Cinnamon and Sinfulness

by Katherine Hayton

  “I think this is for you,” Meggie said as they wound up the reveries for the night, each preparing to head back home.

  Holly looked over to see her friend waving a plastic bag with her name written on it. Even in marker pen on a used supermarket bag, Holly could recognize Crystal’s handwriting.

  She took it and hefted the weight. Not too heavy. Holly smoothed the side of the plastic against the contents to try to guess what was inside.

  Meggie snorted. “Or, you know, you could just tear it open and have a look. It doesn’t say you need to keep it until Christmas or whatever.”

  “Okay. Just give me a second.”

  Holly plucked at the edge of the plastic, gritting her teeth a little in frustration as the material stretched rather than tore.

  “Do I need to fetch you scissors?” Meggie stood with one hand on her hip.

  With a laugh, Holly went one better than that and put her teeth to the task at hand. With the tear started, it was the matter of a second to pull the rest of the bag apart.

  “It’s her bouquet!” Meggie said in a tone of voice suspiciously close to a squeal of excitement.

  Holly pulled out the full bunch of flowers and sniffed at them. Since Wendy had picked them fresh out of her garden just that morning, they still had a lovely scent rising from them—like fresh sunshine and earth.

  It was as she lowered them that Holly saw the note tagged onto the ribbon that tied the bouquet together. She flipped it over to read. Since the ceremony got a bit distracted, I never got the chance to toss this over my shoulder. Even if I had, you know that I would have aimed for you. Here’s all the best wishes in finding YOUR perfect match!

  Tears pricked at Holly’s eyes as she read the note. Even after everything that had happened today, her sister took the time to think of her. Coming back to town and reconnecting with Crystal had been the best decision of her life.

  “Does this mean that there’ll be nuptials in the air for you before too long?” Brian teased as he caught sight of the gift.

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Holly said with a laugh. For the time being, her friends and family would have to do.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Holly closed the back door behind her as she stepped onto the porch. Petey was already out there, and he nosed closer, sniffing with interest at her bowl of stir-fry.

  Even though the golden retriever had already eaten his way through a bowl of food and a couple of treats, he expressed far too much attention for Holly to have any recourse except to share. She pulled out a prime piece of steak, the fat glistening in a streak along the length, and dropped it into Petey’s waiting mouth. After a satisfied chomp that took all of a second, Petey nuzzled into Holly’s side, looking for more.

  “You’ll get fat if you overeat all the time,” Holly lectured him as she fed the dog another bite. “It’s the snacks between the meals that cause all the harm. I read it in a magazine, so it must be true.”

  As usual, Petey greeted her words with the melted-eyed devotion of an acolyte. Holly fed him another chunk of meat from her plate for listening to her so thoroughly.

  When she finished her meal and walked inside, it was just in time to hear a knock at the front door. Holly put her plate into the sink and ran the few steps down the hallway. Petey decided it was a game and gave chase. With one hand on his collar to prevent him from leaping over the unknown guest, Holly opened the door with the other. For a second, she was so puzzled at the person standing there that she let Petey go.

  “Oops,” Willis said as he grabbed hold of Petey’s front legs. The dog had decided to leap up against the man’s chest, and for a moment, it appeared the two were dancing. “Go back inside, mate,” Willis told Petey. “I’m not here to rob the place.”

  Petey obediently ran back inside and circled around to end up sitting beside Holly. “Is there something the matter?” she asked, still puzzled as to why Willis would be standing on her doorstep.

  “Nothing like that.” Willis ran a hand through his hair and looked down the street. “Is there any chance I can come inside?”

  Holly felt flustered as she remembered her manners. “Of course. Petey, go out the back,” she ordered. Unlike when Willis had spoken, the dog chose to completely ignore her command.

  She shooed him out onto the back porch with manual force, leaving Petey standing with his paws flat against the door, his eyes melting with sadness.

  “Don’t you look at me like that,” Holly briefly scolded. “It’ll just be a few minutes. Go chase a rabbit or something.”

  Petey chose the option of ‘or something,’ remaining in place with his face crammed up against the glass.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Holly asked as she seated Willis at the dining table. He perched on the edge of the chair, looking ridiculously large against the furniture where Holly was used to seeing Crystal. Although she hadn’t paid much attention at the wedding, the man must be well over six-foot-tall with the broad shoulders of a lumberjack to match.

  “I’m good, thanks. I don’t mean to trouble you,” Willis said, his eyes looking anywhere but at Holly’s face. “I just wondered…” He trailed off and rubbed his hand through the back of his hair again. The strands stood out on end, seemingly unused to the attention.

  “What was it that you wanted?” Holly asked, her curiosity piqued. Willis seemed so out of place in her dining room that she couldn’t imagine for a moment why he’d come around to visit.

  “Would you like to go out for a meal sometime?” Willis asked.

  The question was so unexpected that Holly sat back in her chair, scrambling for something to say. Willis finally glanced directly at her face and must have seen an expression there that didn’t fit with what he wanted. Once again, his hand combed backward up through his hair, and he rose to his feet, towering over her.

