Chapter 42
ShannonThe harvest season ended in October in Oregon. By the weekend before Thanksgiving, most of the local farmers shuttered the fruit and vegetable stands that bustled with activity throughout the summer.
However, Jonah and I found a farm roasting chestnuts and serving up hot cider made with apples grown within a mile of the place.
Nestled in a spot at a picnic table in the barn next to the country store, we watched couples and families stave off the growing night chill by huddling together and laughing over hot drinks.
“Oooh, crepes with chestnut cream and chocolate,” I exclaimed, reading the chalkboard menu.
“Do you want one?”
I grinned and popped another roasted chestnut in my mouth. “Yes. Absolutely.”
The squeal of children pierced the low hum of conversation in the
