Page 28 of The Blessings of Christmas
“What?” Mom lifted her brows, wrapping string around the box.
“Nothing.” What was the use? Sarah held up the coffee carafe. “Guess I’ll make a fresh pot.” She sure would like to meet Stuart.
“How is Ryan working out in the back?” Her mother’s question broke into Sarah’s thoughts.
“He’s doing fine.” The words flew from her lips, maybe too quickly.
Her mother gave her a sly look. “I think he kind of likes you, Sarah.”
“We need his help this holiday season.”
“Oh, I think it’s more than that.” With a knowing smile and a girlish giggle, Mom got her coat from the back, swept up the cookies and headed to the library.
Sarah was left with questions.
Did Ryan like being around her? Or was it just family duty?
Seemed like he was pushing her to date. Did he want her to date him or other guys?
Sarah could drive herself crazy with questions like that. Bustling back to the work room, she glanced around with satisfaction. The bowls had been washed and dried. The baking sheets were criss-crossed neatly on the side board. Ryan had even set out the butter for the gingerbread cookies tomorrow. The cookie cutters sat ready.
If she were honest with herself, Sarah liked having him here. Her mother felt the same. She’d told Sarah that he reminded her of Jamie. He’d been the son Lila Wilkins never had and she’d taken his loss hard. And now it was the holidays. The time filled with memories of putting up a tree and decorating the house.
Sarah would have to make a point of including Ryan in any Christmas preparations. The boys would like that. Jamie would want her to make sure that everyone had a good holiday. He’d loved family get-togethers.
Marching back into the front, she flipped the coffee maker on, waiting until it gurgled and the smell of hazelnut filled the air. Who needed whipped cream on the top and all the other fancy stuff? But Ryan had a point and Daddy would agree. What could she do about it now?
Pent up energy made her jumpy. Taking the stairs two at a time, she found the tubs of Christmas decorations in the attic and lugged them down one by one. No matter what, she would make this holiday happy for everyone. That was a promise she’d made to herself and she intended to keep it.
When her mother got back from the library, she chattered endlessly about the cute Santa on the desk and how the “staff” were wearing reindeer horns with jingle bells. Sarah almost dropped the glittery red garland she was stringing along the counter.
That twinkle in her mother’s eyes? Whatever was going on at the library was not about books.
CHAPTER 7
Digging the key out from under the stiff frozen mat, Ryan smiled. He should talk to her about this. Who else but Sarah would hide a key in such an obvious place? He opened the back door. Reaching inside, he snapped on the lights and the back room of the bakery came to life. Coming here in the early morning was a great way to start the day. The room was dark, silent and peaceful.
Ryan sniffed the air, still warm from yesterday’s baking. In addition to sugar and yeasty dough, a faint whiff of Sarah’s soap lingered. Smiling, he slipped off his coat. Even though he’d blasted the heat in his truck, he needed to warm up. Pushing through the swinging door, he entered the shop front. The feel of his boot adjustment was still new, and he enjoyed every step.
He snapped on the light. “Whoa.” Sarah must have been busy. He hadn’t glanced at the front when he came for his second shift. Christmas had exploded in the store with a blizzard of green and red. He blinked. On the main counter stood a red and gold Santa, settled into drifts of white fabric snow tucked with gold and red ornaments. Elves peeked from the shelves. In the center of each glass-topped table sat a small bowl of ornaments. Adhesive snowflakes dotted the plate glasswindow, as if there wasn’t enough snow outside. The scent of pine tickled his nostrils. And he didn’t miss the mistletoe hanging from the light fixture.
Mistletoe and kissing. He couldn’t even go there.
While the coffee perked, he studied the darkened street outside. Street lamps dropped pools of light on the snow. When he was growing up with Jamie, they loved the snow and cold. Despite their parents’ warnings and threats, they’d take their sleds down to the ice floes banking the shoreline. Climbing to the top, they’d careen down the slick slopes, screaming with crazy fear.
Of course someone told their folks. The Pickard boys were at it again and were grounded for a month. Now Ryan wondered at the risks they’d taken back then. Grabbing his mug, he walked to the back.
For the next two hours he worked, punching the dough down, setting it to rise again. There was something satisfying about baking. Sure he loved the work on Harleys but it didn’t bring the immediate satisfaction that The Full Cup did. He could understand now why his brother had fallen so easily into this role after Jamie married Sarah.
After the bread rose, he slid the sheets into the oven, his hand still tender from the burns. He became a mindless fool around Sarah. One look from her greenish blue eyes and he was toast.
By the time Sarah arrived, the racks were full of rye bread, sour dough, white and a multigrain twist he was trying out. He wondered how customers would like the prettier bread. Or maybe it was just another one of his stupid ideas.
Glancing around, Sarah’s eyes brightened and he fed on that light. “Ryan, I love to come in the morning and see this. You just don’t know.”
Ryan felt proud. Walking over, he took her coat.
“Such a gentleman,” Sarah murmured, slipping her red scarf into the sleeve. “Thank you.”
