Falling For You (Honey Leaf Lodge #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Violet

It was early morning in Buttercup Lake, and the town was already buzzing with excitement. Standing outside the coffee shop with my piping hot latte, I stared at the growing crowd. I couldn’t even comprehend what was genuinely taking place.

We had done it.

Last night, I was so exhausted that I slept like a log, but I knew what I’d dreamt about.

And I didn’t understand any of it. Sure, Abby’s talk with me wedged its way into my psyche, but there was also a part of me that probably hoped he meant some of the things he did and said.

But this morning wasn’t about any of that. Today, we needed to create awareness about the impending mega-resort, a colossal structure that would dwarf our quaint town and threaten the very essence of Buttercup Lake, next tomy family’s lodge. We couldn’t let it get squashed like an ant in a few years.

When I lay in bed last night, I thought about the math. The resort would probably take a couple of years to build and then a year or two to gobble us up. So, realistically, we had four or five years before things looked bleak?

Was that the silver lining?

I shook my head and looked at the people from all over the town. We had shop owners, teachers, farmers, andeven a few kids skipping their early-morning classes to join in.

It was a powerful moment.

I spotted some clever slogans on signs and smiled.

Millie was standing across the street with a steaming thermos of coffee in one hand and a sign that read Mega-Resort-Free Zone! in the other.

“Millie!” I called out, waving. “Thanks for getting so many people involved. I can’t believe they woke up early for this.”

Millie turned and flashed me a wide grin. “Ah, we wouldn’t miss this for the world, Violet.” She shook the thermos playfully. “Want some?”

I laughed. “No. I’ve got my latte for now!”

She patted my arm and winked. “Watch us go.”

Liam stood next to Evie and chatted as she held a Save Our Town! sign.

The sight warmed me up, and I smiled. I wondered if my brother had made any headway with her.

“Liam!” I shouted, making my way over. “I see you roped poor Evie into the cause.”

Evie chuckled. “Actually, it was Millie who called last night.”

I laughed. “Seriously? That woman is magical.”

“She might be,” Evie nodded, glancing at my brother. “I’m sorry about what happened with Owen.”

“Ah, can’t win them all,” I joked, rolling my eyes.

She gave me a sympathetic grin.

“Hey, Vi. Can you tell Evie how incredible my hard cider is? She doesn’t believe me.” He laughed. “I don’t even know if she believes I make it.”

I chuckled and nodded. “Oh, it’s good stuff. We keep telling him he needs to go into the adult beverage business.”

“And I just might, as long as the lodge is my first customer.” He laughed.

“That’s why we’re here, right? We must ensure Honey Leaf is still standing to order it.”

Liam nodded solemnly. “So true.”

Evie glanced at him. “So, what would you call your hard cider? Lickin’ Liam’s cider?”

He chuckled and shook his head, scowling. “Remind me never to use you as a name picker outer.”

She grinned. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It kind of was.” I laughed.

“In all seriousness, if I ever do it… I’m going to call it Red Barn Cider.”

“Wow. I’m impressed,” Evie said.

“Me too.” I nodded.

A bullhorn cracked, and I jumped about two feet off the ground. Millie glared at the contraption in her hand as she kept talking into it, but only squeals and booms came out.

Mr. Carter, one of the older retirees around town, walked over and helped her with it and started speaking. “This old man’s still got a few fights left in him. Judging by the crowd today, I’d say we all do.”

The crowd burst into cheers as he handed it back to Millie.

“We’re dividing our group into two. We need about half to stay here and the other half to march toward Vern’s house. We don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but we hope he notices the signs. So just walk by his driveway and comeon back to town. The goal is to make an impression.” Millie looked at me and nodded as one of her granddaughters stood beside her.

Grace waved her homemade sign proudly. It read, Buttercup Lake is ours. Not YOURS!

“Now, Violet. Can you come up here and say a few words?” Millie asked.

