Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
PENELOPE
T he predawn quiet of Caldwell’s Cottage Bakery wraps around me like a warm blanket as I knead a fresh batch of dough. The familiar motions are soothing, allowing my mind to wander as my hands work. The yeasty aroma of rising bread mingles with the sweet scent of cinnamon rolls baking in the oven.
As I work, I can’t help but replay moments from my recent dates with Nick in my mind. A smile tugs at my lips, unbidden but not unwelcome.
“Well now, that’s a sight I haven’t seen in a while.” Grandpa Henry’s voice breaks through my reverie. I look up to see him leaning against the doorframe, a knowing twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
“What’s that?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant as I turn my attention back to the dough.
“That dreamy smile of yours,” he says, moving to stand beside me at the worktable. “I’d wager a dozen of my best croissants that a certain Kringle has something to do with it.”
I feel heat rush to my cheeks, and I’m sure they’re as rosy as the apples we use in our pies. “Grandpa,” I protest weakly, but I can’t quite meet his eyes.
He chuckles softly, picking up a rolling pin and starting on the pastry dough. “It’s nice to see you so happy, sweetpea. You deserve it, you know.”
His words warm me more than the ovens ever could. For a moment, we work in companionable silence; the only sounds are the soft thud of dough on the wooden worktable and the distant hum of the refrigerators.
“You know,” Grandpa says after a while, his voice taking on that storytelling tone I’ve known since childhood, “I remember when I first fell in love with your grandmother. It was unexpected.”
I look up, intrigued. Grandpa doesn’t often talk about Grandma Rose, who passed away before I was born. “Really?”
He nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “I didn’t have a plan for my life. I drifted into jobs, looking for something that felt like a calling, and she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I thought there was no way she’d look twice at me.”
As he continues his story, detailing their first meeting and the whirlwind romance that followed, I feel a pang in my chest. Unbidden memories of Noelle’s father surface—his charming smile, the grand promises, and ultimately, the betrayal and abandonment that left me alone and pregnant .
I must have tensed up because Grandpa stops mid-sentence. “Penelope? Are you alright?”
I force a smile, pushing the painful memories aside. “I’m fine, Grandpa. Just... thinking.”
He gives me a look that says he doesn’t quite believe me, but doesn’t push. Instead, he gently pats my hand, leaving a dusting of flour on my skin. “Love can be scary, sweetpea. But sometimes, the things that scare us the most are the ones most worth pursuing.”
“Who said anything about love?” I ask. My phone buzzes on the counter. I wipe my hands on my apron and check the screen, my heart doing a little flip when I see Nick’s name.
It’s a picture—a beautiful sunrise over the harbor, the sky painted in shades of pink and gold. Below is a simple message.
Nick: Saw this and thought of you. Hope it brightens your morning as much as you brighten mine.
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. It’s such a small thing, but the thoughtfulness behind it warms me to my core.
“I take it that’s from Nick?” Grandpa asks, not even trying to hide his grin.
I nod, still staring at the picture. “He sent me a photo of the sunrise.”
Grandpa sighs dramatically, earning him a playful swat with my dish towel.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything about love,” he teases.
Later that morning, I’m arranging croissants in the display case when our first customer arrives. I have the baby monitor on the counter to let me know when Noelle wakes up. She likes to sleep in on the weekends. Though how she knows it’s a weekend is magic to me.
“Good morning, Penelope, Henry!” Mrs. Johnson’s cheerful voice fills the shop. She’s been coming to the bakery every Saturday morning for as long as I can remember, always eager for both fresh bread and the latest town gossip.
“Good morning, Mrs. Johnson,” I greet her warmly. “The usual for you today?”
I box up her order—two croissants and a loaf of sourdough.
“Isn’t it wonderful how this Bazaar is bringing the whole community together?” she asks.
I nod, unable to keep the pride from my voice. “It really is. Nick’s put so much work into it.”
“He’s such a kind young man,” Mrs. Johnson continues. “You know, I saw him helping old Mr. Peterson shovel his driveway the other day. And I hear he’s wonderful with children, too.”
