nine. One thousand three hundred fifteen. Every number represents a person. A soul. Someone who learned about you and felt something real.”
More nods. And I feel it—doubt loosening its grip.
“You might not recognize them,” I continue. “But they’ve already chosen you with their time and with their energy. And today, we choose them back.”
The Sperrys nod. Others follow. Mr. Stewart. Mr. Thackston. Even the town gossips who had nothing kind to say about me at Jamie’s funeral nod along. I glance at Cal, and there it is—that grin. Barely there but speaking volumes.
“I have a feeling we’ll be busy today. But don’t rush,” I say, raising my hands to make a point. “Breathe. Make space. Talk to each person who stops at your table. Learn their names. Tell them yours. Let them feel what it means to be welcomed by farm country. By Elverna. We’re not just making sales. We’re making friends.”
Jamie drifts through my thoughts, his voice echoing through time.
“If my brother were here, he’d tell you there is no higher calling than feeding a family. No greater trust than being chosen to nourish someone’s children. Your hard work matters. You matter. This town matters, and today we are Elverna.”
“We are Elverna!” a Sperry brother echoes.
My bottom lip trembles. I think about the lies I spun as Bella Mae, how I tried to forget this town. I think about the woman I pretended to be. But that woman isn’t here. It’s me. Mabel Muldowney. And that’s enough.
“Every Elverna farmer and shop owner can stand proud, knowing what you grow, raise, and craft has been done with care.” I take off my cap and hold it up. “Organic. Sustainable. Grown with love. That’s what Elverna stands for.”
Silence stretches across the square.
Then . . . applause.
I blink once, twice, until I find the source. It’s my father. Hands together, slow and certain. The rest follow. Louder. Warmer. And all of it for me.
Cal steps closer and lowers his voice. “No one could’ve said it better. Not even Jamie.”
I nod, barely holding it together. “I meant every word.”
“I know.” His gaze locks with mine, and the rest of the world slips away. There’s so much in his expression, it nearly brings me to my knees.
Fierce loyalty.
Maybe even fierce love.
Before I can speak, the sound of engines grows. A hum. Then a continual rumble.
“Look at that!” Kenny shouts, pointing toward the line of cars winding their way toward Main Street.
Cal remains beside me and brushes his little finger against mine. To anyone else, we’re simply standing side by side. But I feel it—the weight of that connection, the promise tucked inside that single touch.
We’re in this together.
“Are you ready for what’s coming?” he asks.
I hold his gaze, my heart wide open. “We’re about to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
CAL
