The Christmas Confection

by Shanna Hatfield

  Heat surged through him again as he watched her laugh at something her brother said. She was so pretty and sweet, so innocent and perfect. Fred had no business spending time with her, yearning after her. After tonight, he’d leave her alone. This meant he only had an hour or two to fill his heart with enough of Elsa’s light and laughter to last him a lifetime.

  Thankfully, when it was time to leave, Ethan was busy asking Luke about his preferences in cattle. Fred helped Elsa on with her coat then they stepped outside into the frigid November night.

  A sliver of moon hung in the sky, and stars twinkled overhead like thousands of wishes yet to be made. Fred took Elsa’s elbow in his hand and guided her along the boardwalk.

  “Even if it’s cold out, it’s such a lovely night,” Elsa said in a quiet voice, as though she hesitated to break the magical spell being woven around them.

  “It is a nice evening,” Fred agreed. What made it special wasn’t the moon or stars, but the woman beside him.

  He certainly couldn’t tell her that though. Not when this would be the end of his futile attempts to court her. She deserved far, far better than the likes of Fred Decker.

  Silence settled over them as they made their way back to her house. Fred walked her up the steps and waited as she unlocked the door then stepped inside and flicked on a light. “Would you like to come in for a while to warm up before you go home?” she asked, removing her hat and gloves.

  Fred moved inside and held her coat as she pulled her arms from the sleeves then hung it by the door. He snatched off his hat and clutched it in both hands to keep from reaching out to her.

  “I best get on home, Elsa. Maude’s expecting me.”

  Her posture stiffened as she glared at him. “Maude? You never mentioned anyone named Maude before.”

  He tossed her a rakish grin. “Oh, she’s a real sweetheart, that Maude. She waits for me to get home then cozies right up to me. It used to take a while, but now that she’s comfortable with me, I can have her purring in no time at all.”

  Elsa’s eyes widened as she gaped at him. “Mr. Decker! That is not… you shouldn’t… I think it’s best if you just…

  Fred laughed and twirled his hat in his hand. “I’m just teasing you, Elsa. Maude is my cat.” He moved a step back. “I really should get home, though. Thank you for making this evening memorable.”

  She smiled and took a step closer to him. “I didn’t do a thing, Fred. It was fun to go with you.” Her gaze roved over him and she moved back. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of hot tea before you go home? It is quite chilly out this evening.”

  “No. I’m fine, but thank you.” He moved toward the open portal, aware cold seeped into the house. “Thanks, again, Elsa. I guess I’ll, um… see you around.”

  In spite of the disappointment he sensed from her, he backed out the door. However, he made the mistake of continuing to observe her, saw her shiver. When he raised his gaze to hers, an unmistakable look of longing lingered in her beautiful eyes.

  “Well, dang it all to pieces,” Fred muttered before his boot-clad foot kicked the door shut and he tossed his hat aside. Without stopping to think about his actions, he pulled Elsa into his arms. He hadn’t planned to kiss her, to hold her, to love her, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  One minute he’d been standing in the cold, the next, his body felt as though it had been lit on fire. He held Elsa close to his chest and lowered his mouth to hers in a tender, light kiss. When she didn’t slap him or jerk away, he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

  Pleasure rode her features. When she opened her eyes, he saw acceptance and invitation there. It was all the encouragement he needed to lower his mouth to hers again. His hands slid around her waist, drawing her closer.

  All along, he’d known she’d taste sweet, but he wasn’t prepared for the warm nectar of her mouth or the desperate longing he’d feel for her.

  One kiss turned to two then more as she met his demands, offered her own, stirring something deep inside him that had rested dormant until that very moment. The kiss deepened and he lifted her in his arms, holding her up as he lavished her with impassioned affection.

  As quickly as he’d lost his sense, he regained it and gently set her back on her feet. He released his hold and she looked as though she might crumple to the floor. Fred reached out to her, but she took a step back, leaning against the wall for support. Her swollen just-kissed mouth and the dazed expression on her face speared him with guilt.

