Page 19 of Autumn After

“Flexible?”

“Well, do they just have to be apple-themed sweets or is the form the important part?”

“I don’t know. I mean, people usually come for the pies…” I looked to my dad to see what he was thinking, and he half shrugged. Some help.

“Would they come for cookies, hand pies, and maybe some apple dumplings? Smaller items than just whole pies. Like pastries or turnovers?”

“I think so.” My father grabbed the back of his neck. “But those need ovens too, don’t they?”

Willow smiled. “They do, but with a shorter cook time, they are more feasible with what we’ve got. Good thing my truck is ready.” He stepped out of my arms and turned slowly in the room, taking everything in. “Can I use this room as a prep area?”

“Wait, you think you can make them on time with only your truck?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. It’s not ideal, and I’ll need to start now if I’m going to get done in time for the festival, but I can make it happen with a little help.” He walked into the kitchen. “Nice counter space. Show me your apple peeler, though, because I am not doing that by hand.”

My dad burst out laughing, patting Willow on the shoulder. “You, my son, are exactly what this pack needed. Let me show you the peelers. I don’t understand the difference between them, but I know where they’re kept.” Dad led him to the pantry, where we stored our seasonal and less-used items.

I just stood there, once again in awe of my mate.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked. “You’ve been making cider all day. You have to be exhausted.”

“I am, but this is important. If we don’t have treats, then we lose revenue. If I can help avoid that, then I will. Now, who usually does all the baking? If they want to come help, we can get started. Maybe we’ll work out a shift system.”

I grinned and pulled Willow into a tight hug. I kissed his neck. “Thank you. So much, my mate. I’m so glad you’re here.”

He relaxed into my arms. “Me too, mate. Me too.”

Chapter 13

Willow

Somehow, I managed to do it. I got everything made in time for the festival. I’d made a lot of baked goods in my day, but the sheer number of cookies, hand pies, tartlets, muffins, and dumplings we cranked out—with the help of both Fern and Cedric and the whole crew of bakers in the pack—was beyond anything I had ever imagined. The whole pack assisted in different ways, too. The small ovens weren’t ideal, and not everyone had one in their home, but they helped supplement what I couldn’t finish in the truck.

And best of all, I got to interact with some of the pack members in a different way. Before the ovens went down, I’d been questioning my place here and if I should be leaving.

But now? Now I was feeling confident, like I belonged. Even the members who had scowled at me on the first day had me feeling welcome. What a difference a bazillion dozen cookies made.

On the day of the event, my truck was being used for the slushies, so we set up separate tables for the baked goods. There were just too many to handle from the truck. It was strange, having rows of tables across from my truck and watching someone else work inside. But Sid and his mate were doing a great job, and even though the truck would probably be sticky from the slushies, it was fun watching everyone get excited over them. Not that I had much time to watch—I spent most of my time either describing the baked goods, packing them, or taking money. Fern and Cedric helped, and we managed to get into a good rhythm.

It was hard to believe how many people were attending. According to Cedric, it wasn’t just wolves either; there were lions, tigers, and bears! I, of course, couldn’t tell the difference, but it was fun trying to guess and seeing if I was right. The festival was so popular, and the vibe was very different from the usual day-to-day one. It would be overwhelming if this was the norm, but today, it was exhilarating.

“We’re closing down for an hour,” Cedric said, resting a hand on my shoulder.

“Why?” I asked, surprised.

“Because at two o’clock, all the food concessions close for an hour so the people running them can either do a craft or paint a pumpkin or collapse into exhaustion, whatever they want.”

“Won’t you lose sales?”

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s tradition. Everybody knows, that’s why we had such a rush as soon as one o’clock hit.” He intertwined his fingers with mine. “Let’s go paint a pumpkin and enjoy the food—the stuff you didn’t have to personally make.”

“Food first,” I said. My stomach growled.

We went through the food line quickly. I grabbed turkey leg and a bowl of the butternut squash soup. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until I sat down and enjoyed the meal.

It was nice to sit quietly for a moment with my mate. He smiled at me from across the table. Then he reached over and swiped a bit of food off my chin.

“Enjoying yourself, mate?”

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