Chapter 7 #2
“Hi, Mom.” Walking over, Sarah kissed her mother’s cheek. She was like that. Dropping kisses as she went.
“We’re working on molasses cookies,” he said. The spicy smell filled the room.
“So I see.” She glanced over at the table littered with cookie cutters.
“I’m going to clean those,” he murmured.
Sarah’s mother tied on her apron. “How’s your Christmas season going, Ryan?”
“Just fine.” This was probably the best Christmas he’d ever had.
She smiled with the same wise eyes her daughter had inherited. “Thanks for taking my place back here.”
“No problem. I enjoy working in the bakery.”
“Your brother did too.” Picking up a piece of leftover cookie dough, Lila rolled it in her fingers. Then she formed an S with the dough. “Sarah, remember how we used to make our initials with the leftovers?”
“Sure do.” A small smile on her lips, Sarah started playing with the leftover dough. Then she dropped it and turned. “Guess we should frost them now.”
Her mother left and Sarah filled two tubes with the white frosting.
If the rolling pin struck fear into his heart, that was nothing compared to that plump tube in his hand.
Of course for Sarah, it was child’s play.
A little squirt here and another one there and Santa looked great, decorated with white.
He tried. Really he did. But he pressed too hard and blobs of frosting shot out, not the delicate lines and swirls on Sarah’s pieces.
He tried again. Ah, better.
But not for Sarah. “Hmm. Let’s count that as a trial piece.”
What? Okay, so the cookie looked a little blobby. It would taste the same. But he did it again.
“Better.” Sarah was peering over his shoulder. He couldn’t resist. Turning, he squirted her. First she looked shocked. Then she got mad.
“So that’s how you want to play it.” Frosting dripped from her forehead onto her cheek. Her tongue darted out. Grabbing another pastry tube, she took aim and hit him right between the eyes.
“Game on.” Chasing her around the butcher block table, he went nuts. This was like paint ball but even better. And Sarah gave as good as she got.
“Take that,” she’d yell.
“Oh, really? How about this?”
Frosting was flying and their faces were covered by the time by the bags were empty. Shoulder to shoulder, they collapsed against the counter, laughing until they were breathless. It had been so long since he’d heard Sarah laugh. Her mother peeked over the door and then faded away.
Messy with frosting, Ryan looked adorable. Adorable and hunky. Standing there babbling, Sarah felt like a fool. The man did have a way about him. How had she ever missed that? Gone was Jamie’s irritating little brother. That old image didn’t fit anymore.
He’d made her laugh. And it felt good.
Her heart beat in time to “Little Saint Nick,” blasting from the radio.
Why had she wrapped her arms around him like that?
Hadn’t once been enough the other day? Maybe that was the problem.
She knew how Ryan’s broad shoulders tapering down to a slim waist felt and, mercy, she liked it.
He’d been so darn cute working with that frosting, biting his lower lip in concentration.
Checking the clock, he laid the bag down. “Okay, if I leave, boss lady?” He gave her one of his mischievous grins. “There’s a Harley waiting for me up at Branson’s.”
“Sure. No problem.”
Taking off the apron, he folded it into a neat square and then hesitated. “Maybe I’ll just take this home and wash it. It’s a mess.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” She took it from his hands. “I’ll just throw it in with mine.”
Funny but she liked the idea of their laundry twining together in the washer.
“Okay. Thanks, Sarah.” Dashing over to the sink, Ryan washed his hands. His apron in her hands, she felt dazed, like the time Mildred Wentworth had accidentally side-swiped Sarah’s car in the parking lot at Clancy’s.
Turning, he dried his hands on a towel. “Don’t you notice anything different about me?”
Sarah’s head jerked and her eyes focused. “What?”
Slipping the towel on the toolbar, he grunted.
“Never mind.” Shaking his head, he mumbled something she couldn’t understand.
When he pulled on his huge sheepskin coat, she thought of what Chili had said about macho man.
Maybe she was right. In that coat, Ryan should be out on the plains herding cattle. The image sent a warm rush through her.
“See you later,” he said, ducking out the door.
“Later.” The room seemed to deflate after he left.
Ryan must be exhausted, holding down his job at Branson’s and driving here to help out.
How she wished she could pay him. But having another person on the payroll would be stretching it.
Eager to get the cute cookies into the case, she arranged them on a fresh tray and carried it to the front.
Her mother was ringing up a sale so she slipped behind her.
The customers left. “More people from the library,” she said with a sassy smile.
“That’s good, Mom.” Going around to the front, Sarah checked the cookie display and smiled, remembering what fun she’d had with Ryan that morning.
“Are you going to bring the boys to hear me read Christmas stories this Saturday?”
“Sure. Of course.” How would she cover the shop? “I’ll work something out.”
Humming to herself, her mother spritzed the counter tops and wiped them down with paper towels.
But her eyes were dreamy as she worked. Mom had always been a very practical, no nonsense woman.
Sarah might have to tell her to ease up on the purple eye shadow but didn’t have the heart. She seemed so happy.
Going into the back, Sarah called Lindsay.
“What’s up?” Lindsay said when she picked up. “Haven’t seen you much lately.”
“Busy baking Christmas cookies. It’s kind of my last hurrah before people take off for the winter break.”
“Break? Tanner and I are staying right here.”
“Uh, huh.” Sarah pictured the two of them cuddled and cozy in Tanner’s home above the dunes with her two girls, Rebecca and Susan. Although she was happy for her friend, her heart twisted a bit. “I’m calling to ask a favor.”
“Name it,” Lindsay said with no hesitation.
“My mother is reading for the Children’s Hour at the library this Saturday. Could you watch the shop for maybe an hour or so?”
“No problem, even though this is like letting the fox into the chicken coop. All that pastry to sample while you’re gone.”
Lindsay was thin as a strand of dune grass. “I’m trusting you. A new librarian has taken Mildred Wentworth’s place. My mother’s acting weird so I have to check him out.”
She could hear her friend release her breath. “Your mother is dating?”
Dating. Mom? Reaching over, she picked a letter she’d baked from the leftover dough. Biting down, she munched for a moment.
“Sarah, are you still there?”
She swallowed. “Yes, sorry. Just thinking. I want to meet Stuart. You know, casually.”
“Stuart. Hmm. A very distinguished name.”
“You think so?” She took another bite.
“What are you eating?” Lindsay asked.
Sarah glanced down at the half eaten letter. “Oh, no. I’ve eaten Ryan.”
“What?” Lindsay howled.
Heat flooded Sarah’s face. “A cookie. I just ate the R.”
“See you Saturday.” Lindsay was chortling as Sarah hung up.