Chapter 24
The next time Eric went into town, he stopped by the Sweet Suite Bakery to pick up breakfast. It was the least he could do to support Deb’s bakery. For the first time he had hope. Laurie said Deb had offered to help raise funds to keep the dairy running. After all, the Sweet Milk Dairy supplied all the fresh milk for their bakery, for all the local ice cream shops. Inside, a bucket sat on the counter, filled with bills. The front said: Save Sweet Milk Dairy with their logo.
Tears welled in his eyes.
He needed more sleep.
Also, they handed out fliers for a community bake sale at the Sweet Suite Bakery, with a hundred percent profits going to save the dairy.
Coco came out wearing one of the shirts from his dairy. “I bought it from your new online store.” She slapped a hand on the bucket of cash. “And these reused frosting buckets are all over town. All the small business owners agreed to put them in their stores. After our community bake sale, I’m sure we’ll have that money raised in no time.”
Eric’s eyes stung with held-back tears. “Thank you. I just wanted to get a muffin before heading back to work.”
Coco handed him a muffin from the case. “Free of charge.”
He dug into his wallet for cash. “Come on, we’re not destitute.”
“Then donate your money to the cause here.” With a sly smile, Coco pointed to the bucket.
He stuffed a few dollars into the repurposed frosting bucket. “Why the change in heart?”
“Charlotte told us you’d have to sell the dairy.”
He warmed at the mention of her name. He should’ve known she was behind all this do-gooding. “Where is Charlotte?”
“She’s going door-to-door with Aunt Deb asking for donations either to the bake sale or to the fund.”
“Oh?”
“She says she’s trying to make amends for the harm she caused your family.”
Warmth spread to his chest. “She didn’t have to do anything.”
“Charlotte wants you to stay, you know.”
“Do you know what street she was on?” Eric hoped he could run and join her, perhaps give her a kiss as a thank you.
Coco pointed out the large glass windows. “Maple or Church Street.”
The door pinged.
Deb entered, wrapped in a scarf that nearly covered her face.
Charlotte came in after her, eyes bright, her cheeks rosy. “Good news!” She pulled off gloves. “We’ve got lots of donations for the bake sale. And some of the other business owners donated things for a silent auction.”
“We’ll get that money soon!” Deb unwound the scarf.
Eric pulled Charlotte aside. “Have you had a chance to talk to Jules yet?”
“I haven’t seen him for a few days now.”
“You’re worried he’s not communicating with you anymore.”
“I don’t think we should set our hopes on money that may or may not be there. The bake sale and the donations will be enough.”
Eric frowned. Sugar Creek was still a small town. And although the people were generous, there was only so much people could sacrifice.
“Are we still going to the Halloween dance?”
Eric had completely forgotten about his invitation. “If you still want to go.”
“We have to do a couple’s costume.”
His mind was too occupied with other things to be able to think about something like costumes. “Tell you what. You come up with the costumes, and I’ll wear whatever you get me.”
A sly smile crossed Charlotte’s face, then it melted into an evil grin. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He glanced askance. “Should I be worried?”
Charlotte had baked a whole list of items for the bake sale. Tara had donated a whole bushel of apples and gallons of apple cider.
First order, a twist on a classic New England treat of whoopee pies: Apple Cider Whoopee Pies. She made jars of apple butter, soft ginger cookies, pumpkin tartlets, apple dumplings, apple tarts, apple pies. Coco, when she wasn’t working at the bakery, helped her bake and organize her ingredients. The kitchen smelled of boiling apples, cinnamon, pastry, and pumpkin. Because the oven was on nearly all day and all evening, the house was sweltering.
Late at night, Preston came home with his long wool jacket slung over his arm. “I’m not sure we’ll come out ahead with how much we’re spending on heating these double ovens.” He kissed Coco who was rolling out a pastry for a pecan pie.
Charlotte put the pumpkin bread into the oven. “I think I need a breather.” Sweat poured from her brow. Ankles swollen, she threw the towel over her shoulder. “Call me when the timer buzzes.” She needed a rest. Every step up the stairs killed her feet. She hoped all the efforts would pay off.
