“Sure.” He looked to Holly. “Want to join us? My bakery is only a little ways from here.”
“Why not?” She’d been meaning to visit his place, and hot cocoa sounded perfect. Besides, she enjoyed being with him. Surely her jeans would dry in the warm bakery.
Matthew reached down and grasped the sled with his free hand. “Where were you heading when you stopped?”
“Thought I should clear the air with my mom.” She didn’t mind sharing, since he was fast becoming her only confidant regarding family issues. “You think I’m doing the right thing?”
“It’s certainly not the wrong thing. How are you and your mom doing?”
“We haven’t spoken since she hung up on me yesterday. I can’t handle having her angry with me. It eats me up inside and messes with my head.”
“I understand.” He pushed open a glass door. “Here we are. Take a seat and I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”
The scent of cinnamon and sugar warmed Holly from the inside out. A customer stood at the counter being helped by someone she didn’t recognize, and a young child peered into the display case.
Ava climbed onto an old-fashioned ice-cream-parlor-style chair and pulled her hands from her mittens. She placed the mittens on the metal table. “I love Unca Matt.”
Holly grinned at the rosy-cheeked cutie sitting across from her. “He’s a good uncle. You’re lucky to have him.”
“Mommy says that, too.”
Holly took in the smallish space and noted the large display case now less than a quarter full—must be a good thing, considering it was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon. She assumed he baked fresh daily. A red-checked valance hung over the storefront window, and the specials were written on a chalkboard sign on the wall behind the register.
“Here we go.” Matthew set three steaming mugs down and pulled a chair over from another table.
“I like your place, Matthew.” Holly looked around again at the utilitarian space. It was clean and tidy, but plainly missing a woman’s touch. “I assume most people take their food to go, since you only have three small tables.”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s too small to seat many people. The kitchen is bigger than the front. Nice for me, but not so much for eat-in guests.”
“I wouldn’t worry. It hasn’t stopped business, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
She sipped the thick, rich drink and closed her eyes. “Wow. This tastes homemade.”
“It’s my secret recipe.”
“Too bad. That kind of secret should be shared.” She winked and took another sip. “You know, the church’s annual Thanksgiving feast is around the corner. I’m on the planning committee. Are you interested in helping? We can always use extra hands in the kitchen, or with setup and teardown. Of course, any donations are appreciated, too.”
“It’s not on Thanksgiving Day, is it?”
“No. The Sunday before, right after church.”
“In that case, sure. I’ll bring a few dozen rolls. Let me know where you need me and I’ll be there, but I’m tied up here until just before the service begins.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” Holly downed the rest of her cocoa and noticed Ava giggling. “What’s so funny?”
“You have white stuff on your nose.”
Holly’s face heated and she quickly swiped away the cream. “All better?”
Matthew reached for a napkin. “Except for right here.” He gently pressed the napkin to the corner of her mouth. His eyes twinkled. “That happens to me all the time, too.”
Holly blinked and reminded herself to breathe. “Glad it’s not just me.” She pushed up from the table. “I should be going. Thanks for the cocoa. See you at church.” She waved and glided to the door.
Being with Matthew and his niece made her long for more from life. Never had she considered actually having a family of her own, but little Ava and her uncle made the thought appealing for the first time.
She shook her head as old insecurities crept in. She’d already proven the responsibility of caring for a baby was too much to handle. She’d failed miserably and a life had been lost. Maybe her sister would someday provide her with a niece or nephew to spoil. That would be good enough—it had to be.
Holly got into her Civic, started it up and set out again for her parents’—time to get this over with. Hopefully her mother would accept her apology and things would return to normal. Then again, the norm wasn’t too great either, but she’d settle for that any day compared to the silent treatment.
A short time later she pulled into her parents’ driveway. Taking a bracing breath, she stepped out.
Her dad pulled the door open before she could get there. “This is a surprise. What brings you by?” He pulled her into a hug before moving out of the way for her to pass into the toasty house.
“Thought I’d drop in and see Mom.”
His face sobered. “She’s in Wenatchee with your sister. Won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
“Oh. I talked with Jessica last night. She didn’t mention Mom was going to visit. Is everything okay with her?”
“Yes. She just needed her mom.”
Holly looked around the room and noticed the absence of the smell of cooking food. The place almost always smelled like something delicious. “Do you need anything, Dad? I could whip up a simple dinner for you.”
“That’s nice, but your mom left stuff in the fridge. I’ll microwave it later.” He moved farther into the house and sat on the couch facing the TV. “Want to hang out and watch the news with me?”
“Sure, but just for a bit. It’s been a long week.” Besides, the news depressed her.
After about twenty minutes she stood. “I should be going. Will you tell Mom I stopped by?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks. Love you.” She let herself out and tromped to her car. This was not how she had planned things. Mom was supposed to be here, and they were supposed to have a special mother–daughter moment.
Who was she kidding? They never had those. With a sigh, she headed home—alone.