I hadn’t planned on giving a pep talk, but I felt the weight of the town’s eyes on me and smiled. I walked over to Millie and took a deep breath as I grabbed the bullhorn.

“Thank you all for being here.” My voice sounded stronger than I felt. “We’re not just standing here for a piece of land today. We’re standing here for our town, for everything Buttercup Lake represents. This place isn’t just about tourism or making a quick buck—it’s about community, about families who have lived here for generations. Buttercup Lake is about the small businesses that keep us going and the peace and quiet that makes this place special. Most importantly, it’s about being informed citizens. We should have heard about this purchase. But I feel it in my bones. It’s not too late to make a difference.”

I scanned the crowd, catching familiar faces constantly nodding.

It felt good to see.

“They think they can come in, throw money around, and change what we love about this town. But they’re wrong. We are stronger than that. We’ve built something here, and we won’t let them take it away from us! Today, we stand united, determined to protect what is ours.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and I raised my hand. “This is our home, and we fight to keep it cute.”

I caught sight of something that made my heart speed up. A local news van had pulled up with the large letters of WBOP emblazoned on the side.

A couple of crew stood at the back of the crowd, filming us.

If I had seen that before I started speaking, I would have frozen up like a popsicle.

But the sight sent a ripple of excitement and nerves through me now. I was on a roll.

“We can’t let big corporations come to our special part of the world and drive their agendas through the heart of it. We’re not against change. We’re against being excluded from the discussion. I hope today, that will change. Now, let’s make a difference.”

The crowd cheered as Millie took the bullhorn back and weaved through the crowd.

As I turned the corner near the post office, I saw Fifi standing with a group of teenagers. They all held brightly-colored signs. Fifi’s neon-orange one read, Lakes, Not Corporations! and I smiled.

I jogged over to my sister. “Fifi, look at you, rallying the next generation!”

She grinned and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, they just wanted an excuse to skip school.” She looked at the teenagers and wagged her finger. “But I’m telling them this is serious business!”

Isabelle flashed a wry grin. “We’re here to save the town, Violet!”

I gave her a playful nudge. “I’m counting on you, Isabelle. You ready to lead the charge?”

“No, but I’ll try.” She laughed.

“You’re doing amazing, Vi. Everyone’s here because of you.” My sister looked at the news crew. “Can you believe it?”

“It’s not just me. We’re all in this together.” I swallowed the lump of something I couldn’t figure out.

Pride?

Sadness?

Gratefulness?

“I guess we should start?”

Fifi nodded.

I tugged my jacket tighter around me to fend offthe breeze nipping at me.

The excitement was palpable. People were fired up, and it felt good—empowering, even. This protest felt like our chance to regain control after everything between Owen and Vern.

“Violet!” Millie waved me over. Her eyes twinkled with the same excitement I felt. “Look, the news is here! This is huge!”

“I know. I saw it. I think they captured our speeches.”

“Good. Good.” She clapped her hands.

Truthfully, I hadn’t expected media attention. But it made sense. Small towns talked, and word got around quickly.

This wasn’t just some small-town protest anymore. This was about preserving a way of life.

A reporter, a woman in her thirties with a blonde, blunt bob haircut and a microphone in hand, scanned the crowd, clearly looking for someone to interview. Before I could step back and disappear into the crowd, Millie waved her over.

“Darn it. You’re too fast,” I muttered, and Millie chuckled.

“This is Violet,” Millie said, her hand on my shoulder as she introduced me. “She’s leading the charge on this. You should talk to her.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but it was too late.

The reporter had already turned her attention to me, with her camera crew settling in beside her.

“Hi there, I’m Lisa Carter with WBOP,” she said, extending her hand. “I understand you’re one of the organizers of today’s protest?”

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered, shaking her hand.

She smiled warmly, clearly sensing my nerves. “Don’t worry, just be yourself. We’re live in about thirty seconds. I merely want to ask you a few questions about why the town is protesting and what this event means for Buttercup Lake. Introduce yourself first… and five-four-three-two-one.”