  “I’m sorry,” Holly said. “I wasn’t expecting that. Please sit down.”

  “No, that’s all right. I guess I misunderstood the situation. It was a long shot,” Willis said, edging over toward the hallway and the escape route of the front door.

  “Please sit down,” Holly said in a firm voice.

  Although Willis still looked like he wanted nothing more than to escape the house, he obeyed her instruction and slunk back to perch on the edge of his chair again.

  Holly gazed at Willis’s face, so unlike any man she’d ever dated before. He was rugged, his skin holding the tan of a man who lived his life mostly outdoors. For a second, she could imagine the smell he’d bring home with him after a day out hunting. The fresh pine scent of the woods cutting through the musky odor of flannel and sweat.

  At that moment, Holly craved that odor so much that she could taste it. Her body yearned for the touch of his hand, warm against hers. But then her logical mind stepped in to override her desire.

  “It seemed to me,” she began in a tentative voice, “that at the wedding, you were still very attached to Nina.”

  Willis shot her a glance through wary eyes, his face tensed for rejection or some other infliction of pain. “I got on with her, that’s true.”

  “I’ve just recently broken up with someone, myself,” Holly said. “And that came hard on the heels of my marriage of a decade falling apart. I’m flattered that you asked me, but I don’t think either of us is in a position to start dating at the moment.”

  Willis nodded and stared down at his hands, wringing together in his lap. The gesture of nervousness on such a large man made Holly’s heart melt a little.

  “How about you come back in a year?” she suggested.

  Willis peeked up at her face again through lowered lashes, as though checking to see if she was teasing him. A half-smile began to play at the corner of his mouth. “A year?”

  Holly nodded. “Yes. I think that’s enough time for both of us to deal with what we need to. If you change your mind in the meantime, it’s no worry. You can go your way, and I can go mine.”

  “A year,” Willis
said in a low, musing tone. “I reckon I could remember to do that.”

  Holly smiled. “Then we’ll make it a date.”

  She saw Willis out of the house, waving as he walked down the road toward the center of the township with a jaunty step. As he turned the corner, Holly had to fight the urge to call him back and say yes, she’d go out with him. Right then and there, if that was what he wanted.

  Instead, she closed the door and went out back to free Petey from his torment of separation.

  “You’re all the man I need at the moment,” Holly told him as she rubbed the thick scruff of fur around Petey’s neck. The dog’s eyes half closed in an ecstasy of appreciation, then opened again when Holly reached for the old tennis ball that he’d made his own.

  “Go fetch,” she called out, Petey already running before she threw the ball, not needing the slightest bit of encouragement. He pounced on the yellow tennis ball and started to try to chew on its corner, using his front paws to hold it in place.

  “Don’t kill it, Petey. Bring it back here.” Holly patted her knees, and the dog raced back to her, jumping up and down with excitement as she bent down to pick up the ball again.

  “Ugh. Did you have to slobber on it quite that badly?” Holly asked, holding the ball carefully between her forefinger and thumb. Petey cocked his head to one side, his expression such a perfect composition of ‘so what’ that Holly burst out laughing.

  She threw the ball again and wiped her hand on the grass after. Her skirt was covered in dog hairs, and her skin retained the smell of his coat, the oils rubbing off where she’d patted him.

  As the sun hit her in the last of the day’s light, the sky above Holly turned a bright mix of vibrant golds and reds, standing out like a swathe of jewels against the darkening blue. The edge of the clouds glowed with such a radiant light that she could barely stand to stare straight at them.

  Petey bounded back to her, dropping the increasingly mangled tennis ball at her feet. As Holly patted down his side before tossing the ball again, she thought of how she’d felt arriving back in her hometown over a year before.

  At that time, her career had been on the line, and her marriage had been gurgling down the plughole. The guilt over not visiting her father had been made all the keener by his recent death.

  Holly had driven into town with her life in a complete shambles around her. The only reason she’d begun to pitch in at the family bakery was because she hadn’t wanted to tell Crystal that they needed to shut up shop and try to sell.

  Now, here she was, the bakery turned from a loss-making enterprise into a booming business that they might be able to expand if trade kept growing. She’d had her heart broken, but it was on the mend, and Holly felt sure that it would end up in a sturdier position than before.

  The joy of her new pet was a boon to her life that she hadn’t anticipated. To walk home at night, knowing that Petey would greet her with affection, no matter how she looked or what her day had contained, was a blessing that filled a gaping hole in her heart.

  Holly had made good friends, people that she could genuinely depend upon rather than just names on a Christmas card list. She’d reconnected with her sister and loved Crystal all the more intensely due to her growth in respect for how hard she worked and how deeply she cared.

  “One more throw, or should we go inside?” Holly asked as Petey bounded back to her. He dropped the ball at her feet and bounced up and down with joy. The expression on his face was so rapturous that Holly mimicked his actions, hopping up and down on the spot.

  “Okay, you talked me into it,” she told Petey before throwing the ball and sitting down to wait for him to bring it back to her.

  At that moment in time, Holly couldn’t imagine her life feeling any more complete.

