“My pleasure, Elsa. See you later.” He backed up a few paces, then stopped. “Do you need help building a fire or anything?”
“No, thank you. I can take it from here.”
He nodded once then turned and walked back toward the street without another word.
Disturbed by how much she wanted him to stay, she slammed the door and locked it then flung off her outerwear and went straight to the bathroom. She filled the tub with hot water and slid in the steaming water. How in the world was she going to get Fred Decker out of her head before he made his way into her heart?
Chapter Eight
“Telegram for you, Miss Lindstrom,” Horace Greenblum said as he stepped into the bakery, waving an envelope over his head.
Elsa fought down a giggle, as she did every time she saw the man hurrying anywhere. With short, bandy legs and a big, round bald head, he did present a rather comical picture.
“Thank you, Mr. Greenblum,” Elsa said, taking the missive from him and quickly setting two cinnamon buns on a piece of brown paper. “Enjoy your day, sir.”
“Oh, I plan on it, Miss Lindstrom. Thank you,” he said, smiling as he took the buns and hastened out the door.
Elsa shoved the telegram inside her apron pocket and continued waiting on her breakfast customers. She assumed the telegram was from Ethan letting her know he’d be home later that day.
Once the breakfast crowd had cleared out, she sat down at the table in the kitchen and opened the telegram.
“How odd,” she said, reading the missive a third time.
BIG SURPRISE. STOP. HOME TOMORROW. STOP. ETHAN
She wondered what sort of surprise had kept her brother in Portland an extra day. In truth, she’d been looking forward to his return for many reasons, not the least of which was the extra pair of hands to help in the bakery. It was impossible for her to manage the place on her own as well as do all the baking and cleanup. She’d mentioned it to Ethan a few times, but she saw a growing need for hired help. There were plenty of people in town who might be interested in the job, especially young people looking for work.
In fact, she might just hire someone to help through the harried holiday baking season. She’d ask Alex Guthry if any of her older, responsible students might like to earn some extra money. In truth, she could use help both in the morning and after school. If Alex didn’t have any suggestions, Elsa would check with Pastor Dodd. The jovial man generally knew much more about what happened in Hardman than anyone suspected.
The bell jangling above the door drew her gaze that direction as Filly Granger breezed inside with her two children. Little Maura Granger flittered in like an impish fairy, strawberry blond curls bouncing beneath the edges of her knit cap, while her baby brother fussed in his mother’s arms. Cullen was close to fifteen months old and did not like to be carried anywhere if he could walk.
Filly set him down then glanced at her five-year-old daughter. “Hold Cullen’s hand, sweetheart, while I talk to Miss Lindstrom.”
“Yes, Mama,” Maura said, snatching her brother’s hand in hers and walking with him so he could press his nose to the glass of the display case. The toddler slapped the glass with the flat of his hand and chattered at his sister.
“Good morning, Elsa,” Filly greeted with a smile. “How does this day find you?”
“Very well, thank you. What brings you and the children out on this nippy morning?”
Filly grinned down at her daughter with an indulgent smile. “Maura begged to take some of your cinnamon buns to school today. I hope you have enough left for the whole class.”
“Oh, I sure do. In fact, if you don’t mind waiting just a moment, I have a pan of them ready to come out of the oven. I’ll just box them up and they should still be warm when you get there.”
“Wonderful!” Filly offered a gracious smile then glanced down to make sure her two lively children were behaving.
Elsa quickly boxed the cinnamon buns then drizzled frosting over the tops. She hoped Alex didn’t mind the sticky fingers the buns would surely make, but the students would be thrilled with the unexpected treat.
She returned out front with the box and set it on the counter. “It’s kind of Maura to want to treat her classmates.”
Filly grinned at her daughter then leaned a little closer to Elsa and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think Maura’s grand gesture is mostly because she wants a cinnamon bun and figures this is the easiest way to get one.”