* * *
Matthew found April in the kitchen struggling to put ground beef in the skillet with one hand. He watched for a moment, ready to spring into action should she falter, then clapped when she finally succeeded.
“Very funny. How about a little help?” She tossed the tray in the garbage and washed her hand the best she could. “I’ll be so happy to have this sling off.”
“When do you get to remove it?”
“I hope Monday.”
Matthew would have taken it off days ago, but kept that thought to himself. His sister was a rule follower and would never consider disobeying the doctor’s directions. “What were you planning to make?”
“Tacos.”
“Sounds delicious.” He pulled lettuce from the fridge. “Guess who Ava and I ran into in the park?”
“No clue.”
“Holly.”
April’s eyes widened. “And?”
“And she went down on the sled with us, then we had hot chocolate at the bakery.” And he’d had a great time. He only wished it had lasted longer.
“Sounds romantic. She might like you after all, little brother.”
He couldn’t stop the hope that maybe his sister was right, but he knew in pursuing the idea he was setting himself up for disappointment. “We were just having a little fun. Holly doesn’t have time for anything other than work. She as much as said so herself.” He frowned. “Although she did mention being on the Thanksgiving committee at church.” What was he doing, entertaining the idea of him and Holly? She’d rejected him in high school, and she wasn’t about to change her mind now. Clearly her job took top priority in her life. Funny, he’d never take her as a w
orkaholic, but it appeared that was Holly in a nutshell.
“Seems to me she has time for whatever she wants to make time for.” April broke up the meat as it sizzled in the skillet.
“Maybe. She asked me to help out.”
His sister smirked. “On second thought, maybe she just wanted to sucker you into helping.”
“Naw. She’s not like that. Besides, it seemed like a last-minute thought. I don’t think she intended to bring it up.” He concentrated on chopping the lettuce and grating the cheese. His sister’s words tickled his mind. Did Holly really stop to see him just to get him to help out at church, and if she did, was that such an awful thing? His brows furrowed. He’d actually convinced himself that she was warming to him and they were beginning to connect. But if April was right, Holly was playing him. He didn’t like to be used. Maybe it was time to take a step back and not get emotionally involved.
Chapter 9
Matthew rushed outside, careful to close the front door gently behind him. It wouldn’t do to wake his sister or niece. He’d swing by later and pick them up for church, but right now the bakery beckoned.
The porch light cast a glow onto the frost-covered steps. He gripped the handrail with gloved fingers and took the stairs gingerly. He needed to be in one piece to keep the bakery running smoothly.
The quiet predawn streets made him smile. He parked behind the bakery, got out and breathed the cold mountain air. He paused and took in the stillness of the morning. Hushed silence greeted him—a rare treasure in this tourist town.
Too soon, cold seeped through his gloves. He hustled inside and flipped on the lights. The familiar scents of yeast, cinnamon and sweetness greeted him. He hung his jacket on the hook by the door and tossed an apron over his head. Time to get busy.
The phone on the wall rang. He frowned. Calls at four in the morning were never good. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.” His little brother’s voice sounded in his ear.
“John. What are you doing awake at this time of day? I thought all college students slept in.”
“Ha. I haven’t been to bed yet—cramming for a test.”
“You better not let Mom or Dad find out. You know what they say about that.”
“Yeah, yeah. ‘No one ever learns anything from cramming except how to pass a test.’”
Matthew chuckled. “Everything okay? It’s not like you to call at all, much less this time of day.”
“My plans for Thanksgiving fell through, and I was hoping to crash at your place over the break.”
“Sure. It’ll be a full house with April and Ava, but you’re welcome to the couch.”
“Works for me. I’ll take the train on Monday. Thanks.”
“Sure thing. And, John, no more all-nighters. Mom has a sixth sense about those things.”
“I promise. After today, I’ll be the ideal student. Gotta go. See you.”
Matthew placed the phone back on the wall mount and washed his hands. His commitment to helping with the church’s Thanksgiving feast took center stage in his mind. What would it entail? One thing he knew for sure, he’d get to spend more time with Holly. Which was enough motivation to get him out of bed an hour earlier than normal to bake the rolls he’d promised.
The back door opened and George blew in. “Whew, the wind kicked up. Think we might have some weather moving in.”
“I hope that doesn’t hurt business.”
“The weather won’t change anything with Thanksgiving next week.”
“Good point.” Plus, the neighboring businesses loved his special deliveries. He was fast becoming the most popular business owner on the block.
For the next forty-five minutes they worked in silence. He stocked the display window then started the coffee. His stomach grumbled, but he resisted the treats.
Promptly at seven, Matthew flipped the sign to Open. A bundled woman stood outside with her hands thrust deep into her wool coat pockets. He pushed the door open. “Come in. Welcome. How about a cup of coffee to warm up with—on the house.”
The woman tossed the hood of her coat back and smiled.
“Holly. I didn’t realize...”
“You mean you offer coffee to complete strangers?”
“Well, yes. On a morning like this, anyone willing to brave the elements is welcome to a cup.”
