Chapter 1
As Lily stormed into the kitchen, Gina’s mouth dropped open as she looked at the clock. “Oh my gosh, you’re late!”
“Had to happen eventually,” Lily grumbled. Her demeanor seemed in stark contrast to the cheery pinkish hue of her blond ponytail. I assumed she colored it every morning with some sort of chalk. The shade varied nearly that often. She stomped over to her baking station after dumping her bag in the closet.
Bryan divided the lemon-blueberry scone doughball he had formed in half and plopped a portion onto Lily’s work surface. “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”
Lily immediately pounded it out with her fists. Something was eating at her, and if I didn’t put a stop to it, that batch of scones would be no better to eat than the doorstop I used to keep the shop door open, letting the warm spring air in and allowing the bakery smells to waft out to the sidewalk.
I needed Bryan to move so I could hop in and see what was wrong with my usually punctual and breezy baker. “Bryan, can you pour the batter into these muffin cups, please?” I ticked my head to the side for emphasis.
“Sure thing, Joanie.” He stepped away as I approached, then walked around me to the industrial mixer where the muffin batter had seconds left to mix.
Lily pulled out a rolling pin, but before she could do anything, I placed my hand over it to prevent her from flattening the scone dough. Whispering so only she could hear, I asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” she mumbled.
The kitchen light above her told a different story, dimming slightly while all the others remained the same.
I worked the doughball Bryan had left at his station, forming it into a flat circle. “You sure? Gina’s right. Late isn’t like you.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She took a deep breath in and slowly let it out before shaking out her shoulders and bending her neck to one side and then the other.
“Okay. Well, I’m here if you need someone to talk to.” I pulled the rolling pin out of this station’s drawer and flattened the dough disk until it was roughly a half-inch thick and the size of a round dinner plate.
“Thanks, Joanie.” She stayed silent as she rolled out her dough with less force than she would have moments before. It was as if the fight had left her.
Not wanting to press her further, I cut my dough into eight wedges and transferred the raw scones to the baking tray between us. I grabbed another hunk of waiting dough, this time cinnamon chip, and formed it into a large ball.
Lily worked her jaw, readying herself to speak. “It’s just, why are men so difficult?” She slid her scones onto the baking sheet.
Ah, dating troubles. Although I was a matchmaker, I didn’t have a wealth of advice in the dating arena. Until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t been on a date since college. Sure, I’d had the opportunity, but my ability to see ghosts complicated my love life. Until I fell—almost literally—for Ken Dawson, a recent transplant to Heartwood Hollow, I’d sworn off dating.
“I wish I could tell you. It’s infuriating sometimes, isn’t it?”
Lily scrunched up her face as she contemplated this. “I’d thought you’d have some insight. Isn’t matchmaking, like, your superpower or something?”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a superpower, and it can only tell me when people are meant to be together, not what someone’s thinking or why they do what they do.”
She sighed, and I took a stab at what was bothering her. “Problems with your boyfriend?”
Aaron had come into the bakery a couple of times over the six months he and Lily had been together, usually when she was particularly proud of whatever she had baked. He was a good guy, but the two weren’t right for one another.
“Not anymore,” she quipped. “We broke up.”
Gina rushed over to Lily. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” She placed her arm around Lily’s back, her hand resting on Lily’s far shoulder.
Sam, who had been quiet up to this point, walked by the two rear baking stations with a rolling rack of cookie trays ready for the oven. “He didn’t deserve you. You’ll find someone so much better.”
Lily straightened and considered his statement for a moment. “You know what? You’re right, because I’m awesome.” She breathed on her knuckles and pretended to shine them on her green apron. The light above her returned to the same brightness as the rest in the room.
“That’s the spirit,” I said, knowing Lily would recover from this heartbreak and eventually find someone right for her. For the two years she’d been working for me, I’d never known Lily to be upset for long, almost as if she could cast her cares away on the breeze to let them be carried away.
The oven beeped, and as Bryan turned it off, he announced, “Muffins are coming out of the oven, Joanie.”
“Great. If you wouldn’t mind setting them to cool, then you can get back to these scones while I pack up the morning deliveries.
Bryan nodded. “Sure thing.”
Sarah popped into the kitchen shortly before the shop was to open to put away her purse. I was cleaning up my baking station as the rest of my team continued their tasks for the late-morning deliveries and second round of baked goods. What wasn’t going to Riverview Inn, we’d pull from throughout the course of the day as the front cases emptied.
“Someone’s in the front to see you,” Sarah said. “I figured it was close enough to opening that you wouldn’t mind me letting him in.”
About to reprimand her for leaving the shop unattended —after working for me since I’d opened four years ago, she knew better—I caught her smile. Realizing whom she was talking about, I hurried to the bathroom and quickly washed my hands before checking myself out in the mirror. After wiping a spot of flour off the side of my nose, I deemed myself okay, then pulled my medium-brown hair tighter into its ponytail.
My smile brightened as I walked through the kitchen and into the shop, the glow of the lights above me intensifying just enough for me to notice.
“What a pleasant surprise this is, Ken,” I said, heading toward him. “What are you doing here?”
He straightened and turned toward me, his back now facing the case he had been peering into. “Good morning, Joanie.” He wrapped me in a hug and leaned down to kiss me.
I met him halfway, rising onto my toes. “Good morning to you too.”
“Hope you don’t mind Sarah letting me in.” He grinned sheepishly, as if wondering whether his being in here before opening concerned me.
