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She let out a heavy sigh. "They areobsessedwith murder. Murder this, murder that. Every book is a murder mystery of some kind, but they prefer serial killers. They watch true crime shows and dissect true crime podcasts. I can't take it. It's too much. Especially in the morning, which is when they like to meet."

I laughed. "Yeah, Mack warned me about that."

"They call their club This Book Club Is My Alibi,or TBCIMA for short." She pronounced the acronymTee-Buh-Seema."Maeve and Sharon are obsessed with making merchandise and logos. You'll see it. You won't miss it."

I pushed that book aside and reached for the historical.

"Read What You Love is the other book club. So far they haven't established any rules except theydon'tread murder books. They meet in the back room—sorry there's no bed—and have snacks from next door." She waved towards the Green Door Cafe. "That club is still pretty new. Maeve hasn't made a logo yet, but I expect one any day. Be prepared to fork over some cash if you decide to come out."

I didn't know these ladies, but I already loved them and their enthusiasm. These were my kind of people.

"You are welcome to hang out here and read any time. That's what the couches are for. I just ask that any food be eaten in the back room."

"You let people bring food in here?" If Willow wasn't careful, I was going to start squatting in that back room. An old, familiar tingle raced through me. I could picture myself back there, my laptop open, my notes strewn across a table as I conjured up a new world for Georgie and Adam and Moses.

"Of course. I want people in here. I want them reading. We don't have a library, so I see this shop as a placeholder. It's a space where everyone should be comfortable. So come and work here, eat here, read here." The door jingled and Willow waved. "Hey Christine!"

A younger woman smiled. "Hi Willow. How are you?"

"I'm good. Let me know if you need anything!" Christine went straight to the couch in the middle of the store and curled up with her laptop. "See? Just like that. You're welcome any time."

My heart skittered and it might have even leapt. "I think I will."

I let Willow get back to straightening while I browsed the rest of the store. Everything was warm and clean. The shelves were arranged so that both traditionally published and indie published books were highlighted. There was a travel section dedicated to the Appalachian Mountains and another section for local authors that ended with Sammy.

I wanted to hug the whole display. Every book was there, including the Sammy encyclopedia, cookbook, and dress patterns. I had made a truly terrible dress from that book when I was fourteen. But oh, how I'd loved trying.

I pulled the fourth book down and held it lovingly in my hands. This was the book that turned me into a reader. I'd always enjoyed books, but this book was the first one to make me forget the real world existed. From there I devoured the entire series, imagining myself getting into trouble with Sammy and being part of her family, right here along the river.

I put that book back and pulled out one of the later ones, flipping through its pages as nostalgia—and maybe a little magic—washed over me. I did it over and over again until I found a book I didn't have. A guidebook to locations in the series. I snatched it up like it was the last chocolate bar in the world and hurried to the counter to pay for my prizes.

"Is that everything for today?" Willow asked, her eyes going a little wide when she saw the guidebook. "Are you a Sammy fan?"

I blushed from head-to-toe. "Just a little bit. It's why I picked Lost Creek as my home base for the summer."

"You are going to fit in so well at book club," she chuckled. "Just keep in mind many of these locations are on private property and as nice as everyone is, they will shoot you first and ask questions later. So be safe."

I skipped right over the threat of violence. "Why will I fit in at book club?" Something about the way she said that niggled at me.

Willow placed my books in a bag along with the receipt. "Sammy is special to us. We're very protective of that legacy. Someone who cares about it as much as we do will fit right in." She handed the bag to me. "It was really nice to meet you...?"

"Marley. Thank you, Willow."

I put the bag in my truck and then paused to take in the town. My skin tingled and my soul buzzed. The air was cool and misty. The river roared on the other side of the road. Jackson was right, there was magic here and it was already starting to heal small pieces of my heart.

For the first time in a long time, I had hope. Real hope.

I also had an empty stomach and I needed the Green Door Café to be decent since it appeared to be my only option when I didn't want to cook. Luckily the smells that hit me when I opened the door made my mouth water.

It was a small cafe with a green counter at the back, booths lining each wall, and tables filling the open space. It was also empty, but it was still early, just past eleven.

"Pick a table!" someone called from the back.

I decided to take the booth furthest from the door and sat facing the kitchen. It was a habit, and at this point I wasn't sure I could break it. If I sat far away and hid my face, there was a chance I could eat in peace. At least that's how the last two years of my life had gone.

Maybe in a couple of weeks I could sit in the middle of the room, or even one of the tables next to the windows.

Baby steps.