Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
TYLER
Edith shood them out to go to the Cinnamon Spice Inn.
“Go on,” she said, waving them out with one hand while the other adjusted the maple leaf garland draped along the front counter.
“I’ll watch the bookstore. I already called my granddaughter and gave her the heads up that you’re on your way.
She and Zach will meet you out front with shovels. ”
“Thank you, Edith! We’ll come back with the clue as soon as we find it,” Robyn promised.
They stepped outside into the crisp autumn air. Robyn wrapped her arms around her waist and tipped her face up to the sun.
“I’ve never seen a town do fall like this,” she said, almost to herself.
A chalkboard outside Anita’s Maple Leaf Café advertised a butternut squash soup and fresh bread lunch special, and Liam’s farm shop had crates of honey jars and beeswax candles stacked in the doorway alongside a new display of apple cider vinegar.
“It’s like the whole place just… transforms.”
Tyler smiled. He remembered thinking the same thing when he moved to town. It never got old. “Wait until you try Cassidy’s fall truffles. Her spiced pumpkin one is my favorite.”
Robyn’s eyes lit up. “Emily told me about those. Salted caramel apple and maple pecan too, right? She said the pumpkin ones keep selling out.”
“Twice this week already.” Tyler nudged her shoulder with his. “We should go. Before she sells out again.”
Robyn glanced at him sideways, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It’s a date.”
Tyler kept pace beside Robyn and tried not to sweep her off to the chocolate shop right then and there.
The wind shifted, and he caught the faint scent of her shampoo when the breeze lifted her hair.
He told himself not to read into that, not to let his brain start making a home out of moments that were still brand new, but his instincts were not cooperating, and neither was his body.
Madison was already waiting out front, a shovel propped beside her boot, her red hair bright against the green sweater that made her eyes look almost unnaturally emerald. Zach stood next to her with his own shovel and a flannel shirt rolled at the forearms, beard neatly trimmed.
“Okay,” Madison said, grinning. “Ready to do this?”
Robyn slowed, looking from them to the stretch of grass by the inn’s front walkway. “This tree doesn’t look that old…”
“It’s not,” Madison admitted. “The original maple was hit by lightning last fall. Zach and I replanted it. But according to the photo, it should be right here.”
“It should,” Zach agreed, already digging his shovel into the ground a few feet from the base of the new tree.
Tyler glanced at Robyn. She was in dress pants and ballet flats, her posture trying very hard to read composed while her eyes were bright with curiosity.
“You want the honors?” he asked quietly. “Feels right. It’s your great-grandmother who buried it.”
Robyn looked down at her shoes, then up at him with a helpless little laugh. “Maybe just the ceremonial first dig.”
Zach offered her the shovel handle. Robyn stepped forward, set the blade into the earth, and tried to press down.
Nothing happened. She shifted her weight, pressed again, then hopped and put both feet onto the top edge like she was hopping on a pogo stick. The shovel barely budged.
“This is harder than it looks,” she announced, cheeks flushed.
“Here, let me,” Tyler said, stepping in.
Robyn hopped down, handing him the shovel with a muttered, “Show-off.”
He dug the blade into the ground and drove it down with ease, the earth giving way on the first try.
He scooped up a full shovelful and tossed it aside, then did it again, more out of focus than effort.
CrossFit didn’t usually feel particularly romantic, but he mentally thanked every early morning he’d ever shown up when he wanted to stay in bed, because right now it was allowing him to make this look easy.
The wind swept down the sidewalk again, scattering leaves in a swirl. At the inn behind them, someone opened a door and the warm scent of baked goods invited them in.
“If this weather keeps up,” Madison said, rubbing her hands together, “I’m going to have to get us coffee and cinnamon rolls to keep us warm.”
Then a voice called out.
“Oy there, what’s going on out here?”
George—Madison’s dad—came around the side of the inn as if he’d been summoned by the sound of the shovel.
He wore a jacket that looked like it had survived a decade of bonfires and yard work, and his grin was all mischief and curiosity.
“Time capsule,” Madison said, gesturing dramatically. “Did you know there was one buried here?”
“Oh yeah,” George said easily, leaning forward to peer at Tyler’s progress. “Your mom mentioned it years ago. Truth be told, I forgot about it.”
Zach slipped his arm around Madison’s waist without thinking, pulling her in, keeping her close.
Tyler felt it like a tug behind his ribs. It wasn’t jealousy exactly. It was more like the stark realization that he didn’t have that with Robyn. That ease of being with someone who you knew wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He craved it so much it scared him.
He dug again, a little more vigorously, trying to focus on something he could control.
After a few moments, the shovel tip hit something. It wasn’t a rock, or a root; it was something metal.
Tyler froze for half a second, then angled the shovel and cleared earth away more carefully.
“I think I’ve got it,” he said, voice tightening with excitement.
Robyn stepped closer, her hand landing briefly on his arm.
“Don’t open it! Don’t open it. Not yet!” Elsie came sprinting across the sidewalk in high heels, phone already held out in front of her.
Mayor Bloomfield followed behind her, breathing harder than a man should after fifteen feet of jogging, but still wearing an utterly delighted expression.
“We need this content!” Elsie announced.
She planted herself near the hole and aimed her camera at him. “Okay. Now you may proceed,” she said with all the solemnity of someone presiding over a royal ceremony.
Zach crouched beside Tyler and helped loosen the dirt around the object. Piece by piece, the earth gave way, revealing a metal canister. It was about six inches across and just over a foot long, dulled by time but intact.
Tyler slid his hands under it and lifted it out, soil crumbling from the sides as if the ground didn’t want to give it up.
Robyn stepped forward, eager to see what was inside.
Tyler held the base steady while she reached for the lid, fingers careful as she started to unscrew it, and for a moment, the entire group seemed to hold their breath with her—Maple Falls, a handful of leaves, and a century-old secret about to be opened in broad daylight.
With the canister open, Robyn slid her hand inside and drew out a ribbon-tied bundle of pages—part two of the manuscript—along with another envelope, sealed with wax, just like the last one.
For a beat, no one spoke. Even Elsie lowered her phone.
Robyn’s fingers trembled slightly as she turned the bundle over, her thumb brushing the familiar looping handwriting on the first page. Tyler watched the emotion flicker across her face before she tucked it away again.
Without thinking, Tyler stepped closer. His hand found the small of her back, just a light touch, but it drew her subtly toward him all the same.
Robyn looked up at him, and for a moment it was just the two of them and the weight of those pages between her hands.
Elsie, of course, chose that exact moment to raise her phone again. Tyler heard the camera click, but didn’t think anything of it.
Kit stepped out on the inn’s front porch carrying a tray of cocktails in copper mugs, her dark bob swinging under her red bandana. She surveyed the group, the hole in the ground, the canister, and Robyn holding the manuscript.
“Oh, you found it,” she said, as if they’d merely located a misplaced set of keys. She set the tray down on the porch railing. “Good. I made autumn spiced mules to celebrate.”
She handed the first mug to Robyn, then one to Tyler, her dark eyes flicking between them. Tyler’s hand was still resting on Robyn’s back. He hadn’t moved it. He probably should have moved it.
Kit smirked. “Cute,” she said, nodding at the two of them.
Tyler felt his ears go warm, but if Robyn cared she wasn’t showing it. In fact, she leaned against his chest, arm slipping around his back. He held her there, drink in hand, and thought he’d never felt more complete in his life.
Madison broke the spell with a grin. “I don’t know about you,” she said, “but I think this calls for another book club meeting.”