"Did he?" I glanced at Micah, who had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
"Only good things," Claire assured me. "He mentioned you might be interested in our book club. We meet every other Thursday, and we're always looking for fresh perspectives."
The casual invitation, the assumption that I'd be sticking around long enough to join groups and make commitments, made something flutter in my chest. "That sounds lovely."
"Excellent. Micah has my number if you decide you want in." She rubbed a hand over her round pregnant belly. “I’ll be going on maternity leave from the store soon, but I’ll still be dropping into the book club. If you can’t reach me, Hollis who owns this place, can fill you in.”
We left the bookstore with a small stack of books by local authors Claire had insisted I "simply must read," and continued our wandering tour. The general store was exactly as advertised, a place where Mrs. Patterson held court behind the register, dispensing advice and gossip with equal enthusiasm.
"Micah, sweetheart!" she called as we entered. "And this must be Kit. I heard you've been causing quite a stir."
"Causing a stir?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"Reed was in this morning, going on about security systems and proper locks. Jonah stopped by for Charlie's favorite cerealand mentioned family dinners. And now here you are with our bachelor baker, looking absolutely lovely."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks. "I'm just getting to know the town."
"Of course you are, dear." Mrs. Patterson's smile was knowing but kind. "Micah, you make sure you show her the overlook. Best view in town, especially this time of day."
As we left the store, Micah shook his head with fond exasperation. "Small towns," he said. "Privacy is a foreign concept."
"They seem to care about you," I observed.
"They do. It took some getting used to after city life, but it's nice having people who notice if you don't show up where you're supposed to be."
We walked through the small park, where a playground sat empty in the afternoon lull and walking paths wound between ancient oak trees. Micah pointed out Charlie's favorite fossil hunting spots and the bench where the high school kids liked to sit after school, sharing the kind of local knowledge that only came from truly belonging somewhere.
"There's the overlook Mrs. Patterson mentioned," he said, gesturing toward a path that led up a small hill. "Want to check it out?"
The climb was gentle, winding through trees beginning to show autumn colors. At the top, a wooden bench faced out over the valley, offering a view of Hollow Haven spread below with mountains rising in the distance.
"Oh," I breathed, sinking onto the bench. "This is beautiful."
"One of my favorite spots," Micah said, settling beside me with careful space between us. "I come up here sometimes when the bakery gets overwhelming, or when I need to remember why I chose to stay."
"And why did you choose to stay?" I asked, turning to study his profile.
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the view. "Because it felt like a place you could grow roots, not just patch holes," he said finally. "After Laura left, I was just... surviving. Going through the motions. Liv brought me here thinking it would be temporary, but something about this place made me want to try again."
"Try again?"
"To build something. To be part of something bigger than my own damage." He looked at me then, his brown eyes warm and serious. "What about you? What made you choose Hollow Haven?"
The question was gentle, not pushing, but it still made my chest tighten. "I needed somewhere quiet," I said carefully. "Somewhere I could figure out who I was without... external pressures."
Micah nodded like he understood exactly what I wasn't saying. "External pressures can be hell on the soul."
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping our coffee and watching the town below. A few cars moved slowly down Main Street, and I could just make out people walking on the sidewalks, living their quiet lives in this place that felt like a snow globe version of what home should be.
"Can I ask you something?" Micah said eventually.
"Sure."
"What did you do before? For work, I mean. You mentioned design."
The question was innocent enough, but it still made my shoulders tense. "Marketing design, mostly. High-end clients who demanded perfection and weren't particularly kind about mistakes." I picked at the cardboard sleeve on my coffee cup. "Itwas... intense. High pressure. Not much room for creativity, just executing other people's visions."
"That sounds exhausting."