Secrets At Maple Syrup Farm Read Online Free Page B

leaves, ones I used to take from parks when I was a child and press between the pages of my diary, until they dried, holding their shape, like an exotic fan.
    Farmwork would surely be a damn sight better than being cooped up in an old diner.
    “Do you think he’d consider me for the job?” I couldn’t contain my eagerness. A job on day one would surely be a good sign.
    “I don’t rightly know,” she said thoughtfully. “You see, I don’t know him like I know most folk, but there ain’t no harm in tryin’.”
    Knowing Ashford was a small town, I seized on the idea of working at the farm. I doubted there’d be many other opportunities, and if I didn’t snag something quick I’d have to move on and try my luck elsewhere. “I really need a job, CeeCee. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”
    Her big brown eyes softened. “You go on and see if he’ll hire you, and then if he does, get yourself some wet-weather clothes. Being outdoors all day, that cold will surely sink into your bones.”
    “Thanks, Cee.” Out of all the buses in the world, all the ways I could have traveled, I ended up next to CeeCee, and I thanked my lucky stars. With her help, I might have found a job, and at least I’d know one friendly face in town.
    As we neared Ashford, the houses bunched closer together. In a driveway a group of kids were riding bicycles side by side in a languid, just-woke-up kind of way. Siblings, or next-door neighbors? I thought back to my childhood, moving from place to place, making friends, and then having to leave them. Mom’s itchy feet, her gypsy-like wandering, kept us on the road right up until my teenage years. I turned to look back at the kids. It must have been nice, settling in one place as a kid, knowing nothing would change except that their bandy little legs would fill out, and they’d eventually ditch their bikes for cars. A lifetime of friendship built right next door to one another.
    Just as the driver promised, ten minutes later the small town came rolling into view. Snow drifted down, making the place look as pretty as a picture on a postcard. Neat store fronts lined the road, and for a small town, they had quite a variety. Jimmy pulled the bus into a park, and turned off the engine.
    I gathered my belongings, and inched my way down the rubber-floored aisle to the front. “Sorry for the scare,” he said, his face brighter now we’d stopped. “Enjoy your day.”
    “You too. Thanks, Jimmy.” I gave him a wave as I stepped off the warm bus and onto the curb.
    Behind me, CeeCee marched from the bus and gave me a great big launch hug that almost bowled me over. “Begonia Bed and Breakfast is thatta way,” she said pointing to the far end of town. “The only accommodation Ashford has.”
    “It’s like you can read my mind!” Though I suppose it was obvious, a girl heading into a small town would need a place to stay.
    She tapped her nose. “I always know. You go on and get settled then come back here for some breakfast. On the house,” she added as I went to protest. “You need a decent meal ‘fore you head off to the farm, if you sure that’s the kinda job you want.”
    ***
    Meeting the exuberant CeeCee put a smile on my face and took some of the ache away. I wasn’t used to being alone. Mom was always on my mind in Detroit, whether I was working or not. But the invisible cord that bound us was still there. Being so far away, the cord seemed infinite, and tugged, making me think she needed me.
    Soft winter sun warmed my back as I walked, my steps heavy. I was so far from home I was almost under a different sky. I took in the charming streetscape, mentally framing up every view as a potential sketch, one that I could post home, show Mom where I was.
    Cheery store owners nodded hello to me. I gave them a shy smile and averted my eyes. I headed toward the bed and breakfast, hoping the owner would have a room, something affordable too. When I passed a hardware store, I turned left at a