Elsa laughed and accepted the money Filly handed her for the cinnamon buns. She started to hand her the change, but Filly shook her head. “Would you mind, terribly, setting aside half a dozen more? I’ll pick them up on my way back from leaving Maura at school. Luke and Arlan would surely enjoy a little treat, too.”
“Certainly, Filly. I’d be happy to do that.” Elsa dropped the change into her cash register and closed the drawer. Filly Granger was a beautiful woman, but more importantly, she was kind and full of fun. Elsa could just picture the look on Luke’s face when Filly arrived at the bank bearing sweets.
“I’ll be back soon,” Filly said, then picked up the box in one hand, scooped Cullen up with her other arm and told Maura to run ahead to open the door.
“Bye, Miss Lindstrom,” Maura said with a wave as she held the door for her mother.
“Have a good day, Maura.”
When Filly returned a short while later, most of the breakfast customers had gone. Cullen fussed until Elsa went to the kitchen and brought back a dried crust of sweet bread for him to gnaw. He plopped his bottom on the floor and eagerly chewed on the crust.
“It doesn’t take much to make him happy,” Elsa observed as she handed Filly a smaller box with six cinnamon buns.
“No it doesn’t. He’s rather like his father in that respect. Give him something good to eat, and he’s as happy as he can be.”
Elsa laughed. “I’ll be sure to mention that to Luke next time I see him.”
Filly winked at her. “Oh, he knows it’s true.”
“Do you have time for a cup of tea?” Elsa asked on a whim. She rarely took time out to sit and visit with anyone, but today she felt led to spend a few minutes chatting with Filly.
“Oh, I’d love that. Are you sure you have time?”
“Of course. If you give me a moment, I’ll be back with tea.”
Elsa rushed to the kitchen and made tea then set the teapot, cups and saucers, sugar and cream on a tray. She added napkins and a plate of apple fritters then hurried back out front. Filly sat at a table with Cullen on her lap. The baby alternated between stuffing the bread crust in his mouth and banging it on the table.
“Here we are,” Elsa said, setting down the tray and taking a seat across from Filly. She poured the tea then placed an apple fritter on a plate and slid it over to Filly.
“Oh, this is so delicious,” Filly said, taking a bite of the fritter. “I know we don’t come in often, Elsa, but everything you make tastes wonderful. It’s easy to tell you use the best ingredient of all in your baking.”
“Best ingredient? What’s that?” Elsa asked, confused.
Filly grinned. “Love.”
Elsa smiled and blushed with pride. “Thank you. I think that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received about my baking.”
“Well, it’s true. Now, tell me, where is your brother? Luke said he’s been out of town the last few days.”
“Ethan went to Portland to purchase supplies from a wholesaler there. We use so much flour, sugar, and the like, it’s much more cost effective to buy directly from them.” Elsa glanced around to make sure they were alone. “I do hope it doesn’t offend the Bruners by not ordering those supplies from them.”
“I’m sure George and Aleta understand. Besides I’ve seen you in their mercantile shopping.” Filly took another bite of her fritter then broke off a tiny little piece for Cullen. The baby gobbled it up and grinned at his mother.
“Mo, Mama, mo!”
“He is just like his father,” Elsa teased an
d both women laughed.
For the next twenty minutes, they visited about the town, the holidays, and even exchanged recipes.
While Filly slipped on her coat, Elsa helped Cullen into his coat and tugged on his hat. The baby grinned at her and patted her face, happily jabbering in his own language. Elsa playfully nibbled on his fingers and made him giggle. The little dimple in his chin, a replica of his father’s, popped out while his eyes twinkled with merriment.
“This one looks just like his daddy,” Elsa observed, envisioning the handsome man Cullen would become.
Filly smiled and cupped her son’s little chin. “He certainly does. Acts like him, too. I’m not sure yet if that’s a good thing or not.”
Elsa laughed again then handed Cullen to Filly and retrieved the box of cinnamon buns. “Thank you for staying a while, Filly. It was lovely to visit.”
“I enjoyed it, too. Please don’t be a stranger. You and Ethan are always welcome at Granger House.”