Dismissing the statement with a wave, I said, “Of course not. It’s always good to see you. Can I get you anything?” I looked at the clock on the wall opposite the cases. “I know you have to get going to work.”
“Originally, I was thinking a cinnamon scone, but then these caught my eye.” He shuffled toward the pastry case and pointed to a puff-pastry treat curled into a heart shape.
“One elephant ear coming right up.” I’d also heard them called palmiers during my time at culinary school, but I preferred the term I’d grown up with.
I walked behind the counter, then opened the case to pull out an elephant ear. The treat was about twice the size of my hand. I reached behind me and grabbed a white wax paper bag and dropped the pastry inside.
“On the house.”
He shook his head as I handed him the bag. “You really need to stop giving me free things. It can’t be good for your bottom line.”
“You pay me for Ivy’s cookies. With how often you get things
for her, that’s plenty.” Ken’s seven-year-old daughter had developed a fondness for my cookies after trying them in the basket Ken had received when he closed on his house last month. The partnership with the real estate office had yielded me many loyal customers during my time in Heartwood Hollow.
“I’m pretty sure you give me a discount for those,” he replied, chuckling.
I made a motion of zipping my lips and raised my eyebrows. “I will neither confirm nor deny that statement.”
“A free breakfast wasn’t the reason I came here this morning, but thank you.”
“So what else brings you in?” I walked toward the window and raised the blind. The bakery would officially be open in another two minutes.
“Well, Ivy got invited to a sleepover—”
“Oh, how wonderful. Good for her. I’m glad she’s making friends.” I scooted back around the counter and over to the other window to raise that blind.
“She’s really excited for it. Anyway, I was hoping you were free Friday night since I will be free.”
“A date night? One without the potential of the babysitter having to leave to find her grandma’s dog?” He nodded enthusiastically.
A smile grew across my face. “Count me in. You pick the spot, though. I’ve chosen the last two places.”
“Fair enough.” Ken leaned in and quickly kissed me on my lips. “I hate to run, but I have to go. I’ll call you.” Then he spun around me and headed for the door.
I followed him and turned the sign on the pink-painted door from closed to open. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Looking forward to it already,” he said over his shoulder, waving behind him with the hand holding the pastry bag.
The kitchen door swung open, and Sarah stepped into the shop, but not before revealing Gina, Lily, and Sam trying to look innocent as they hurried back to their stations.
I laughed at the sight. When had my social life become so interesting? Right—when I met Ken while covered in salad dressing. “Busted. I see all of you snoops. Now get back to work.”
Gina and Sam continued to walk away, but Lily drew closer and popped her head into the bakery. “That. I want that.”
Noted. I hoped someone would come into her life soon. She deserved a good guy.
After Ken’s visit, the first half of the morning continued like any other Wednesday would. By ten thirty, I had sent my bakers home, aside from Sam, who’d left to go to school when we opened. Despite having a free period first thing that allowed him to skip homeroom, he’d likely still be late as a result of his snooping. Since he was graduating in a month, I was sure he wasn’t too worried. He was my best worker, and I looked forward to him being available all summer, but sadly I’d be losing him in the fall to culinary school.
The door to the shop swung open, and I glanced up at the clock to see how much time I had before my next round of deliveries. A few minutes. Hopefully this would be quick, but at least Sarah was already in the kitchen packing the orders.
I smiled at the flanneled stranger. “Good morning. Welcome to Suncraft Bakery. How may I delight your sweet tooth today?” I’d never seen him before, which was strange for Heartwood Hollow prior to tourist season. It didn’t officially start for another two weeks, and Wednesdays were an odd day for vacationers to pop in no matter the time of year.
He nodded and gave me a nervous “Hullo” as he surveyed the cases.
“We have a wide variety of treats, as you can see.” I swept my arm in front of me in a displaying motion.
The man paced the shop, sometimes looking at me, other times looking at the cases or at the clock. He tapped the front pocket of his jeans repeatedly.
“We make everything fresh daily in our kitchen except for what you see on the corner rack over there.” I pointed to the little blue shelf that had a small assortment of day-old cupcakes and bags of cookies. There was never much left at the end of the day, but I wanted to provide goodies at a bargain for those who needed it by discounting anything that remained from the day before.
He glanced at the shelf but continued his back and forth of the floor.
As I ran through my list of suggestions, I studied the twenty-something-year-old man in the red flannel buttondown and white T-shirt. His carpenter jeans fit well, and his tan boots were the type construction people wore. They weren’t dirty or worn, though, and I wondered if this was more a fashion choice than a necessity. “Is there anything that strikes your fancy?”
He shook his head and glanced back toward the kitchen. His caginess was setting me on edge, but then the strangest thing happened. Not because it hadn’t happened countless times before but because he was alone when it occurred. My toes tingled, and the sensation spread up my legs and settled in my stomach. It was the feeling I got whenever I came in contact with a couple that was a perfect match for one another. It was a skill I’d had since childhood, one I’d inherited from my mom. In this town alone, I’d matched a dozen couples in about four and a half years.
I had never been wrong.
But this was a first. He was alone, and the skill didn’t work on me, so we weren’t a match.
Could the match be so strong as to sense Sarah in the kitchen?
I tried again to engage the man. “How about a scone?”
He gave another shake of his head before he spun on his heels and hurried out of the bakery, his hand still pressed against his pants pocket.
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