s were

own and flaky, the fillings bubbling. She let them cool

Paige. C

, drawn by the scent. Kaitly

went wide. "Mommy! This is th

ly, his expression thoughtful. Then he

om the boy who

mile. The product was solid. But n

he bus fare to the county seat. She patted her pockets. Emp

bedroom. To the boy lyin

he kind of hair that wig makers paid top dollar for. And in a town like Sweetwater C

ous kid. But then she looked at Paige, who was still licking her fi

't have room

e walked into the bedroom and stood over the b

ength. She trimmed the ends, giving him a neat, short style that m

tying them into a neat bundle a

on her coat. "I'm going t

ut a small bundle wrapped in a clot

ice of the blueberry pie. She look

pered, kissing the top of h

y seat. It was a bumpy, uncomfortable r

n town. The owner, a heavyset woman named

. "Very good. I can give you one hundred and fifty for it. In the

fifty dollars.

dy cardboard boxes, wax paper, and ribbon. She bought more flour, more butter, mo

ace to sell one pie at a time, to haggle with cheapskates and tourists. K

the richest family in the county? The Mercers. O

ntly, they threw

on a hill, surrounded by manicured lawns and iron gates. She walked

" she said to the guard. "I ha

in her worn clothes and her determined ex

e garden party," Kaitlynn said, her voi

gged and picke

tlynn walked up the drive, her head held high

looking woman in her fifties, wearing a crisp pantsuit.

girl?" Helen asked,

ng her hand. Helen didn't take it. "I'm the

an eyebrow.

of blueberries and basil wafted out

ynn said. "Something that isn't the same old chocolate cake or lemon tart. This is a

back at Kaitlynn. "I don't buy

steady. "Just taste it. One bite. If you don't li

a fork. She cut off a small piece, spearing a blue

yes w

llowed immediately by the savory, aromatic kick of the b

fting from skepticism to surprise, and

allowing. "I think w