Page 1 of Finding Home

Chapter 1

Julie Harrison’s hands moved through the bread dough with more force than necessary. Flour dusted her knuckles as she kneaded against the stainless steel counter. The rhythmic push and fold should have been relaxing, but her mind kept wandering to the rejection emails sitting in her inbox.

Twenty-five years as an investigative journalist, and apparently, at fifty-nine, she was unemployable.

“Julie, you’re going to overwork that dough if you’re not careful.” Susan Timms appeared at her elbow, her gentle correction delivered with the warmth that made her such a wonderful cooking instructor. “Bread needs a firm hand, but not an angry one.”

Heat crept up Julie’s neck. “Sorry. I was distracted.”

“I could tell.” Susan’s hair caught the afternoon light streaming through the Welcome Center’s windows. “Why don’t you let your dough rest for a bit? Sometimes we all need a break.”

Julie stepped back from the counter, wiping her floury hands on her apron. Around her, the other students kept working. Maria Torres was rolling out pie crust with precise, measured strokes. Rachel Benson chatted with Beth Kowalski as they chopped vegetables for the soup they’d be making next. Laurel O’Riley worked quietly at the far counter, her focus entirely on the delicate pastry she was assembling.

Over the past two months, this cooking class had become Julie’s anchor—the one thing in her week that felt productive rather than desperately empty. When she’d arrived in Sapphire Bay, shell-shocked from her sudden layoff, she hadn’t known what she was looking for.

Certainly not sourdough starter techniques or the proper way to dice an onion.

“Who’s going to tonight’s meeting at the church?” Susan asked, moving to the center of the kitchen. “If you’re bringing food for the potluck, make sure you have your name on the container.”

“I’m bringing my enchilada casserole,” Maria said, not looking up from her rolling pin. “My husband finally got another job interview, so I’m celebrating.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Rachel turned from her cutting board. “When is it?”

“Next Tuesday. He knows one of the owners of the business, so we’re hopeful.”

Beth wiped her hands on a towel. “Well, I’m bringing potato salad and my famous brownies. Though I have to admit, I’m more interested in tonight’s meeting than the potluck. Did you all hear that they’re finally revealing the resort plans?”

Julie looked up. She’d heard bits and pieces about the proposed luxury resort at Finley Point—snippets of conversation at the general store and articles in the local paper. A developer from out of state was apparently behind it. There were big plans for the project, and lots of controversy.

It was the kind of story she would have spent weeks investigating in her previous life.

“Cole Morrison is supposed to be there in person,” Rachel added, her voice dropping as if sharing classified information. “I heard he’s been meeting with local business owners for the last three weeks.”

“I met him yesterday,” Maria said. “He came into the diner where I work part time. He’s very polite. Cole asked about local suppliers for the resort restaurant. He seemed genuinely interested in using Montana products.”

Laurel spoke for the first time. “I’ve heard he’s a hotshot developer who’s built resorts all over the country.”

Maria transferred her pie crust to a waiting tin. “He probably is. The suit he wore looked expensive, but he didn’t act as if he was better than anyone else. And he listened when I talked about my husband’s background in construction. I was happy when he said they’d be hiring locally for most of the positions.”

“That’s what he told me, too,” Beth added. “My daughter graduates from a culinary program next spring. I mentioned it when I ran into him at the hardware store, and he gave me his card. He said to have her contact him directly about kitchen positions.”

Laurel frowned. “How old is he?”

Maria opened an oven door and slipped the pie crust inside. “At a guess, I’d say he’s in his mid-sixties.”

Julie studied her resting dough. A developer who engaged with the community instead of imposing his vision was unusual. In her experience, most developers talked a good game, but ultimately prioritized profit over people.

But maybe she was being too cynical. Sapphire Bay could be different. Maybe Cole Morrison was genuinely committed to building something that benefited the town rather than exploiting it.

“I’m going to tonight’s meeting, too,” Rachel said. “My cousin works for the engineering firm handling the site preparation. She says this could completely transform the local economy. We’d have new jobs, more tourists, and better infrastructure.”

“Or ruin everything we love about this place,” Laurel countered quietly. “Developments like the resort bring too many visitors to an area, too much traffic congestion, and property prices go through the roof. My nephew won’t be able to buy a house here if prices go up much more.”

The comment hung in the air, tension creeping into the previously comfortable space. Julie understood both perspectives. Economic development could revitalize struggling communities, but it could also destroy the very character that made them worth preserving.

Susan moved between the counters, checking each student’s progress. “I think tonight’s meeting will give everyone a chance to voice their concerns and ask questions. Cole Morrison strikes me as someone who genuinely wants to do right by Sapphire Bay.”

“You’ve met him too?” Beth’s eyebrows rose.