“You’re a good man, Matthew. I’ll take you up on the coffee and six of your cinnamon rolls.”
“Special occasion?”
“Thanksgiving planning committee meeting at the church. We need to iron out the final details.”
“Oh. Am I supposed to be there?” His stomach sank. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Holly, but no way could he leave the bakery to attend the meeting.
“No. You just show up with your delicious rolls and willing hands, and we’ll put you to work on Sunday afternoon.”
“Good.” He moved behind the counter and pumped coffee into a paper cup. “Do you want room for cream?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
Matthew set the cup on the counter and placed a lid beside it. “The cream is over there.” He motioned to the carafe and sweeteners at a station near the door. “I’ll box up the rolls.”
She quietly doctored the hot brew then returned to the counter. “I’m glad you introduced me to your bakery. I’ve been so busy with school and work that I never noticed it was here.”
“It was my pleasure. Ava and I enjoyed your company. How’d things go with your mom?”
She frowned. “They didn’t. She was spending the weekend with my sister.”
“Will you be spending Thanksgiving at your parents’?”
“If I don’t work, which I suspect I will. The schedule will be posted tomorrow. How about you?”
“My parents moved to Florida as soon as my brother started college. They wanted warm weather year-round. My brother, John, is coming next week and plans to spend his break here.”
“Sunshine sounds good right about now, but I love the snow. I can’t wait to go skiing.”
“Really? Maybe we could go together.”
She nodded. “I’d like that.” She handed him a twenty.
He counted out her change then slid the box across the counter. “Enjoy.”
“Thanks. See you Sunday, if not sooner.” She waved and ducked out the door, pulling her hood on as she left.
Something rustled behind him. “Pretty lady.”
Matthew jumped at the sound of George’s voice. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just seeing what was taking you so long.” He smirked. “Guess now I know.”
“Get back to work.” Matthew slipped a hand into a potholder glove as he went to the kitchen and pulled a pan of cinnamon rolls from the oven. It was his specialty, and they usually sold out by early afternoon. But how did Holly know he almost always ran out? However she knew, he was glad for it—he could get used to seeing her beautiful face on a daily basis.
His heart tripped as realization finally sank in. She’d agreed to go skiing with him.
* * *
On Sunday morning, Holly eyed the fellowship hall and smiled with satisfaction. The senior women’s group had done a lovely job with the decorations. Orange, burgundy and brown tablecloths covered the thirty or so round tables decorated with wheat, mini pumpkins and gourd centerpieces.
The kitchen help had turkeys in the two commercial-size ovens, and the buffet tables were lined with nonperishables. The hot food would be in warming dishes and Crock-Pots along a wall with outlets. She had to hand it to the ladies, they’d come through with a feast that wouldn’t soon be forgotten.
The door swung open, and Matthew walked in loaded down with several large paper bags. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” She rushed over to him. “
Glad you made it.” She reached for a bag. “Are these the rolls?”
He nodded and released his hold on one of the sacks.
“I didn’t mean you had to supply all the rolls.” She opened the top and breathed deeply of the yeasty aroma. “They smell wonderful, and they’re still warm! Thanks for doing this, Matthew. You really went above and beyond.”
“My pleasure.” He handed her the second bag.
“I may need to taste test one of these.”
He chuckled and looked around the large room, then rested his gaze on her. “What do you want me to do?”
“I put you on the cleanup crew, so you can relax until later. The youth group will make sure the tables are cleared and wiped down, and the men will break down the room. We have lots of help, so it should go fast.”
“Great. I’ll see you after the service.”
“Yep.” Her gaze followed him to the door. He was so nice. Why hadn’t she paid attention to him in high school? Well, she’d noticed him now, probably more than she should for someone who wanted to focus on her job. But she couldn’t help liking him. He was truly a sweetheart. She shook off the sappy thoughts. No time for romance—this meal wouldn’t fix itself.
She placed the bags on the table, then made one last check in the kitchen to make sure the cooks had everything they needed before she headed out the door. The service had started and worship was just ending when she slipped into the last row. She looked across the aisle and her gaze slammed into Matthew’s. She felt her face heat and quickly averted her eyes. A red face was never attractive, especially since she had auburn hair.
Holly’s parents sat near the front. She sucked in a breath. Things still weren’t back to normal with Mom. Yesterday’s conversation with her mother had gone okay, though not great. Why couldn’t Mom accept that she had other goals for her life and becoming a wife and mother were not a top priority for her? Although she had to admit, watching Matthew sledding with Ava and interacting with the little girl at his shop warmed her a little toward the idea of a family of her own. But how could she possibly have a demanding job and be a mom at the same time?
She gave a wry smile. Of course millions of women managed the task. But could she? If past experience was any indicator—no. Focus was always an issue and she wasn’t sure she could divide her attention between a family and a career and be successful at both. She’d have to be content with being an aunt. That is, as soon as Jessica got pregnant again.
A Holiday Proposal Page 7