Once in her room, she flopped on the quilt covering her bed, the mattress groaning underneath her. Just one more day of baking and selling, and then she could rest.
Her eyes sagged shut.
“Smells good down there.”
Charlotte popped open an eye. Jules! She rolled over. “Don’t tell me you can smell.”
“Actually I can’t, but I’ve watched you work all day, and I imagine what that must smell like.” Standing beside the rocking chair, he took a hound-like sniff. “Delicious. What’s the occasion?”
Charlotte sat up. Most of the times they’d talked about the bake sale had been off-property. “We’re saving the dairy next door. Their bank notes are coming due, and they won’t have the money to pay both the new city taxes and the past due notices. So we’re having a bake sale to help them raise money.”
“That’s so nice. I wish I could eat.” He picked at the cloth covering the rocking chair arm, looking depressed.
Jules wasn’t in his usually cheery mood. Maybe she could cheer him up.
“Hey, I found out that you gave up rum running. You turned over a new leaf and started delivering milk across the border.”
“I did?” Sitting in the chair, he squinted his eyes and focused far away, as if remembering something, rocking slowly. “That sounds familiar.”
“According to the next-door neighbor, Percy, you upset a lot of powerful people, and they came to get their money back.”
Furrowing his brow, he blinked several times, pausing in his rocking. “Yes, I remember. Terrible night. I told my wife to go out into the woods. I faced the men. But I’m afraid I was a coward.” He rocked the chair slowly again.
“A coward?”
He squinted his eyes looking off into the unseen world of his memories. “The mob came, and I couldn’t fight them all off.”
“That doesn’t make you a coward.”
He stared down at the floor, rocking in a steady rhythm. “I was a coward for thinking the only way I could save my house was to go into business with men like those. I should’ve let the house go or found a more honorable profession. Or even asked my in-laws for help. I was so proud.”
“Percy said the money you was gold. Did anyone ever find it?”
Raising his head, he lowered his eyebrows. “I don’t remember.”
“He also said you wanted to keep it safe for your wife. That you left her a clue. But it seems as though she never found it.”
He rocked in his chair, more frantically. “I did. But I can’t remember. It’s been too long.”
Charlotte frowned. “Did the mob find the gold?”
He gave her a flat stare. “I haven’t spent a hundred years thinking about gold. I’ve only been thinking about my wife and family.” He stopped rocking and stood, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry I’m not very helpful.”
Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. “No, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up that the money would reappear just when we needed it.”
He paced, hand stroking his chin, focusing on the floor. “If I left her a clue, it would be somewhere where I was sure she would find it.”
“Go on.”
“Something personal.”
Energized, Charlotte got off the bed. “Like what? A painting? Did you write it in a book?”
“Charlotte?” A knock sounded on the door.
Heart thundering, Charlotte spun. “Come in.”
Coco’s head poked through the bedroom door. “The buzzer is going off for the pumpkin bread.”
“Thank you.”
Coco stood staring at her. “Are you okay?”
Charlotte turned to check the room. Of course Jules had left. “I’m fine.”
“I just thought you wanted to rest.”
“Oh.” She glanced down to her feet planted firmly on the rug. “I was thinking about Halloween costumes.”
“Do you want me to get the pumpkin bread out of the oven?”
“Go ahead. I’m done for the night.” After the conversation with Jules, she was quite defeated. She glanced at the chair.
Coco lifted her chin, widening the gap in the door. “You’ve worked really hard today. You worked harder than I did at the bakery today and made twice as much.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte glanced up to meet her gaze. “I just don’t want the Bentons to lose their dairy.”
“We’ll help them keep it. Don’t worry.” Coco gave her a determined look and closed the door.
Charlotte collapsed back on the bed with a wheeze of the mattress. “But will we ever make enough at the bake sale?” She blinked up at the ceiling and shook her head. “I hope so.”
Eric had been invigorated with all the energy from the bake sale. They offered cookies and treats with milk. Thankfully, tourists from all over came to leaf peep and paid up for homemade treats sold on the side of the road.
Charlotte had come through with so many treats; Eric warmed that she worked so hard for his family.
“Hey, I talked to Jules.” Pushing back curls, Charlotte passed out crumb cakes and blondies to waiting customers.