“Thank you. I hope Luke and Arlan enjoy their treat.” Elsa held the door as Filly stepped outside into the morning sunshine. It appeared as though it would be a beautiful day. One she wouldn’t necessarily get to enjoy, but she loved seeing the sunshine. It brightened her mood and her heart, much like Filly’s visit had done.
She watched as Filly strode down the street and entered the bank. Elsa could just imagine Luke’s excitement when Filly handed him the box of cinnamon buns. Arlan would most likely have to fight to get his share.
The Granger men, who included Blake Stratton since he had married into the family, enjoyed good food. How they ate so heartily and managed to remain so fit befuddled Elsa, but she supposed all the hard work they did kept them trim and healthy.
Thinking of healthy, robust men drew her thoughts right back around to Fred. She’d hoped he’d start stopping by the bakery again after he’d unwittingly scared her the other evening, but he’d been noticeably absent.
Whatever kept him away was for the best. She repeated that statement multiple times the following afternoon when he once again hadn’t shown up for breakfast or lunch. Was he cooking for himself? Eating at the restaurant or the boardinghouse? Why did she care what he did?
With a roll of her eyes, she punched down bread dough and whipped cake batter with more force than was absolutely necessary.
Dark shadows stretched lazily across the late afternoon sky before she heard the stamping of boots at the back door. She hurriedly wiped her hands on a dishtowel and turned to see Ethan rush inside.
He looked so different, so happy, she almost didn’t recognize her twin.
“Oh, baby, it’s good to see you!” Ethan said, sweeping her into a hug and swinging her around in a big circle before he set her on her feet.
“My word, Ethan! What has gotten into you?” she asked, grinning at his exuberant greeting.
“Everything!” he said and took her hand in his, leading her to the front of the bakery. “The most amazing, wonderful thing happened while I was in Portland.”
“And that’s why you’re a day late?” she asked, peering outside and seeing the wagon full of supplies parked outside.
“Yes. Elsa, there’s something I need to tell you. Something that…”
“Honey, it’s too cold to wait outside,” a woman said as she opened the door. She sailed inside the bakery and right into Ethan’s arms.
Ethan lifted her up and kissed her square on the mouth, much to Elsa’s astonishment. Too stunned to speak, she glared at her brother and the hussy he kissed. In truth, he kissed the woman so passionately, Elsa questioned if the two of them realized they were in a public place and not a private room.
Finally, the woman pushed against Ethan and giggled nervously. “Let me go, honey, for now.”
“Never,” Ethan growled and kissed her again before setting her back on her feet, although he kept an arm looped around her slim shoulders.
The woman wore a nut-brown traveling suit of excellent quality. She had dark brown hair, eyes the color of molasses, and an easy smile. And, from what Elsa could tell, was completely besotted with Ethan.
Still unable to find her voice, Elsa merely gaped at her brother and the mystery woman.
“Elsa, this is Charlotte Ann Goodman…” Ethan paused and kissed the woman’s cheek, “Lindstrom.”
As her shock turned to disbelief then anger, Elsa pinned her brother with an icy glare. “Lindstrom? You mean you married this…. this…”
“Beautiful, amazing, magnificent woman? Yep, I certainly did. We wed yesterday morning,” Ethan said, oblivious to the fury snapping in Elsa’s eyes or the uncertainty darting through his bride’s dark gaze.
Elsa bit her tongue so hard to keep from saying something she shouldn’t, she could taste blood. She swallowed twice before she trusted herself to speak. “Goodman? Are you related to Mr. Goodman, the wholesaler?”
“That’s my daddy,” the girl chirped, clearly pleased Elsa made the association. “The moment Ethan walked in our store I knew he was the man I was going to marry.”
“And the moment I saw this pretty girl, I knew she was the one for me.” Ethan dropped a kiss on his bride’s temple, drawing out her sigh of contentment.
Elsa wanted to be ill. What had this little trollop done to her beloved brother? Bewitched him? Cast a spell on him? Promised him bargain prices on the products they needed to purchase?
