Page 25 of The Blessings of Christmas
“No reason.” His question seemed to offend her.
Tension had a hold on Sarah’s pretty face. Hardly pausing for breath, she began to rattle off instructions. “Business was great Saturday, but customers emptied the racks. We’ve got to get going.” Pressing a hand to her forehead, she looked upset. Her red-rimmed eyes were accented by her pale skin. Had she even slept last night?
“Whoa, whoa,” he said, stepping closer. “Slow down, Sarah.”
“I can’t. Not when there’s so much to do.” Ripping off her coat, she missed the hook on her first try.
“Let me help. Everything will be fine.” Ryan lifted her heavy winter coat from the floor and hung it up
“Thanks, Ryan.” Tension rolled off her body as she slipped into her apron and pulled on her hair net. “We have to bake sand tarts, lemon bars, thimbles and maybe even gingerbread men today.”
Then she sniffed. “Have you started the pastries?”
“Done.” He wanted Sarah to know she could count on him.
“Oh, good. Great.” Her shoulders eased a bit. But she still didn’t really look at him as he strolled between ovens and the cooling racks. Instead she checked the butter.
Ryan finally gave up. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Sand tarts. You know where the pecans are.”
Okay, so she wasn’t going to notice.Get over yourself. But he wanted to know what was bothering her. He got to work chopping, zesting, sifting and measuring.
Last week when they worked together, he’d enjoyed seeing her face flush from the heat, laughed when she ended up with flour on her nose or cheek. And while they worked, she chattered. He liked the sound of her voice more than what she was saying.
But this morning she was quiet and worrying.
“Nathan’s acting up in school. He brought home a note. I have to call Mrs. Wilcox today.”
“Can’t they cut the kid some slack?” He took out a tray of rye bread. If he had a dollar for every time his mother had to call a teacher, he’d be a rich man. “This is a rough year for him...and you.”
“Sure, they know it’s because of Jamie. But what can I do about that?” Her voice caught. He felt helpless. The boys missed their dad.
“What did they say they wanted for Christmas?” Sarah pinned him with her eyes. “Why did you make me move away? I couldn’t hear.”
Now, this was a hard one. “Just the usual stuff. I can’t remember. There were so many kids that day.” He jammed the tray of bread onto the cooling rack.
“I suppose so.” Her expression clouded. “You were awfully busy.”
Nathan and Justin were his only nephews. No way would he not remember their Christmas list. But he could never tell her. Ryan thought back to his own childhood toys. “Trains. I think they mentioned trains.”
Sarah’s eyes brightened. “I did take them to the train shop. What’s so secret about that?”
The bread timer went off. How could he explain why he couldn’t tell her? Opening the oven door, he grabbed a pan with his bare hands. Pain seared him. The pan teetered on the edge of the rack.
One look at his face and Sarah grabbed the red mitts and transferred the pan to the cooling rack. He just stood there, feeling like an idiot. “Are you all right?”
Shaking off the mitts, she faced him. Ryan had to drop his gaze. He didn’t want her to know that his hands felt like they’d been thrust into hot coals.
“Cold water.” She nudged him over to the sink.
“Don’t know what I was thinking.” Now, that was a lie. All he thought about was her.
“Just an accident. I’ve done the same thing.” She turned on the cold water.
Standing next to the old sink, he let the water flow over his hands.
“What is it?” Sarah said briskly. “This isn’t like you. What’s on your mind?”