  “Elsa, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t… I didn’t…”

  She placed her fingers on his lips, silencing him. “Good night, Fred. Thank you, for an evening I’ll always remember.”

  He nodded once, grabbed his hat, and left before he hauled her into his arms again and this time refused to let go.

  Chapter Seven

  “I should stay,” Ethan said as he settled his hat on his head and picked up the valise he’d set by the door.

  “I’ll be fine, Ethan, but you really must go purchase our supplies.” Elsa wrapped a scarf around her brother’s neck and handed him a pair of thick gloves. “If you don’t, we’ll end up paying twice as much and lose half our profit.”

  “Fine, but let it be known I don’t like leaving you here alone. Not one bit,” Ethan said, glancing outside at bits of snow and ice blowing in the cold breeze. “I’m likely to freeze to death before I ever reach Heppner.”

  “Oh, you won’t freeze, you big baby. There are enough blankets in that freight wagon to keep you and six people warm.” She glanced outside at the team, tossing their heads and jangling harnesses as they impatiently waited to be on their way. “It was nice of Mr. McIntosh at the livery to let us borrow the wagon and horses in trade for some baking. Are you sure you can handle the horses?”

  Ethan bristled and opened the door. “I’m sure. You just be sure you stay out of trouble. And for goodness sakes, don’t try and shovel the walk either here or at home by yourself. I’ll take care of it when I get back if it snows again.”

  “I’ll behave,” she said, snatching up a shawl and following her brother outside. “Who would have thought we’d get so much snow that you’d have to postpone your trip.” She turned up his coat collar and pulled it closer around his neck then fussed with his scarf until he captured her hands in his. “Just be safe, Ethan.”

  “I will. And you be sure to stay inside where it’s warm. If we don’t get another unexpected blizzard, I’ll be back the day after tomorrow with this wagon full of supplies so you can bake to your heart’s content.”

  “I’m not baking to my heart’s content, but for the holidays, and you know it. When you get back, I’ll have kroppkakor and roasted pork ready for dinner.” Elsa knew the little potato dumplings stuffed with bacon and onion were one of her brother’s favorite things to eat, especially when she served them with pork that had roasted all day and practically melted in the mouth with tenderness.

  “You’re good to me, El,” Ethan said with a grin then strode around the wagon.

  She watched as he swung up onto the wagon seat and pulled a heavy woolen blanket over his lap and up under his armpits. When he was settled, she handed him a lantern, since it was still dark out. “Promise to be careful and to not let Mr. Gooding talk you into spending a penny more than the amount we agreed upon.”

  “I promise. Now get inside before you freeze off your nose and toes, baby. See you in a few days.” Ethan gave the reins a flick. The horses leaned into the harness and the wind, pulling the wagon forward with a loud creak.

  Elsa stood in front of the bakery and watched her brother drive through the early morning darkness until he disappeared from sight then hurried back inside and shut the door behind her. She clicked the lock, tossed her shawl on a hook by the door, then entered the kitchen where she’d already made Ethan breakfast, serving him thin Swedish pancakes filled with freshly whipped cream and some of the summer berries she’d canned. He’d also eaten half a dozen pieces of bacon and three fried e
ggs. She’d packed a basket full of sandwiches, cookies, and apples for him to eat on the train. Hopefully, he wouldn’t snack on the food and have it gone before he ever got to Heppner.

  They’d both risen at three that morning so Ethan could get on the road and arrive in Heppner in time to catch the morning train to Portland. He was sure the wind and snow wouldn’t prevent the train from leaving, since everyone said the Farmer’s Almanac predicted nice weather in the coming week.

  She certainly hoped the almanac was correct. The frigid snowstorms of the last two weeks had left her wishing for springtime, or at least a return to the beautiful autumn weather they’d enjoyed.

  Each time she considered autumn, her mind drifted back to the afternoon she’d spent with Fred by the stream. What a lovely, wonderful day that had been.

