Raspberry Kisses (The Bakery Romance Series Book 1)

by Cecelia Dowdy

  “Are you serious about helping?”

  “Of course.” Why would Mary think otherwise?

  “Well,” she gestured toward her purse. “Give me my purse.”

  Rhea gave her the purse and Mary rummaged in it until she found a key. She pressed the key into Rhea’s palm.

  “Could you stop by my place before you go home and feed my cat?”

  “Sure. You still live at the same place?”

  “Yes. Would you mind,” hesitating, she stared at her blanket. “Doing that for me until they let me out?”

  “Of course.” She’d have to do it after the bakery closed each night. She was usually fatigued after being on her feet all day, but, she needed to do this to help Mary out. “Did the doctor tell you how long you’d be staying?”

  She toyed with the sheet, refusing to look at Rhea. “A few days, maybe longer.”

  She’d probably be in the hospital for a while, but didn’t want Rhea to know that.

  Mary cleared her throat. “Could you also clean out his litter box for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll pay you for doing this. I figure you don’t want to do it for free.”

  Why would Mary think that? She’d started to think they were forming some kind of friendship, but, from her comment, maybe she’d been mistaken. “The only way you can pay me back is by listening to the doctor’s advice and taking care of yourself.”

  Rhea took Mary’s hand, squeezed her fingers. If she doesn’t start eating, she’ll die. The unwelcome thought slammed into Rhea’s mind. Seeing Mary’s skeletal appearance suddenly made Rhea sad. Tears spilled from her eyes and Mary gasped, pulling her hand away.

  “Why are you crying?” she asked sharply.

  Rhea shook her head. “I feel bad for you, Mary.”

  Mary’s mouth dropped open and her blue eyes snapped with anger. She got into Rhea’s face, waving her bony finger in the air. Her pale skin flushed. “Don’t be feeling sorry for me, Rhea. I’m not some pathetic charity case. I’m a strong, beautiful woman who owns her own business and I don’t need pity from someone like you.” Her large blue eyes filled with distain as she glared at Rhea.

  Rhea jerked back, still clutching Mary’s key. Maybe helping her out was a bad idea – why should she help someone if they were going to speak to her with such contempt? “Don’t talk to me like that, Mary. I’m only trying to help you.” She placed the key on the small bedside table. “You know what, maybe it’s best if you find somebody else to feed your cat.” Lord, help me not to lose my temper. She marched toward the door, but Mary’s sharp cry stopped her.

  Mary’s eyes glistened with tears, and then she hung her head and cried, her bony shoulders shaking. She howled and Rhea returned to the bed and wrapped her arms around Mary’s skeletal body. Lord, please help her to get better.

  *

  After Mary had stopped crying, she drank some water, and fell asleep. Rhea took her time, went to Mary’s home. She unlocked the door and a fluffy white cat approached, mewling. “Hi,” Rhea cooed, lifting the friendly cat in her arms.

  Spotting the cat’s dishes on the kitchen floor, she opened the cupboard, searching for cat food. The shelves were lined with cans of tuna fish and gourmet cat food. She placed the cat back on the floor. After she piled a can of food into the dish, the cat ran forward, before hungrily munching on his meal. She filled the second dish with water.

  She opened all of Mary’s cupboards. Besides the cat food and tuna fish, the only nourishment she’d seen was a bottle of multi-vitamins and a canister of coffee. She opened the refrigerator and spotted a small jug of milk. The milk was probably for the cat. Rhea slumped into the kitchen chair, studying the cat while he ate from his dish.

  Mary fed her cat better than she fed herself. Why in the world would she do that?

  Chapter Twenty

  Martin opened the large oak doors, in a hurry to exit the church. In his haste, he bumped into Linda Tucker. He gritted his teeth when he looked into her eyes. He nodded at her. “Good afternoon, Miss Tucker.”

  She pursed her lips, clutching a large cream-colored envelope in her thin hands. “I’m here to deliver this to your father.” She held the envelope up, smirking. “These are the documents needed for my grandnephew to apply for the pastoral position.”

