Chapter 1

A quaint gas station loomed on the edge of Whispering Pines, Minnesota, and I pulled in, the familiar scent of gasoline filled the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. I stretched my arms, feeling the knots of tension loosen. Small towns always had a charm that attracted me, as a photographer and as a woman who loves beautiful places and friendly people. As I’d driven up from the Twin Cities, the landscape transformed into a picturesque scene of rolling hills and tall pines. The air held a crisp freshness that promised a reprieve from the city's hustle.

The doorbell jingled lightly as I stepped into the small convenience store, and I was greeted by the friendly cashier. Her name tag read 'Dorothy.' A silver-haired woman with a warm smile that suggested she'd seen a fair share of Whispering Pines seasons.

"Good afternoon! What can I do for you?"

"Just a fill-up and maybe a bit of information," I replied, glancing at the colorful postcards and local snacks neatly arranged on the shelves. "I'm on my way to Whispering Pines for the first time."

"Oh, you've picked a lovely time to visit. Summer here is something else. Friendly folks, the trails, the lake that’s perfect for evening strolls. We've got a little bit of everything—history, art, and a tight-knit community."

"Sounds like my kind of place. I'm actually here to visit a friend, Izzy Anderson. You know her?"

"Oh, Izzy's practically family here. She's been the librarian for a few years now, and the whole town adores her. Sweet, caring, and always with a book recommendation at the ready. You'll find her at the library or, more likely, at the art gallery tonight.”

I chuckled, remembering the countless hours Izzy and I spent poring over books. "Sounds like Izzy hasn't changed a bit since college."

As she filled me in on local eateries and charming spots, Dorothy eventually asked, "What brings you to Whispering Pines?"

I hesitated for a moment, wondering how much to share.

"I'm Amelia, but everyone calls me Mia," I said with a smile. "I'm a travel writer and photographer. Always on the move, chasing stories and capturing moments. Izzy invited me, and I thought I'd explore and maybe find some inspiration for my next project."

"A travel writer and photographer, eh? Must have some exciting tales to tell."

As Dorothy scanned my items, I said, "You could say that. I've chased sunsets in Santorini, danced under the Northern Lights in Iceland, and tasted street food in Bangkok. But there's something about small towns in the Midwest that always draws me in."

“Do you enjoy the nomadic lifestyle?"

I leaned against the counter, contemplating the question. The thrill of exploration, the taste of new cuisines, the sound of foreign languages—all of it fueled my passion. “I do! I really love traveling and not being tied down. Sure, it has its highs and lows, like every career. I love the freedom, the endless possibilities, but sometimes I wonder if I'm missing out on a different kind of adventure. Commitment and routine have never been my strong suits."

Dorothy pulled out a photo of a large family all gathered around the front porch of a house on a lake. “This is my bunch. All twenty-nine of us. I’ve got to say, I’ve never been to Bangkok, or Iceland, but I sure do know what it’s like to have deep roots. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Sometimes, the free spirit needs to put down some roots and find a place to call home. At least that’s my take on things.”  

Dorothy handed me my change, her eyes full of warmth. "Finding your own home can be an adventure in itself. We've had folks like you pass through, and some decide to stay. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for here in Whispering Pines. Sometimes, all it takes is the right place and the right people."

I think her as a took my bag of local goodies, and smiled. “Thank you, Dorothy. But right now I’m not looking for a place to put down roots. I’m looking for some good photographs for my next book.”

She waved goodbye as I left the gas station and continued up the road into Whispering Pines. As I crossed into the town, I could feel the charm that Izzy had spoken about.  It was in the tree line streets, the branches, making an archway over my head. As I drove along, the front porches with screen doors, and the kids riding their bikes, streamers fluttering in the breeze from the handlebars. Whispering Pines looked like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie.

As it turned onto the main street, I couldn't help but think about Dorothy’s words. Maybe there was more to life than constantly being on the move, looking for the next adventure.

But no. Not yet. Right now, I was ready to connect with my old friend, and explore this charming little town.

-

"Izzy Anderson, as I live and breathe!" I exclaimed, causing Izzy to look up, her eyes lighting up with delight.

"I can't believe you're finally gracing Whispering Pines with your presence," Izzy teased, setting her book aside to stand and envelop me in a warm hug.