As Mrs. Johnson chatters on about Nick’s various good deeds around town, I find myself smiling. It’s true - in the short time he’s been in Founder's Grove, Nick has touched so many lives, including mine and Noelle’s.
After Mrs. Johnson leaves, I turn to find Grandpa watching me with a knowing look.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
He shakes his head, smiling. “Nothing, sweet pea. I feel like you might have something you want to talk about, though. You’re wound up tighter than a Jack-in-the-box .
A lump forms in my throat. “I hate it when you see through me like that.”
He laughs easily. “It’s for your own good. Spit it out, and it won’t be so bad.”
I screw up my courage and blurt out, “What if I’m wrong about him? What if I let myself fall and end up getting hurt again?”
Grandpa comes around the counter, enveloping me in a warm, floury hug. “Oh, my dear girl. I know you’ve been hurt before, and I know you’re worried about protecting that precious little girl of yours. But from everything I’ve seen and heard, Nick’s different. He’s kind, he’s genuine, and he cares for both you and Noelle.”
I lean into his embrace, drawing comfort from his familiar scent of yeast and cinnamon. “I know, Grandpa. At least, my head does. My heart’s a big ol’ scaredy cat.”
He pulls back, looking me in the eye.
Before either of us can say anything, the door opens. I step away from him and clear my throat. When I look up, my heart skips a beat. Nick is standing in the doorway, a gentle smile on his face and a beautiful gift basket in his hands.
“Good morning,” he says, his green eyes twinkling as they meet mine. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Grandpa says, giving me a little nudge.
Nick steps inside, the scent of pine and winter air clinging to his coat. “Well, two things, actually. First, this is for you, Penelope.” He holds out the gift basket. “It’s from Gail. She wanted me to tell you that she loved meeting you and Noelle, and she hopes you’ll enjoy this. ”
I take the basket, touched by the gesture. Inside, I find an assortment of luxurious bath products - a lavender-scented bubble bath, a plush robe in a soft shade of blue, and a candle that smells like fresh snow and evergreens.
“This is so thoughtful,” I say, my voice soft with emotion. “Please thank Gail for me.”
Nick nods, his smile warm.
“And the second reason for your visit?” Grandpa prompts, a knowing glint in his eye.
“Ah, yes,” Nick says, turning his attention to the display case. “I need to pick up some sustenance for Oliver. He’s been working non-stop on the train ride for the Bazaar and hasn’t taken a break to eat. I thought some of your pastries might lure him out of the workshop for a few minutes.”
As I box up an assortment of pastries for Oliver, I can’t help but marvel at Nick’s thoughtfulness. He’s always thinking of others, always going out of his way to make people feel cared for.
“You know,” Grandpa says, leaning on the counter, “I’ve been hearing a lot about this Bazaar of yours, Nick. It sounds like you’re really bringing the community together.”
Nick ducks his head modestly, but I can see the pride in his eyes. “I’m just trying to spread a little Christmas cheer.”
“Well, you’re doing a wonderful job,” I say, handing him the box of pastries. Our fingers brush as he takes it, and I feel a spark of electricity at the contact. There’s definitely an attraction between us. My eyes drop to his lips .
“Thank you,” he says softly. For a moment, the rest of the world seems to fade away, and it’s just the two of us. I continue to stare at his mouth, wondering what it would taste like, feel like.
Grandpa clears his throat, breaking the spell.
Nick smiles softly. “Hey, I was wondering... would you and Noelle like to join me for a walk around town this evening? They’ve put up all the Christmas lights, and I thought it might be nice to see them together.”
My heart does a little flip. “That sounds lovely,” I say, surprised by how eager I am at the prospect.
“Great!” Nick’s face lights up. “I’ll pick you up around seven if that works?”
I nod, already looking forward to it. Maybe it’s time to stop being so afraid. Maybe it’s time to take a chance on happiness.
Noelle’s morning babble comes through the speaker, and I take off my apron and rush up the stairs. I have to face the truth that there’s no guarantee of happiness, but I find the courage to reach for it anyway.