Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,60

walk to work. She was harmless but thrived upon the curious energy of her customers. Despite all of this, I preferred her intrusive company to the self-pity and loneliness I experienced while moping around Black Manor. Keeping busy kept me from crying.

It’s been one month since Josiah forcefully plucked me from the Dormas Summer Solstice and used me as a pawn in emperorLackley’s political games. Since then, I’ve spent every waking moment trying to heal from the emotional scars left behind by Josiah’s betrayal and his confusing motives.

Most of my time of sadness was spent in a grueling, cleaning frenzy. I scrubbed every square inch of the Black Manor. Eventually, Cyler’s patience broke, and he begged me to start my job as the Baker at the General Store. I guess a month of crying and cleaning was wearing him thin.

I spent most my morning hiding from customers and becoming acclimated with the dusty and virtually unused bakery. I already had a few orders and needed to get to work. The wooden countertops were splintered, yet usable, but the oven wasn’t level, which would be a big problem. I sent a quick message to Kemper asking him to add it to the long list of repairs needed in the province. As usual, in his perpetually considerate nature, Kemper replied back with, “Whatever you need, Ash.” My cheeks flamed with appreciation, and Lois’ curious stare appraised me with a knowing smirk.

Over the last month, I’ve become more comfortable with voicing my needs, despite my sadness. Perhaps it was everyone’s willingness to please, or maybe I was evolving outside of my Walker mindset. Either way, I’ve come to heavily rely on Cyler, Maverick, Kemper, Jacob, Patrick, and even Huxley. I enjoyed the comfort that they gave me, and even more, I enjoyed learning to assert my independence, yet seek help when needed.

Cyler placed my first official order. He decided that the Solstice Festival cake didn’t technically count, since no one was able to enjoy it thanks to Josiah’s little kidnapping stunt. Two chocolate cakes—one for him and one for the rest of our little makeshift family—sat upon a cooling rack by the window, and I beamed with pride. Cyler’s encouragement and confidence in me was contagious. Apparently, once word went around that Cyler Black, fearless leader of Dormas, was ordering cakes from me, others promptly placed identical orders with equal enthusiasm.

I made quick work of mixing the thick batter for my other orders and pouring it into various cake pans. I made a note of what utensils and gadgets the Bakery lacked, then migrated to my other workstation and sat down. I started the peaceful task of painting a little wooden doll with a wild and crooked smile

There were about three dozen children total in Dormas, and Lois Caverly recently decided to add a toy section in her store to accommodate the growing number of children. Once Lois learned of my artistic whims, she promptly decided that Mark would carve them, I would paint them, and Lois would happily coordinate both of our efforts while she sipped lemonade and gossiped with visitors.

I was busy painting when the shop bell rang throughout the store, indicating that another customer had arrived. I put the finishing touches on the doll’s face, then nervously turned to greet the shop’s new guest. I wasn’t in the mood for another matchmaking attempt by Lois. She was determined to have me married off by sunset, and the overabundance of men in this town allowed for many opportunities to embarrass me. However, instead of being greeted by another nosy stranger, Jacob’s playful chocolate eyes met mine.

“Hey, sweetheart, Lois is putting you to work, I see.” He observed me with a smile while noting the paint that covered my dress and hands before carefully hugging me in greeting. He kept his chest a good six inches away from me while his hands loosely patted my upper back. It was rare that I finished a project without getting splatters of different colors on my nose and in my hair. After a few mishaps and ruined shirts, the guys learned to proceed with caution.

Jacob then inspected my batch of toys with a squinted eye and mock seriousness. I watched in amusement as he dusted off a few of the toys with dried paint and polished them with the corner of his sleeve. Since my involuntary visit with Lackley, I hadn’t seen Jacob much, mostly because Jules was back and had taken up permanent residence