  Martin stepped aside, opening the door for her. “Mind if I ask you something Miss Tucker?”

  “I don’t have time for small talk. I’m busy.”

  “This won’t take long,” he said, relieved when she didn’t walk inside. “You got the application a month ago. Why did it take so long to return it?” Maybe her beloved relative was having second thoughts about the position and Linda had taken a long time to influence him to apply.

  She grinned, narrowing her eyes. “My grandnephew had to get some references. I’m sure you’ve heard of Pastor Frank.”

  “Do you mean the Pastor Frank?”

  Linda nodded.

  Martin balled his hand into a fist. No way was he letting Linda know how much her news unsettled him. It’d probably make her happy to know she’d made him upset. “Pastor Frank gave your grandnephew a reference?” Frank Smith was one of the most renown evangelizers in the country. He’d written books, visited several talk shows, and he also led a mega-church in Texas. “I’m surprised that your grandnephew knows Pastor Frank.” He couldn’t hide the disbelief in his voice.

  She got into Martin’s face. “Well, he does know him. Are you implying that my grandnephew is a liar?”

  Martin backed away, holding his hands in the air, trying to put her at ease. “No, of course not. I’m just saying—”

  “I know what you’re implying. You’re saying me and my grandnephew are liars and I’m not going to stand here and listen to you say that mess.”

  Linda was the most delusional woman he’d ever met. He had to measure every word he said or she’d lose her temper. “You misunderstood me. I’m impressed. Pastor Frank is well respected, and he’s a gifted preacher.”

  “Of course he’s gifted. He recognizes talent when he sees it. That’s why he wrote a personal recommendation for Michael.”

  Martin gritted his teeth. What unsettling news! When the congregation discovered that the famous Frank Smith had given Michael a personal reference, the news might sway the vote in favor of his opponent, that is, if both he and Linda’s grandnephew were chosen as key candidates. There were only two months left until the new pastor would be voted on, and a lot could happen in two months.

  He quickly changed the subject, hoping to dispel Linda’s anger. “My father’s not here right now, but his secretary is in. Maybe you can leave the application with her?”

  She looked down and strolled through the open door before she stopped and eyed Martin again.

  “You know why I have to do this, make sure my nephew gets the pastorship?”

  Martin gritted his teeth. “What do you mean?”

  “I know about how you used to be. I already told you that. I don’t think you’ve changed. I don’t trust you and neither does God. God would never trust a pastor who abandoned his child.”

  Martin winced, his skin growing warm. How in the world did she know about that and would she tell his congregation about it? What would they say if they knew that he’d left the mother of his child when she’d been in labor, refusing to go to the hospital? He’d thought she’d been lying about going into early labor – hoping to stop him from going on his spring break trip.

  When he’d returned from the trip, he’d discovered that she hadn’t been lying. She’d had the baby, and the child had died a few days later.

  His dark college years continued to haunt him, making him doubt if he was really worthy of being the leader of Holy Grace Community Church. “How do you know about my past?” He had a right to know what Linda had done to find out about his college years. Given her wealth and resources, she’d probably had him investigated.

  She narrowed her lips. “I already told you. God’s Holy
Spirit told me all about you.” She then turned and stalked away into the church. Martin sighed as he left the building and got into his car, slamming the door shut.

  He closed his eyes, his head pounding. If he didn’t calm down, he’d get a headache. He’d never told the church about his wild college years. It’d be best if he told them about that tumultuous time in his life instead of Linda. But, when could he address that with the congregation? Would they be judgmental toward him if they knew, refusing to vote for him?

  Would his honesty result in his losing the pastorship?

  But, the Lord wanted honesty. One reason why he’d been haunted, upset, was because he had not been open about his past. Was it time to come forward to the congregation about this, let them know about his college years? He closed his eyes. Lord, help me. Do You really think I should be the lead pastor of my father’s church?

  Tell the truth. He opened his eyes, stared at the parking lot for several minutes. “But, Lord, I don’t know if I can do that now. I don’t have the courage to come forward about my past.” Sighing, he finally started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot.

