Self-conscious, Maddie once again brushed at herself, hoping the crumbs were long gone and that maybe her hair wasn’t as bad as it felt.

The woman smiled. “The Mouse.”

Well, hell. Maddie blew out a breath, telling herself it was silly to be insulted at the truth. “Yes.”

“That’d make you the smart one, then. The one who ran the big, fancy production company in Los Angeles.”

“Oh.” Maddie vehemently shook her head. “No, I was just an assistant.” To an assistant. Who sometimes had to buy her boss’s underwear and fetch his girlfriend’s presents, as well as actually produce movies and TV shows.

“Your momma said you’d say that, but she knew better. Knew your worth ethic. She said you worked very hard.”

Maddie had worked hard. And dammit, she had also pretty much run that company. May it rot in hell. “How do you know all this?”

“I’m Lucille.” When this produced no recognition from Maddie, she cackled in laughter. “I actually work for you. You know, at the inn? Whenever there’s guests, I come in and clean.”

“By yourself?”

“Well, business hasn’t exactly been hopping, has it? Oh! Wait here a second, I have something to show you-”

“Actually, I’m sort of in a hurry…” But Lucille was gone. “Okay, then.”

Two minutes later, Lucile reappeared from the gallery carrying a small carved wooden box that said RECIPES, the kind that held 3x5 index cards. “This is for you girls.”

Maddie didn’t cook, but it seemed rude not to take it. “Did Phoebe cook?”

“Oh, hell, no,” Lucille said with a cackle. “She could burn water like no other.”

Maddie accepted the box with a baffled “Thanks.”

“Now, you just continue down this road about a mile to the clearing. You can’t miss it. Call me if you need anything. Cleaning, organizing… spider relocation.”