  From there, her thoughts dwelled on the unbelievably romantic moment she’d spent with him as they said good night the evening of the musical performance. Fred had pulled her into his brawny arms and held her against his muscled chest then kissed her with a passion she’d never even dreamed of experiencing.

  Unfortunately, she hadn’t spoken to him since.

  Oh, it wasn’t a lack of trying or interest on her part. Rather, Fred had avoided her as though she bore a tag pinned to her apron that proclaimed she carried some horrid disease. He hadn’t stepped foot in the bakery. At church, he sat in the back and escaped before she had a chance to speak with him.

  Perhaps he found her inexperience in kissing intolerable, or maybe he tired of her dull conversation. Although she couldn’t help but recall him calling her a Christmas confection, one she’d gotten the idea that he liked and admired. Yet, here she was, two weeks later, wondering what she’d done to chase him away.

  Regardless, she had better things to do with her day than pine after a man who acted so strangely.

  It would be December in a few days, and Elsa had plenty to keep her busy as she hand-lettered an order form to hang in the bakery. After last year’s frenzy of last-minute bakery orders, she strived for more organization and less chaos this year. She hoped if she posted a sheet and people could specify what they wanted to order and when they’d like to pick it up, she wouldn’t spend the week before Christmas working herself into a stupor, staying up all night to complete the demands by Christmas Eve.

  The cold weather, if it lasted, would work in her favor because she could make things ahead of time and store them in the cellar she insisted they construct beneath the shop. A partially dug one existed when they purchased the building, but Ethan had hired a few boys to dig the rest of the space. Fred and two other men stabilized it, adding support beams, a wooden floor, and plenty of shelves for storage. One particular corner stayed extremely cold. Fred and the workmen walled in that corner, adding a thick heavy door. Elsa was able to use it to store foods that would otherwise rapidly perish.

  Quickly finishing the order form and leaving it near the cash register out front, she returned to the kitchen and began her daily baking.

  As she formed dinner rolls then mixed the filling for cinnamon buns, she thought about the treats she planned to make for the holidays. In addition to traditional gingerbread, she would make butter cookies, almond tarts, coffee cakes with nuts and dried cherries, sour cream twists, fried rosettes dusted with powdery sugar, creamy bun cakes, spicy cardamom drops, and delicate little cookies filled with sweet berry jam.

  She also planned to bake oodles of pies and make fudge and toffee. Perhaps, one evening, she’d even offer to host a community taffy pull. She and Ethan talked about doing it last year, but there hadn’t been time.

  Elsa let her mind wander to the holiday ahead as she slid loaves of yeasty bread into the oven and set a large pot of chunked beef to simmering on a back burner. Later, she would add vegetables and serve it for lunch with hot biscuits and slices of apple pie.

  She knew Fred loved stew with apple pie, but she somehow doubted he’d make an appearance today. Why would today be any different than the last few weeks? She just wished he’d be more forthcoming with his reasons for staying away.

  Annoyed her thoughts continued to travel around to the infuriating man, she focused on preparing breakfast for the customers sure to fill her shop in a few minutes.

  Elsa changed into a clean apron, tucked a loose strand of hair back into the braid encircling the crown of her head, and hurried to unlock the front door.

  The only person outside was Fred. He cast a startled glance at her as he shoveled snow off the walk and away from the door.

  “Come in for a cup of hot tea,” she said, then spun around, not waiting for his answer.

  She heard the scrape of his shovel against the boardwalk a few more times. The stamping of boots on the mat in front of the door carried inside before frosty air swirled around her as he entered the bakery.

  “How have you been?” Fred asked as he blew on his chilly hands and moved to stand across the front counter from her.

  “Fine. And you?” she asked, pouring a mug full of tea and sliding it across the counter to him.

  “Well enough, I reckon,” he said, wrapping his cold fingers around the mug. He blew on the hot liquid and took a drink.

  Elsa’s gaze fastened on his lips and her thoughts shifted to how much she’d enjoyed Fred’s kisses, how much she wished he’d kiss her again.