  Several minutes later, he drove through Maple Grove. The quaint shops and groups of people walking down the street beckoned him. This small town was like a slice of happiness on his injured soul. What if he didn’t get the pastorship? What would he do?

  Maybe he could move to a small town like Maple Grove, settle down and maybe find a small church to pastor. Could that even work? He continued admiring the quaint town. Several small shops lined Main Street, and a few appealing restaurants dotted the downtown area. The small, charming town was a great location for Rhea’s bakery. They’d decided to call her bakery The Maple Grove Deli and Bakery. He slowly drove past Rhea’s bakery, his eyes widening. The line was long, spilling out the door. Their marketing campaign for the grand opening appeared to have worked!

  He drove around, spotting a parking space several blocks away. Excitement rushed through him as he got out of his car, running toward Rhea’s. If the bakery took off, became successful, then what would happen with Rhea? Had she given their relationship any thought or prayer, as he’d asked? Did she want to give them a chance?

  He peeked inside the building, spotting Rhea behind the counter. Candy was slicing bread and making sandwiches out of the freshly baked bread, as they’d been discussing during his advisory sessions. Rhea worked the cash register, ringing up orders.

  Rhea’s smooth, caramel brown skin glowed while she focused on her task. Her hair was back in a bun, under a hairnet. She wore a white apron over her uniform and with quick hurried movements, she served others, getting cookies and apple tarts, placing them into her newly monogrammed bag.

  The last time he’d fed the homeless with his church, Rhea had crossed his mind. If things worked out between them, he could imagine them serving the community together. She’d be a natural, feeding hungry people, serving the community. The next time he went out into the community with his church, he’d need to ask her if she’d be willing to come along.

  Rhea’s mouth pressed into a tense line. He assessed the situation. Both Candy and Rhea appeared frazzled and worn out. Perhaps he’d better help.

  If their business remained this busy, they’d have to hire more staff.

  Amidst her busyness, she glanced up and spotted him. He entered, the fragrant smells greeting him. Chocolate, cinnamon and fresh bread…he sniffed. Those wonderful scents took him back in time, back to the days of running his own bakery. “Did you need some help, Rhea?”

  She nodded, her mouth drooping while she rang up another sale. She leaned toward him. “We’re almost out of the cookies and tarts. I thought I’d baked enough this morning, but I didn’t realize there’d be this many people.” She spoke low so that only he could hear her. If business kept up like this, they’d need to plan better so that they wouldn’t run out of food.

  “I’m on it. I’ll wash up and get to work.”

  He spent the rest of the afternoon in the hot kitchen, making cookies and tarts. Things got so hectic that customers did not want to wait for the cookies and the tarts to cool.

  Rhea sold warm cookies and tarts and Candy had to keep making pots of coffee. Rhea needed a larger coffee maker if she kept serving a crowd of this size.

  Finally, it was six o’clock and most of the shelves were empty. “I can’t believe we got so many customers today!” Candy placed the CLOSED sign on the door. She removed her apron, dropping into a chair.

  Rhea glanced at her employee, her eyes sparkling. “Candy, did you hear all of the comments about our new products?”

  “I sure did!” Candy turned toward Martin. “Thanks so much for making those suggestions about changing our menu.”

  Martin smiled at Candy. “I’m glad your opening day was successful.” He then turned toward Rhea. “Now, all we have to do is monitor your daily sales. See how much they increase.”

  Rhea dropped into a chair. “I hope every Saturday is this busy.” She waved toward the door. “Candy, you can go home.”

  “I can’t do that. We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do.”

  “I’ll help her.” Martin removed his apron. If Candy was gone, then he could spend some time alone with Rhea. Maybe she’d give him a definite answer to his question. Would she really have the courage to go out with him?

  Candy rushed from the building, as if not wanting to give them a chance to change their minds. Rhea smiled, showing the hint of that cute dimple in her cheek. “Thanks for staying, Martin.”

  He returned her smile. “You’re welcome.”