  THANKS FOR READING!

  I hope you enjoyed the Sweet Baked Mystery series as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

  If you’d like to try another of my cozy mystery series, check out Pushing Up Daisies from the Tea Shop Cozy Mystery Series

  I’ve included a chapter in the pages following to give you a taste

  Pushing Up Daisies - Chapter One

  “Don’t worry about that,” Willow Foxglove said, ushering her best-friend Harmony toward the front door. “You can return it when you want to. It’s not like I’m going to hunt you down and force you to pay late fees.”

  Harmony turned on the threshold, looking back. “But I feel so bad—”

  “Nonsense.” Willow started to pull the door shut, despite her friend turning back to face her. “When have I ever given you a reason to worry about returning books on time? I’m not a librarian.”

  “No.” Harmony gave a small shrug and a giggle, stepping back. “You’re far too loud for that!”

  Willow started to relax as her friend backed up another step. If Willow could say goodbye right this second, she’d have just enough time left to replace the herbs with freshly cut stems from the garden. After that, she could have the tea things poured, ready and waiting for her guest to arrive at six o’clock. Or thereabouts. He’d been tardy a few times recently.

  As Harmony stepped toward her again, Willow hoped today was one of those days her guest was running late. Usually, her best friend’s company was a treasured thing, but today…well. Today, it seemed like Harmony was overstaying her welcome.

  Almost suspiciously overstaying.

  “Bye,” Willow said, hurriedly closing the door before Harmony could manage to get back inside.

  She leaned her forehead against the door, feeling her heart race in her chest as she listened to the sounds of her friend leaving. As soon as the familiar clunk of the car door came, Willow stepped back and smoothed down the front of her dress.

  She wanted to change before her guest arrived, but that would have to wait until after she’d visited the garden.

  From long years of habit, Willow pulled on an apron from the back of the kitchen door as she went outside. It had never been used for cooking, but she liked to keep her clothes as clean as possible from the potential garden stains, so she often wore it outside the house. Gloves, too. They protected her soft hands from the sharp barbs of the wild roses or the occasional nettle.

  Willow closed her eyes and tipped her head back to feel the last full rays of the sun. It would be heading over the yardarm soon—at this time of year, it ran away quicker and quicker each day.

  There was nothing in the world Willow loved more than her garden. She knelt down and pulled the wide-open buds of chamomile toward her. The last of the season. After a second’s inhalation to appreciate their full scent, Willow snipped off three large daisy heads. The sharp green tang of cutting filled the air. Sweet and sad. Willow plucked a weed out near the path’s edge before it could take root and flourish. Next up, a few sprigs of fresh mint.

  Willow couldn’t resist twisting out of the mint leaves between her forefingers, then burying her nose into her cupped hand, inhaling the delicious scent.

  A pest—her mother had taught her growing up. Mint would get into everything and anything if given half the chance. The lessons had been heeded well by Willow, and her stock of mint was in a separate bed with wooden framing buried deep in the ground on each side, to box it in below the soil.

  With a small groan, Willow got to her feet, then looked over her shoulder to check that nobody was around to hear. Far more disturbing than finding the first gray in her honey-blonde hair had been realizing that she made a sound every time she got up from the couch. That was old age—everybody knew it—and the one sign that distressed Willow above all else.

  She walked back to the side of the house, rinsing her snips under the garden hose, then wiping the blades with a soft cloth before hanging them up in the shed. Each tool had its spot, marking out in white paint on the old wood. Satisfied that everything was in its place and all was right in the world, Willow walked back inside with her treasures from the garden.

  There was a drying rack always hanging in the kitchen, and she
quickly pinned up the herbs to that. The flowerheads and leaves Willow would use for the tea tonight were already dried and ready. Take one thing out and replace it—that was the secret to a well-prepared life.

  Only a few minutes to go now. Willow raced into her bedroom, untying her dress as she went, ready to plunge her arms into the new one laid out on the bed.

  When the knock at the door came, Willow raised her head, eyes wide as she glanced at the clock. Early? It seemed so unlike her guest.

  Still…

  Willow zipped up her dress and flung on a crocheted cardigan as a barrier against the encroaching cold. The sunlight had faded to the very edge of the window—all heat gone. She flicked on the lights to the room as she went out, then ignored the second knock at the door to come back and turn the switch off again. Lights on in the bedroom was an open invitation Willow wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to offer. Not at this early stage.

  The hall light was safe though, as was the living room and outside bulb that hung directly above her front door. A split-second rest with her fingers wrapped around the front door handle, then Willow opened it with a cheery smile.

  “Hello, love. Thought you must be stuck out back or something, it took you so long to answer.”

  Willow’s second-best friend, Reg Garnett, walked in through the door, not waiting for an invitation. With a worried glance along the street to reassure herself that her actual invited guest’s arrival wasn’t imminent, Willow closed the door and turned to Reg with a slightly more strained smile.

  “It’s a bit late for you to call, isn’t it?”

  Reg ignored the chastisement hidden in her words and walked through into the lounge, picking up a china figurine of a penguin as he went through.