4

Forrest

I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the satisfying pull of my muscles as I welcomed the new day. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the cabin's curtains, greeting me much earlier than I was used to. As I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my stomach rumbled. The unfortunate experience at the local market the previous evening had left me without the necessary provisions, and I knew I needed to remedy the situation.

The image of the baker with her rosy cheeks and red hair materialized in my mind, as did the trays of pastries that beckoned from within her bakery. I didn't hesitate for a second. I pulled on my shoes and snatched the keys to my truck.

In the rear-view mirror, I caught a glimpse of my cabin nestled in the dense trees, a speck amid nature's vast expanse. As much as I enjoyed the peace of the woods, the thought of spending an entire month confined to an isolated space made me feel suffocated. Since the renovations of my bar were delayed, I was left with nothing but idle time on my hands.

I approached the main street of the quaint town of Cider Falls, and the storefronts came into view. The hardware store with its peeling paint, the old bookstore with its weathered sign swinging gently in the autumn breeze. People moved about at a leisurely pace, with no urgency in their steps. It was as if time itself had slowed down in their corner of the world, offering respite from the hectic modern world outside its borders.

The smell of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries enveloped me as soon as I stepped into the bustling bakery. I joined the line, watching with fascination as the cheery baker expertly packed four muffins for the young girl in front of me. Every detail was attended to with meticulous care and precision, from the gentle placement of each freshly baked muffin into the sturdy brown box to the flawless tying of the twine that secured it .

"Here you are, sunshine," she said to the girl. "Make sure your momma gets one."

As soon as the baker turned to me, the warmth in her gaze dissipated. It was replaced by a coolness that made my stomach drop. The atmosphere in the bakery shifted, becoming tense and unwelcoming.

"Can I help you?" Her voice dripped with disdain. It was clear she wasn't fond of me.

I guess I hadn't exactly made the best first impression. Winning people over really wasn't my thing.

But I was turning over a new leaf in Cider Falls, and I was determined to give it my best shot.

"I apologize for yesterday," I told her. "I was having a bad day, and I was rude. Can we start over?"

Her eyes studied me with cautious curiosity. I could see the uncertainty in them, wondering if I could be trusted. Her gaze seemed to search my face for any signs of deceit or hidden motives. I stood still, feeling like a specimen under a microscope, trying my best to project honesty and sincerity through my body language.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said cheerfully. "Everyone has their days." She dusted her hands on her apron before extending one to me. "I'm Sienna. "

A sense of relief washed over me at her unexpectedly kind response. "I'm Forrest," I replied, shaking her soft hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Forrest." Her ruby lips parted into a wide smile, and every bone in my body felt like it was vibrating. "Welcome to Cider Falls."

"Thank you," I said. "I would hate to be at odds with my new business neighbor."

Her shoulders stiffened at my words, tightening with a subtle tension that was quickly released. Her body language spoke volumes, even as her composed expression remained unchanged.

"By the way, what exactly is a sports bar?" she asked. "A place where you drink and play sports at the same time?"

Sienna's face was etched with seriousness, but the question she asked struck me as utterly hilarious. I struggled to contain my laughter, pressing my lips tightly together.

"A sports bar is a place where people go to drink and watch , not play sports," I explained. "The latter sounds dangerous."

"I'm surprised you picked Cider Falls for the location of your sports bar," she said. "Quite a random choice. "

"In fact, it was a random choice," I laughed. "I pulled out a map, closed my eyes, and decided to move wherever my finger landed."

"That's a very interesting way to make important life decisions," she said, her smile never fading.

The door of the bakery creaked open, welcoming the arrival of three women into its cozy interior. Their eyes roved over the shop before settling on me, their expressions turning sour. A silent understanding passed between them as they exchanged subtle glances, before smoothly turning on their heels and leaving the shop.

Their hasty exit was a clear indication of my unwelcome presence in town. For reasons unbeknownst to me, it seemed like everyone was avoiding me.

"Sorry about that," I told Sienna, "I probably shouldn't be hanging around."

"Oh, I'm sure they were trying to walk into the floral shop next door," Sienna said. "Happens all the time!"

For some reason, I didn't believe her. Though, I wanted to.

"I'll just take a slice of that," I told her, pointing to a delectable-looking treat, "and then I'll be out of your hair."

"One slice of apple strudel coming up," she said.

She enveloped the pastry in brown parchment paper, securing it with a tight knot using her signature twine.

"Oh, you didn't have to go to that trouble," I explained bashfully. "I'll probably just rip that paper open and eat it right now."

She plucked a second slice from her tray and wrapped it in a napkin before handing it to me. The golden pastry glistened with a light glaze, inviting me to take a bite. My mouth watered as I eagerly devoured the treat, savoring each flaky layer of buttery dough and cinnamon-spiced apples.

"You can save the other one for later," she said, watching me with a grin as I gobbled up the pastry.

"What's your secret?" I asked after my last bite. "They're unreal."

She shrugged, her cheeks turning crimson red at my words. "That's sweet of you to say."

"I mean it," I said. "Where did you learn how to bake?" I asked.

"Self-taught," she answered as she fiddled with the sleeves of her sweater. "My grandmother used to be the owner of a bakery here in Cider Falls. Although I never had the chance to meet her, I've had a love for baking since I was a young girl."

"You've carried on her legacy."

She cocked her head slightly. "I guess I have."

"I'm sure she'd be proud."

"I hope so."

"When I was a kid, I never really understood my grandfather's fascination with fixing up older cars, but one day, it was as if his repair shop was beckoning to me. Maybe our deep-seated passions are inherited, coursing through our veins with a force that cannot be denied."

"It's almost as if they are an inherent part of who we are," Sienna whispered, "impossible to escape."

"Exactly," I said. "Well, I should—"

A group of giggling teenagers entered the bakery, their laughter echoing against the walls. I waved goodbye to Sienna before slipping out the front door, not wanting to disrupt any more of her customers.

As I walked down the main street, it was as though the entire town could sense I didn't belong. That I was an outsider. The place had an enigmatic allure that captivated me with a subtle energy hinting at untold secrets.

And I liked uncovering secrets.