Page 42 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“Just like with men.”

Violet went into her pantry, the old wood door creaking on its hinges. There was something about the space, with all its shelves and the scent of various ingredients, that made her think of warmkitchens on a cold winter’s day, the sweet scent of butter, cinnamon and sugar baking together, and wonderful memories.

“These are from my tree.” She set a large jar of peach slices on the counter. “We’ll make a cobbler and you can give it to her as a Christmas gift, or a just-because gift. I’ve got an amazing recipe that all the ladies here in Sweetheart Creek love. They always ask me to bake a cobbler for events.” She held up a warning finger. “I’m going to teach you how to make it, but if I catch you selling or sharing this recipe or making it for anyone other than Miss Pretty Perfect Princess, you’re toast. Got it?”

Leo solemnly held up his right hand. “I swear.”

“If she doesn’t like this, then there’s something seriously wrong with her.”

Secretly, Violet was beginning to think therewassomething wrong with Christine. There had to be a defective gene somewhere, because how could she not be smitten with Leo? He was kind, as well as a loyal friend. Easy to hang out with. And he had his priorities straight—which, from what she’d learned, not all professional athletes did. Or at least their priorities were very different from Violet’s.

So far, Leo had tried flowers, asking Christine out and doing small things for her. She clearly wasn’t interested, but Leo wasn’t willing to see that. Violet hoped this gift either opened Christine’s heart or opened Leo’s eyes.

“Not only is this a gift,” Violet explained, “but it’s doing something nice for her. This will show her you think of her, that you’re willing to take some time from your day and make something she’d enjoy.”

“Would you like it if someone baked you a cobbler?” Leo asked from his spot at the kitchen’s island.

“I think every woman would—secretly. Although some might be alarmed by the gesture or wonder if you’re straight.” She sighed, one hand on her hip. “Honestly, we can be a strange lot, becoming suspicious of a man who bakes. But why should we? Baking is awesome. I’d love it if someone brought me baked goods.”

Violet gnawed on her lip and thought about it. “Maybe this isn’t a smart plan.”

“I want to do it, though.” He had a mischievous look in his eyes, and again Violet hesitated.

“Why? She might hate it. It could backfire, in terms of what she believes baking will say about you. This is a risky idea.” Violet began putting the ingredients back in her pantry. “I’m a weird egg. I mean, how many women go out for drinks with some guy and they—”

“Barf all over your shoes?”

“Ugh. You heard?” Leo had joined her in the pantry and was studiously retrieving all the items she’d put away, returning them to the island.

“Daisy-Mae told Maverick, who mentioned it when we were working on some plumbing.”

“Are you sure you still want advice from me?”

“Yes.” He was in the kitchen, organizing the ingredients so he could read the labels. “The cobbler will be a test, to see how evolved she is regarding gender roles.”

“Still a bad idea.”

“You don’t think she’s evolved enough?”

“I give poor advice. Nothing has worked so far.”

“It’s my delivery. This…” he swept an arm over the growing pile of ingredients “…is all in how I package and sell it to her.”

“Serve it in a manly baking dish?” Violet asked, using a deep voice that made Leo smile.

“Mangled topping, and an absence of bows and gingham.”

“Sorry, but the topping is always perfect. That’s the beauty of lots of butter. It melts and smooths out any imperfections left by the baker. And don’t tell her you made it with me. She won’t enjoy hearing that.”

“Okay, so I’ll tell her I was thinking of her.”

“Yes.”

“And I was thinking of peaches…”

“No.”

“Thinking of my dear sweet grandma.”

---