CUMBERLAND — A lot of doors go unlocked in rural Maine, but they don’t typically have arrows pointing toward them from signs along the road, inviting people to come take what they want from inside.

And yet, in the corner of a big white barn on Winn Road about a half mile off Route 9, anyone can walk in at anytime of day and comb through coolers of grass-fed beef, grab a carton of eggs or select snacks from the shelves. Frozen pizzas and pints of ice cream are particularly popular late at night.

The farm store at Pine Ridge Acres never closes and has no cashier. Instead, it relies on a log where customers are asked to write down their name, what they’re buying and how they intend to pay for it — by cash or check (slid into a locked box beside the counter), credit card or Venmo (through QR codes posted on a chalkboard).

On its face, the business model doesn’t seem like it should work, but the store’s shrinkage rate is right around the industry average and, for theft in particular, is far below it.

Store manager Sierra Smith said customers from elsewhere often comment on how it would never fly where they live. While that’s tempting to take as a compliment to Mainers and our relative trustworthiness, in reality, there are other forces at play.

ON THEIR HONOR

In some ways, the farm store is just a larger version of the honor-system stands found alongside roads throughout Maine, where people sell eggs, produce, flowers, firewood and baked goods in front of their houses, their cash boxes now often accompanied by Venmo handles or QR codes.

At least a few others operate on a similar scale to Pine Ridge Acres, including the newly opened East Pine Plant Shop on Route 302 in Windham and, most famously, Momo’s Cheesecakes in Ellsworth, which started with a cooler in a garage 10 years ago and now stocks 60 flavors of its signature dessert.

When East Pine’s owners went on Facebook in March to talk about their first theft, they said their intention was not to shame the perpetrator but to commend the customer who witnessed the incident and immediately messaged them, leading to swift action by law enforcement.

Momo’s, too, has had customers call up with descriptions of people they suspect of not paying, said Nadine Barnes, sister and assistant to Brenda “Momo” Ledezma, who owns the business with her husband, Andres. When they post about thefts on social media, Barnes said, they blur out the faces because they know how harshly supportive customers will react.

The Ledezmas have taken a unique approach to dealing with people who steal from them. After catching a man repeatedly taking cash, they told him they wouldn’t involve the police if he used the money to buy Christmas gifts for them to donate to kids in need. Another time, when a couple living out of their car was taking cheesecake without paying, the Ledezmas asked them to instead let them know if they’re hungry, then bought them takeout and a hotel room for the night.

Momo’s initially used the honor system out of necessity; Brenda Ledezma was working full-time as a bartender and couldn’t be at both places. It still relies on the savings from labor to operate, but the concept has become fundamental to the business’ philosophy as well, helping to forge a closer connection to customers, despite not physically interacting with them.

“We really do take pride in trusting people to do the right thing,” Barnes said in an email. “We feel like, in today’s world, saying we trust you goes a long ways.”

A VALUED AMENITY

Pine Ridge Acres, which raises cows and keeps chickens, started off by selling a few cuts of beef and some eggs out of a mini fridge in a shed. As demand grew, so did the store, and it now carries an array of New England-made products.

Like Momo’s, it’s discovered benefits beyond the savings from additional staff, which the small farm couldn’t afford to have on its tight margins, and obviously not around the clock, said Smith, the store manager.

Those hours are one of the benefits. When people ask Smith why the store stays open all night, she gives a simple reason: Customers come in.

Often, it’s people who work late shifts and have few options for food when they get out. Instead of buying something processed from a convenience store or drive-through, they can make themselves a grass-fed steak.

There are also the late-night snackers who live in town. Sara Maloney usually shops in the morning, mostly for eggs and meat, but she’s been there as late as 9 p.m. to pick up a pint of ice cream. She realizes she could still go to Hannaford then, but said she wouldn’t feel motivated to navigate a supermarket at that time of night.

Part of the draw of Pine Ridge Acres is the ease and solitude of the shopping experience, which often takes place without any human interaction at all. That’s different than at most stores its size, Smith said, where being alone with a staff member can feel awkward or high-pressure.

“For all the introverts out there, it’s a lovely place to shop,” she said.

Of course, you are being watched at Pine Ridge Acres, too; cameras around the store capture people coming and going. Smith reviews the footage later in fast motion, a task that takes about an hour a week. Reconciling the log takes another hour or two, depending on the number of discrepancies.

Sometimes the internet connection’s not great and Venmo payments don’t go through. Sometimes customers get distracted by their kids or a neighbor coming in the door. Very rarely do people intentionally steal, and the handful of times it’s happened, Smith said, the culprit has been caught.

Tracking down non-payments is also part of Smith’s job and can be resolved as simply as by sending a Venmo request. When she’s exhausted all other methods of locating people, she posts a list, in the store and on social media, of partial names of those she’s trying to reach.

If other customers recognize the names, they’ll tell Smith where she can find them. Sometimes, they offer to cover the costs themselves.