“Lisa, here with WBOP and one of the protest organizers. Can you tell us a little about yourself?”

My eyes widened as I stared into the lens, feeling entirely out of place.

The reporter gave a little nod.

And I stared into the large glass tunnel as I fell down the rabbit hole.

The reporter nodded again, and I cleared my throat.

“I’m Violet. My family owns the Honey Leaf Lodge, which is next to the property that’s being sold. In fact, we were promised first rights if it was sold, but I guess a verbal agreement only goes so far.”

I let out a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. This was important. This was our chance to make our voices heard. But my heart hammered in my chest, and my pulse raced between my ears.

Just don’t faint, I told myself.

I couldn’t screw this up.

The reporter took over, seeing the glaze in my eyes. “I count at least a few hundred protestors surrounding the town, and that’s saying something for a town of this size. Residents gathered early this morning to protest the sale of a large plot of land to out-of-town developers planning to build a mega-resort. Am I right in saying that?

I nodded, feeling the fight come back. “That’s correct. They’ve been working quietly with the village and the landowner to get this slid through without us knowing. Today, they sign on the dotted line. They’ll make it a done deal, but we want our voices heard. Something like this, without working with the residents, is bound to cripple our small businesses. We need to work hand in hand where growth is concerned.”

My heart slammed in my chest with every beat. But I looked directly into the lens and pretended I was speaking to Owen. “Buttercup Lake isn’t just a place. It’s a community. It’s where we’ve all built our lives, raised our families, and made memories. This resort… it’s not just going to change the landscape. It’s going to change everything. The businesses that have been here for generations—our lodge, the local shops—can’t compete with a massive corporate development. We’ll lose what makes this town special. If nothing else, today shows that we’re loyal to one another. And loyalty goes a long way.”

Lisa smiled. “And what would you say to the developers who argue that this resort will bring jobs and tourism to the area?”

“Sure. But how many Ma and Pa places will it wipe out?” I clenched my fists at my sides. Anger flared up inside me. “It’s not about bringing jobs or building tourism for them. They want the money that this will provide. It’s about greed.”

Lisa turned toward the camera and summarized what I’d said before wrapping up the segment. The camera turned off, and she spun around to greet me.

“Thank you, Violet. We’ll continue to follow this story as it develops. We got the morning crowd, and they’ll re-run the piece at noon and this evening.”

“Perfect.” I nodded, knowing tonight would be too late.

“Good job, honey,” Millie whispered.

I nodded, and my pulse finally slowed. Lisa and her crew moved on to interview a few more townspeople. When they walked away, I was swarmed by people congratulating me and patting me on the back for standing up for the town.

“You nailed it, Vi,” Liam said, hugging me. “You said exactly what needed to be said.”

“Yeah, but will it make a difference?”

“It’s a start,” Beck chimed in. “People are paying attention now. The media’s here. We’ve got momentum.”

I nodded, wishing I didn’t still feel so uneasy.

This fight wouldn’t be easy, and I wasn’t sure it would be enough.

As I glanced across the street, something caught my eye—someone, actually.

My heart skipped a beat as I spotted Owen leaning against a lamppost, watching the scene unfold.

He was holding a sign.

He wasn’t saying anything.

He was just… there.

His expression was a mix of emotions—something between pride and regret.

For a moment, our eyes locked. A wave of conflicting feelings rushed through me.

Anger.

Hurt.

Betrayal.

Sadness.

But also something I couldn’t quite name. I had wanted to forget him, just push him out of my mind entirely for the day… or the rest of my life.

Yet, seeing him there, watching everything unfold, stirred something inside me. I wasn’t ready to deal with any of it.

Owen gave me a slight nod, almost as if to say, “I see you. I understand.”

In fact, I could almost hear his voice now.

But I forced myself to turn away and focus on the crowd around me. I felt his gaze still on me, and for some reason, I felt a little better and stronger.