"Well, when I heard about the drama with the library, I knew I had to see what all the fuss was about."

"You have no idea. It was like a real-life courtroom drama. How was your drive?" Izzy asked as we settled into our seats.

"Long, but the scenery around here is breathtaking. I could practically hear the whispers of the pines. I can see why you love this place."

As we approach the counter to order, Izzy recommended the cinnamon rolls. I couldn't help but glance around the cozy bakery. It had that small-town warmth that was hard to find in the bustling cities I was accustomed to. The atmosphere was inviting, and it seemed like the perfect place to catch up with Izzy.

"I still can't believe you're here. After all those adventures you've had, I half-expected you to be off exploring some undiscovered island or writing about your latest escapade in a far-off land.

“Remember that crazy road trip we took? We practically lived on snacks and instant noodles."

"Oh, how could I forget? And your attempts at setting up the perfect campfire? We nearly burned down the entire campground.”

"Good times," I said, savoring the memory. "Speaking of good times, how did everything turn out with the library? And more importantly, how are you?"

"Whispering Pines is the same charming town that I’ve always loved, but with a bit more life these days. The library saga turned into a real page-turner, but we saved it, thanks to Ethan's art and the town rallying together. Ethan... he's been amazing through all of this. It's like he appeared out of nowhere, spilled coffee on himself and the library floor at the read-a-thon, and suddenly became my partner in library-saving crime."

"Ah, the artist who stole the librarian's heart. Sounds like you've been living in your own novel. I'm impressed," I teased, earning a playful shove from Izzy.

"Charlie played a huge part too," Izzy added, a fond smile playing on her lips. "She helped transform that abandoned building into Ethan's art gallery. It's become a hub for artists and art lovers in the town."

"Charlie? Our Charlie?” I said, remembering our college days when Charlie's sketches filled the margins of her notebooks.

“The very same. She worked her magic on the place. Now, Ethan has a beautiful space to showcase his art, and the town couldn't be happier."

"Passion is contagious," I mused, sipping the coffee that the waitress had placed in front of me. "I'm glad things worked out for him, and for you too."

"Every day is an adventure with him. But enough about us. What's happening in Mia Sullivan's world? Any handsome strangers in your tales?"

“Let's just say I've been more committed to my passport than any person lately.”

“Well, if you change your mind, Whispering Pines has its fair share of charming locals too," Izzy teased, her gaze flickering with mischief. “And who knows, maybe one day you'll find a story worth staying for."

Just as I was about to reply, the door to Northern Pines Pastry chimed, announcing the arrival of someone new. In walked a rugged, earnest-looking man, his deep brown eyes like the essence of the untouched wilderness itself—quiet but strong. A genuine, unforced smile played on his lips, and I couldn't help but be intrigued.

"Speak of the devil- or charming locals," I said. “Who is that?”

The devil in question walked to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.

“That’s Ben Reynolds, our local wildlife biologist.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Not bad looking for a scientist. I generally picture scientist, as being a little… geeky, I guess.”

Izzy laughed. “Oh, not Ben. He spends almost all his time outdoors.”

As we spoke, he got his coffee and cinnamon roll, and looked around the bakery. There were no empty chairs other than the one at our table. I felt my cheeks flush a bit as he walked toward us.

"Hey, Izzy," he greeted us, his gaze shifting to me. "Mind if I join you? It's busier than usual today."

"Not at all, Ben. Meet Mia, my college friend. Mia, this is Ben.”

“Nice to meet you, Mia. Hope you're enjoying your time in Whispering Pines." Ben extended a hand, and I shook it, immediately drawn to the warmth in his greeting.

"Izzy has been an excellent guide so far. She brought me to this cute little bakery. And the cinnamon rolls!"

"Well, Whispering Pines has a way of growing on you," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "You'll find it hard to leave once it does. So, what brings you to Whispering Pines?" Ben asked.

"Ah, the million-dollar question." I grinned. "I'm here on a whim, actually. Izzy and I go way back from college, and I thought, why not explore her charming little town?"

"Sounds like you're living life to the fullest."

"That's the plan," I said, appreciating the genuine conversation. "So, what's it like being a wildlife biologist around here?