“Look, El, I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I wanted to surprise you.” Ethan noticed, for the first time since his arrival at the bakery, his sister’s less than enthusiastic response to his news.
“You certainly accomplished that,” she grumbled then took a deep, cleansing breath. No matter how much Elsa loathed the interloper who’d sunk her dainty little claws into her brother’s heart, Ethan was good and truly wed and she supposed she’d have to make the best of it. With another breath, she straightened her spine, pasted on a smile, and nodded politely to her sister-in-law. “Welcome to Hardman, Charlotte.”
Two hours later, Elsa wanted to bang her head against the kitchen table in hopes it might render her unconscious and she’d wake up to have the news of Ethan’s marriage just be a terrible, horrible dream.
Instead, she listened to Lottie, the nickname her sister-in-law insisted she be called, giggle at every inane thing Ethan said. It was enough to turn one’s stomach sour.
Although she’d prepared a traditional Swedish feast for dinner, Elsa had hardly been able to swallow a bite. Forced to endure watching her brother make a fool of himself over his petite little wife was bad enough, but Ethan had gotten Fred to help him unload the wagon and insisted the man stay for supper, too.
At first, Fred had offered compliments for her cooking, saying it was one of the best meals he’d ever had. After her continued stony silence and frigid glares toward the end of the table where Ethan and Lottie made moony-eyes at each other, Fred kept his thoughts to himself and shoveled in the food as fast as possible. By the time they finished dessert, a cream-filled layer cake with a thick topping of whipped cream and berry syrup, Fred thanked her for the meal, offered a word of congratulations to Ethan, and then raced out the door.
Coward, Elsa thought as she watched his departing form. He could have at least taken her with him because she wanted nothing more than to run away from her brother and his wife.
In the back of her mind, Elsa knew this day would come. The day when she and her twin would no longer be the most important person in the other one’s world. But even knowing it would happen hadn’t prepared her for the onslaught of emotions rippling over her heart.
Unable to stand Lottie’s giggling another moment, Elsa sent Ethan and his bride on to the house. She washed the dishes alone, but in peaceful silence.
When she finished, she slumped down at the table and considered how long she’d spend in jail if she throttled her sister-in-law or her brother. It was impossible to decide which one of the two she disliked the most right at the moment.
Part of her knew she
should be happy for Ethan, to share in his joy, but he’d lost his ever-loving mind if he thought he could walk into a store, fall in love, and get married the next day and declare it true love. It was ridiculous. Absolutely absurd!
Maybe he’d been drugged. Perhaps Lottie had served him tea laced with something that rendered him incapable of rational thought.
Then again, she’d seen Ethan go from one fascination to the next over the years. His latest had been his preoccupation with becoming a cowboy. Even that had started to wane as he mentioned pursuing a musical career. He’d been thoroughly fascinated with coronets after seeing the DeMoss family perform.
What if Lottie was just his current hobby?
What would the poor girl do if Ethan tired of her as quickly as he did of his other projects? What would her stupid brother do if he woke up one day, saddled with a wife he no longer wanted?
Elsa dropped her head to the arms she’d folded on top of the table and prayed. She prayed for patience and wisdom, and a heaping dose of faith to see them through the coming days that she was sure would be full of trials and tribulations.
“And why did he have to turn into a lunatic right before our busiest season?” she whined, allowing herself a moment to wallow in self-pity. Ethan would be no help to her or the bakery in his current love-struck state.
Determined to rein in her thoughts and gain control of her emotions, she banked the fire in the stove, made sure the front door was locked, turned off the lights, and slipped on her coat.
While her inclination was to dawdle on the way home, the freezing temperatures forced her to hurry. Once she thought she caught someone following her, but when she turned around no one was there.
Unsettled by the feeling of being watched, she picked up her skirts and ran the rest of the way home.
She let herself in the front door and locked it, removed her outerwear then stood in the entry a moment, waiting for her pounding heart to settle.
The house seemed oddly quiet. She walked through the front room to find Ethan hadn’t bothered to build a fire in the fireplace.
The Christmas Confection Page 10
