Page 23 of Axe-Rated Lumberjack

Esther laughed, clearly enjoying the exchange, and offered to show me her romance section.

I followed her eagerly.

The shelves held everything from sweet small-town love stories to gloriously over-the-top romantasy. A nearby display featured mysteries with beautifully illustrated covers, and beyond it stood a small section devoted to literary essays and poetry.

I could have spent the afternoon there.

Unfortunately, Sunday’s deadline would not appreciate my abandoning the recording schedule to indulge in recreational reading.

I picked up a slim mystery with an intriguing opening and a collection of essays I’d been meaning to read. Esther noticed me considering a third book and smiled.

“There’s no rule that says you have to finish one before buying another.”

“I’m afraid you’re speaking to someone who already has several unread books waiting at home.”

“Then they’ll have company.”

I laughed and added the third book to my purchases.

Hudson had been browsing a shelf near the window. When I returned to the counter, he glanced at the books in my arms.

“Find everything you were looking for?”

“And a few things I wasn’t. That’s usually how it works.”

“I figured as much. You walked in here looking like somebody had handed you the keys to a candy store.”

“Books are considerably better than candy.”

“I can see you came prepared to defend that opinion.”

Esther rang up my purchases while I admired the little handwritten recommendation cards tucked along the shelves. I loved that she’d taken the time to explain why she enjoyed particular books rather than simply listing their genres.

Before we left, she mentioned that Fall Fest would bring plenty of visitors into town over the weekend.

“I hope you’ll have time to enjoy some of it while you’re here,” she said.

“I’m planning to,” I replied. “I’ve seen the decorations, but I haven’t explored much yet.”

“You should. Everyone’s been working hard to make it special this year.”

I thanked her, promised to visit again if time allowed, and followed Hudson outside.

The early afternoon was brisk and bright. People moved along Maple Lane carrying shopping bags, and orange chrysanthemums spilled from wooden planters beneath the shop windows.

As we headed toward his pickup, Hudson reached for the bookshop bag.

“Want me to carry that?”

“Thank you, but I’ve got it.”

He smiled. “Should’ve known better than to get between you and your books.”

“I appreciate the offer. I simply have years of experience transporting unreasonable quantities of reading material.”

“Good to know. If the dragon job doesn’t work out, maybe I can hire you to organize the manuals at Crosscut.”

“I’d insist on categorizing them properly. You might regret it.”