The bell above the door tinkled, bringing a gust of autumn air thick with the scent of woodsmoke and fallen leaves. "Morning! Two pumpkin spice lattes, please. Extra shot in one." The barista, her hair in a messy bun held together by a pencil, glanced up from the croissant she was buttering. "You're early. Big day planning the Harvest Festival?" "You know it. Mayor wants everything perfect. And we all know how persuasive he can be." A chuckle. "Actually, that’s not the only reason I’m here. Need one of your famous blueberry muffins. Mildred is bringing her quilting group over this afternoon, and I need to stay on her good side." "Ah, yes. Mildred and her formidable needlework. I’ll choose one with extra crumble topping, shall I?" "You read my mind."