“What did he say?” Eric took money from them.
She kept her voice just loud enough that he could hear. “He left her a clue on something personal. Sometime when we’re not busy, we can go through the house and look for something he might have left her with a clue.”
“That could take forever.” He made change. “It could be left on anything.”
“But he was intentional. We should be able to find it. I have faith. We have a ghost working on our side.”
The lines never ended. Angie worked the front window while Laurie helped pour glasses of fresh milk while Eric worked the main crowd, selling treats. Off to the side, Tara sold jugs of cider. James even called a few friends and helped package and label baked goods.
The Sugar Mamas stood by the road and held signs, calling the tourists in. Who could say no to these women in tiaras? Which shone brighter? The tiaras or the colors on the trees? Tourists and townsfolk alike came in droves to buy. And that’s what they needed.
Charlotte occasionally refreshed the treats, coming straight from her kitchen where her double oven worked overtime. Charlotte, Coco, and Preston spent the day in the kitchen making more treats. Deb and Papa Roland helped draw attention to the silent auction and held card readers for the credit cards.
At the end of the night, when even the tourists were off the streets and in their homes, they quit their sales.
“Let’s count it in the morning when we have all the credit receipts from the silent auction.”
Although he was quite anxious, Eric was too tired tonight and without the receipts from the silent auction, it wouldn’t do any good to count the cash.
He drove home with the cash box on his seat.
The next morning he gathered all his friends who’d helped around the kitchen table: the Sugar Mamas, the Bentons, and the Laurents and held their breath as Eric counted the money. His hand shook, counting all the cash receipts. He counted and recounted.
“How much did we make?” Deb’s brow creased as he added the credit card tally.
“With this cash, plus all the money from the silent auction, we only have fifty thousand.” He shook his head, staring at the total.
Laurie exhaled, rubbing her forehead. “That’s half the money. I have bankers coming this afternoon to start foreclose proceedings or to get the money in full. What am I going to do?”
“Thank you all so much for all your help. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Eric’s stomach dropped. He threw the stack of cash onto the counter. “But it’s not enough.” The bank wouldn’t accept a partial payment. He glanced up at all the people around him who had worked so hard. “I’m so sorry to put you through all this trouble.”
He fought to keep the tears from falling. His heart swelled with gratitude, but he had to face the music. The end was here. That was it. At least with this cash, he could give closing bonuses to his employees.
Eric slumped into the chair and covered his hands with his face. He’d failed. Everything he loved and held dear would be gone. Including Charlotte. He would have to leave Sugar Creek. His family would have to support themselves another way. His mother would have to find somewhere to live. And Angie and Lizzie. At least Kristen, Willie, and Benjamin were spared this ordeal by being away at college.
He couldn’t face his own reflection in the mirror over the buffet in the dinning room. No amount of well wishes could make him feel better. Deb and Coco said something, but he didn’t hear. He made his way to the front door.
They all left silently.
Charlotte remained.
With a large lump in his throat, he walked away from her. He couldn’t face her. He was a failure.
Leaving her in the front room, he went upstairs and threw himself on the bed. A little tickle touched his chest.
He’d forgotten about Charlotte’s ring around his neck. How foolish he had been to have kept it so long!
Shame colored his cheeks as he pulled it out and looked at it. He was not worthy of her. Shaking his head, he snapped the ring from his neck. He held the cold metal in his hand. His hope finally shattered, he wished he could throw the ring away, keep it from his sight. The ring symbolized everything that Charlotte was—wealthy, beautiful, out of reach, and unattainable.
He opened his palm, studying the intricate gold band. He turned it in his hand. He should probably return it to her as it looked valuable. She said it was an heirloom. Even in all those years while he had it in his possession, he’d never really looked at it.
He turned on the light on his phone, turning the ring over in his palm.
Something was engraved on the inside. He couldn’t make it out. Too much dirt and grime coated it. But perhaps it would be a clue as to who owned it. The hair stood on the back of his neck. The ring felt important. Weighty. But what?
He looked at the ring. He made out a number. It wasn’t twenty-four carat stamped into the ring, either. Excitement burst through him. He needed to return it to Charlotte.