  Aggravated with herself, and with Fred, she slammed the door on her wishes. She had a bakery to run and no time for romantic nonsense, like dreaming a handsome man would once again take her in his strong arms and kiss her senseless. It happened once and she decided that would have to be enough to last her a lifetime.

  “Take a seat and I’ll bring you some breakfast,” she said, then bustled into the kitchen.

  She hurried to whip together a new recipe she’d tried and served to Ethan. Her brother said it was good, so she’d let Fred sample it and offer his opinion. In the past, when they were merely friends, she’d often served him something she hadn’t yet perfected, knowing he’d tell her it was good then, if she pressed, let her know what he liked and didn’t. If she wasn’t so irritated with Fred, she would have asked him if he’d be willing to sample the half-dozen new cookie recipes she wanted to try.

  While his breakfast baked, she scrambled a big pan of eggs and began slicing a ham she’d left baking in the oven overnight.

  The noisy jangle of the bell above the door alerted her to the arrival of her morning customers. She served them, refilled Fred’s teacup, then returned to the kitchen. She removed his baked pancake from the oven, shook a little cinnamon over the top, then sprinkled it with a handful of cheese she’d shredded. After sliding it onto a plate, she grabbed a napkin, fork and knife, then carried it out to Fred.

  People were busy eating and talking, and paid no mind to her as she set the plate in front of Fred.

  “What’s this?” he asked, accepting the napkin and cutlery she held out to him.

  “A baked pancake. It has apples in it with cinnamon and cheese on top.” She lingered, waiting for him to take a bite.

  Hesitant, he lifted the fork. “Cheese? On a pancake?”

  At her nod, he cut a piece and took a bite. After he chewed and swallowed, he took a long sip of his tea then leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. “I like it. The cheese and the apple work well together.”

  Elsa released the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. “What else? Is it sweet enough? Does it need more cinnamon? Less cheese?”

  “The cheese and cinnamon are good, the apples are great. Maybe just a little sweeter, like a dusting of sugar on top.”

  “Oh, that’s brilliant!” Elsa hurried into the kitchen and returned with a little cup of sugar and a spoon. She drifted sugar over the top of the pancake then waited while Fred took another bite.

  “Perfect,” he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Don’t change a thing.”

  In spite of her plans to remain angry at him for ignoring her, she beamed at him before returning to the kitc
hen.

  The morning rush passed quickly. When all the customers were gone, Elsa gathered the dirty dishes and washed them, wiped down the tables and counter, and readied for the lunch crowd.

  By the time she left that evening, she was beyond exhausted. She just wanted to soak her tired body in a hot bath then curl up in her bed and sleep.

  She was a block away from the bakery when she heard footsteps behind her. Without turning around, she hastened her pace, eager to reach the safety of her home. The steps behind her quickened, too.

  Frightened, she lifted her skirts, prepared to run when a hand grabbed her arm and she yelped in fear.

  “It’s just me,” Fred said, letting go and stepping back.

  “My stars, Fred Decker! You about scared me half to death.” She glared at him as her breath came in tight, short gasps while her heart beat erratically from fright. “Don’t sneak up on a body like that!”

  “I wasn’t sneaking up on you. You must have that scarf wrapped too tightly around your ears, because I called to you twice right after you stepped out of the bakery.”

  “Oh,” she said, somewhat mollified that he hadn’t been trying to sneak up on her. “What did you need?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you made it home okay. I know Ethan usually walks you home and with him gone…” Fred shrugged and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets.

  “I wouldn’t be adverse to you walking with me the rest of the way.” Elsa turned from Fred and continued walking home.

  He fell into step beside her, although he remained oddly silent. At her front door, he waited until she unlocked it and stepped inside.

  Memories of the last time he walked her home, of his arms around her, holding her to his powerful chest, made her cheeks burn with heat. She took another step back and flicked on the light in the entry. “Thank you, Fred. I appreciate you seeing me home. And I thank you for shoveling off the walk this morning.”