Maple Lane Mysteries Books 1-3 (EBOOK BUNDLE)

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Bernie Davis shot her a sympathetic grin. “Nearly home, love. It’s a shame you couldn’t come back more often. With not being well over the winter, Gran’s sorely missed you.” 


Was there a touch of censure in his statement? Maddie wouldn’t be at all surprised. They’d chatted about all sorts of things that weren’t too personal, apart from the initial ‘“Hi, how are you?”’ Clearly, the time had come for him to ask what the rest of the town would want to know.

As the only taxi driver in town and the odd-job man for most of the population, it was expected that he would have the latest gossip on anyone entering or leaving Maple Falls. Especially if the passenger was one of their own. 


Maddie sighed again. It was probably best to get a plausible response out there and avoid the question being asked hundreds of times. Even if it annoyed her to have everyone know her business. Like it or not, Maple Falls was probably never going to change regarding that.


“It has been too long. I’ve been working hard and saving for my own bakery. A vacation hasn’t been possible.”


Bernie grinned. “Well, you’re here now. Gran’s been telling us how well you’re doing, even after changing jobs. A bakery of your own in New York? You’ll be more famous around here than you already are when that gets out.”


Maddie brushed that aside, still feeling awkward at receiving praise from an entire town; especially when they’d expected more from the business degree scholarship she’d been awarded.

When she’d left college, she believed aiming for success in that arena was her future. After all, her marks in business studies had been what got her the scholarship. But as soon as the degree cooled in her hand and she was working her very first job, Maddie knew it was a mistake—a big one.

Madeline Flynn was not made for sitting behind a desk. No, she was a working-with-her-hands type of girl.
 She should have known, and maybe deep down she had but hadn’t wanted to admit it. At the time, accepting that scholarship meant she felt obligated to make it work and desperately made herself fit into that world. Every day was torture.

Even the wonderful outcomes when she helped people achieve their dreams didn’t make her feel the way she did when she was baking. But baking was a hobby, not something she could make a career of.

Or so she’d thought.