  She glanced toward him, her brown skin reddening. She finally looked away, scratching the back of her neck. “I know you’d said you wanted to talk to be about…”

  So she remembered! Thank God! He didn’t want to pressure her…couldn’t let her know how anxious he’d been to take her out on a real date. He flexed his fingers. What would she say if he held her hand again? Would she object? No, he wouldn’t try to hold her hand now. “Let’s clean up first, then we can talk.”

  He went into the back of the shop to clean the kitchen. Rhea cleaned the front. They worked companionably during the cleanup, neither one of them speaking. After Rhea finished mopping the floor, she finally pulled out the register drawer. “I’m going to count up my receipts.” She turned toward the office.

  Would she mind if he came along? Swallowing, he finally followed her into the office, made himself comfortable in a chair.

  She focused on her task, flipping through the receipts. She finally reached the end of the pile, grinning. “You’ll never believe how much I made today.”

  “How much?”

  She stood, her eyes sparkling. “I made over two thousand dollars. If this keeps up, I’ll be able to pay off my debt to Raven earlier than I thought, and I can move into a better apartment.”

  “Honey, that’s great.” The endearment rolled off his tongue, and her smile faltered.

  That frown was back again. Maybe he needed to give her more time to heal. Perhaps, she still grieved for her husband, and she still had too many doubts about dating a pastor. He could sit here and think about this all night if he had to, but, he couldn’t come to a conclusion until he knew what was going on in Rhea’s mind. What was she thinking? How was she feeling?

  Did the success of her bakery mean that she was ready to toss him out of her life for good? Did she not want to see him again? Mentally, he groaned. He needed to speak to Rhea and put himself out of the misery of the unknown.

  “I like you, Martin.”

  Wow! He hadn’t expected her to say that.

  “Are you serious?”

  She gave a little nod, before looking into his eyes. He stood, walked over to her chair. He had to be cautious – he didn’t want to kiss her unless it was what she wanted. He took her hand, caressed her fingers, gently coaxed her to stand from her chair. Sighing, he pulled her into his arms, and she melted into his embrace. He kissed her cheek, and she place
d her arms around him. He leaned closer to her, and kissed her.

  She smelled of wildflowers, strawberries and chocolate and he moaned, opening his mouth, their lips locked. She tasted sweet and tantalizing, and he cradled her head, deepening their kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Goodness, what had she done! She pulled away from Martin, the scent of his aftershave lingering in her nose. For the first time since Stan’s death, she’d actually kissed another man. She touched her mouth, her lips burned as if they were on fire.

  Wow! She had to sit down. She plopped back into her seat, and Martin sat in his chair, staring at her with his mesmerizing brown eyes. “I hope you’re not mad.”

  “Of course I’m not mad.” Why would he ask her that? How could she be mad when feelings of warmth and joy swirled through her? She’d been riddled with guilt over her budding feelings for Martin. She’d even started dreaming about Stan again. Would he approve of her feelings for another man?

  She cleared her throat. What should she say? Her heart pounded hard, and she blinked. She had to calm herself down. After that amazing kiss, she wasn’t sure if she should be spending time alone with Martin. What if it went further than a kiss? She needed to be careful about their strong attraction.

  “I have an idea.”

  They made eye contact, his deep voice washing over her like a warm tidal wave. She breathed deeply, swallowing. “What’s your idea?”

  “Since you’re pleased with your increased sales, and your business is taking off, we should celebrate. Let me take you out tonight. There’s a place down in Millbrook that I think you’ll like.”

  “Millbrook? That’s kind of far.”

  “I know it’s an hour’s drive, but it’s worth it. I only go to this place on special occasions, and this is a special occasion.”

  She glanced toward the wall, her skin still tingling with electrifying warmth. “I don’t know. It sounds too much like a date.” But, that’s what she’d been contemplating, right? Raven had still not reached out to her, letting her know it was okay to contact her. What could it hurt to go out with Martin and see what happened between them? She peeked at Martin, who’d returned to his seat. Lord, he looks so gorgeous. Do You really think it’s okay for me to go out with him?