Three Sisters Divided Over a Limestone Bakery Built in Nineteen Sixty-Eight

I said.

“Good,” Arthur said, closing his notebook. “Now you need to make sure you have someone to help you run the kitchen if the bank backs down.”

The local diner was busy at four in the afternoon, the booths filled with farmers and townspeople escaping the cold wind outside.

Sarah, the young home baker who had bought my green mixer, was waiting in the continue reading …