"Izzy told you about me, I see. It's rewarding. Protecting the local ecosystem, ensuring the well-being of the wildlife. And it's always changing, which keeps things interesting."

"Must be challenging too," I added, genuinely intrigued.

"Absolutely. But it's a labor of love. You get to see the impact of your efforts on the environment."

I nodded, absorbing the sincerity in his words. It was refreshing to meet someone so dedicated to their work.

"It has its moments," he replied, a hint of modesty in his tone. "But sometimes, visitors can make it a bit challenging." He suddenly looks horrified. “Oh. Not you, of course! I just mean…” His cheeks were turning red as he spoke. “I mean, people who aren’t aware of the environment around them. Who just marching with their cameras, wanting photographs of the local wildlife, without noticing what damage they are doing. I didn’t mean you. I know you wouldn’t do that. It’s mostly the photographers.”

“Photographers?” I asked.

He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Well, sometimes they get so caught up in capturing the perfect shot that they inadvertently disturb the natural habitats. It's crucial to strike a balance between capturing beauty and respecting the environment."

A subtle shift in the atmosphere made me aware of the irony in the situation. "Funny you should mention that. I happen to be a travel writer and photographer in town for, you guessed it, pictures."

Ben's cheeks turned a darker shade of red that almost matched the checkered curtains on the window. "I didn't mean to offend. It's just, sometimes, they unintentionally disrupt the habitats we work so hard to protect."

My enthusiasm waned, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "So, you’re saying I'm a disruptive force in your ecosystem?"

He stumbled over his words, clearly flustered. "No, not at all. I didn't mean to— I didn't mean to imply that all photographers are the same. It's just that sometimes, the enthusiasm gets a bit... misplaced."

I sighed, realizing he meant well. “Relax, Ben. I'm here to document the beauty, not disrupt it. I'm a travel writer, not a troublemaker. And I’m a much more likely to photograph this bakery than any wildlife.”

"Fair enough. I'm sorry if I came across as overbearing."

I couldn't help but tease him a bit. "No harm done. Just make sure your wildlife stays out in the wild, and not in the town I’m here to write about and photograph, and we won't have any issues."

As Ben awkwardly finished his cinnamon roll and excused himself, Izzy shot me a teasing look. "Looks like you've made quite an impression on our local biologist."

"Well, I am known for leaving a trail of chaos in my wake."

Izzy laughed. "I remember that. Ben's a good guy, but he takes his wildlife very seriously."

"Noted. No wildlife disturbances from me."

We lingered at Northern Pines Pastry, where customer after customer came in for the cinnamon rolls –the town's not-so-secret guilty pleasure.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a text message from my editor, Marianne. As I read it, the feeling of dread settled over me. This was not the news I was hoping for.

"So, spill it," Izzy said, a knowing glint in her eyes. "You’re looking a little tense. And I sensed it even before Ben made his appearance. So, I know it isn’t just the tall, dark, and handsome stranger. And whatever was in that text message made you look even more upset. What’s going on?"

I sighed. "The funding for my photography trip this summer is a little questionable. My editor is more interested in focusing on the French countryside this summer. She just offered to send me to France for the summer, but honestly, I think I need a break from jetlag."

"France versus Whispering Pines? What are you doing here? I’d be in France in a heartbeat!”

"I've been traveling so much, and I miss spending time in the States. I just want a summer with friends, and where better to spend it than right here? When I first proposed it, last winter, my editor was very excited. She agreed to fund my trip and gave me a list of specific stories she wanted. I booked everything, and then, at the last minute, she said she might have to pull my funding. I don’t know if I should still be here, or if I should take one of the remaining slots in France. I adore the French countryside, but I really want to be here this summer. I haven’t had any time to connect with friends in ages. Globetrotting is fun, but sometimes we need human connection. And I miss our time together in college. I figured this would be a great way to combine work and reconnecting."

Izzy nodded. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don’t know. I’m going to think about it tonight. I don’t need to let her know until tomorrow afternoon."

"Well, you're always welcome here. And if you stay, perhaps you could include a few photos of the local wildlife biologist!"

“Stop it. Anyone who can talk that way about photographers is not for me. Besides, I’m sure he’s already got a girlfriend.”

“Actually,” Izzy said, “I don’t think he does.”