“What do we need?” Nate leaned on the counter beside her, the heat of his body warming hers. She scooted the typed recipe card between them.
“Seems pretty straight forward.” She straightened. “I’ll wash my hands and then get the butter and eggs from the refrigerator.”
“Good idea. I’ll get the flour and sugar after washing my hands.” He clapped them together as he followed her over to the sink.
“Sounds good.” Ana washed her hands and dried them on a towel.
“Where are the flour and sugar?” He emphasized each word, indicating he had no idea where to look first.
Ana turned around, searching the kitchen. There were two cupboards on the wall next to the office. “One of those cupboards, I believe,” she said pointing at them.
“Got it.” He went over after washing his hands.
Ana found the eggs and butter in the walk-in and brought them out, setting them on the counter.
Nate had a large plastic container in each hand. They looked heavy, judging by the way his biceps bulged as he carried them, but he didn’t seem to be bothered. “What else?” He set them down, glancing at the recipe.
“We need shortening, which should be in one of those cabinets too, as well as powdered sugar.”
He headed over.
“I’ll get the spices.” When they had everything piled on the counter, she checked the recipe and returned the cinnamon since they would instead add lemon zest.
“You know what? I’m guessing the butter needs to be room temperature. It won’t mix otherwise.” Nate checked the recipe from over her shoulder when she picked up the card.
“Oh great. How long is that going to take?” Ana hadn’t thought about that.
“Let me share a secret.” He unwrapped the butter, putting it in a microwave safe bowl he took from one of the floating shelves.
“You know what you’re doing?” Ana asked. She was mesmerized watching his large hands handle things so expertly.
“Psssh. I do. Just watch.” He went to the microwave with the bowl, put the butter inside and pushed the time of one minute.
“That’ll boil the butter,” she said. “And that isn’t good, that much I know for sure.” She put her hands on her hips.
“You’re right, if the microwave is at one hundred percent power, but if you put it at forty percent…” He let his sentence trail off as he changed the microwave power and pushed start.
That one minute seemed to take forever. When the microwave finally beeped, he opened the door and sure enough, the butter still held its shape. She touched it and it was soft as could be. “How did you do that?”
“Magic.” He handed her the bowl. “All right, Ace. You do your thing and I’ll do mine.”
They worked together side by side for several minutes. Ana creamed together the butter, and shortening, then added the sugars and eggs as the recipe said. When those were mixed well, she added the vanilla and the cinnamon. “Okay, I’m ready for dry ingredients.”
Nate scooped in a cup at a time while Ana mixed with the mixer until the ingredients were just combined before he added more. The dough smelled delicious. When it was ready, Nate ripped a large piece of plastic wrap and Ana put the dough on it. She wrapped the dough inside, forming a ball.
“What should we do for the next thirty minutes?” she asked after washing her hands and drying them.
He raised an eyebrow, studying her form, and Ana could guess what he was thinking. They’d been married for years, after all. “I could use a cup of coffee. How about I set a thirty-minute timer and we get a drink and talk?”
She liked the sound of that. “Good plan.” They put on their coats and went out the front. Ana locked the door before they made their way over to Jack’s Java Hut. It was a tiny store a few doors down and across the street. They served coffee just like the sign said, but also tea and even warm water with lemon, if she asked nicely.
As they crossed the street, the sound of a screeching car caused them to turn. The car was coming straight for them. She would be hit first, but the car was going so fast, it would run into Nate too. She froze. Her mind froze. She couldn’t move. At the moment she thought she would be squashed, but something picked her up and shoved her out of the way. The car flew past without slowing in the slightest.
“Crazy jerk! Slow down!” Nate raised a fist in anger, but the car kept going.
Ana turned to see the back end of the old orange car as it careened around a corner.
“Who was that?” he asked when the car disappeared. “I’m half tempted to call the cops.”
“I have no idea, but Chandi might. I’ll ask her. Did you happen to get the license plate number?”
He shook his head, his jaw clenched in anger. “No. Did you?”
“Part of it. A C and then 79.”
“Impressive. I was too busy being blinded by fury over the fact that someone just about ran us over.”
“Thanks, Nate. If you hadn’t thought quickly…” She shuddered. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He rolled his shoulders back, stepping onto the sidewalk. Two steps, and he was at the entrance to Jack’s Java Hut. He held open the door and Ana was struck with the aromatic scent of coffee and cozy warmth.
“Smells like heaven,” Nate said.
She wrinkled her nose. The smell of coffee didn’t do to her what it did to most people. She thought the aroma was too strong. Ana went to get in line. Jack, the owner, scowled as he rang up a customer. There were several familiar faces sitting in metal and wood chairs at the small metal tables with wooden tabletops. Black and white checkered floors accented the room, giving it masculine flare.
“Hey, Ana, it’s nice to see you.” Edgar Willard waved. “How’s Lox?” Since his retirement from teaching PE at the high school, he worked as a custodian in the city building and a few other businesses around town. He was an elderly gentleman, probably in his late sixties and had a scruffy, white beard.
Ana returned his wave. “Hi, Mr. Willard. She’s doing all right.”
Beside him sat his wife, Ruth. She smiled as well, her eyes filled with sympathy.
At the booth beside the window was Ethan Hollows. He’d had a serious crush on Lox since a few months after his wife died. The man even told Lox he had a tattoo of her name somewhere on his body. Lox hadn’t asked for more information. He was a decade older than Lox’s forty-six years, and she hadn’t been interested. “Is Lox okay?” he asked. Some of his teeth were blackened. Others were missing, making him look much older.
“She’s doing fine, Mr. Hollows.” Ana turned away, willing the woman in front of them to hurry. She didn’t enjoy talking to Mr. Hollows. He gave her the creeps.
“Something’s coming. I can sense it,” the man muttered, scratching his head. “Magic be returning. It’s in the air.”
The man wasn’t talking to her but himself, so Ana didn’t respond.
The other two people in the coffee shop were sitting together. Lacey Andrews and Shane—the man who’d given them a ride to the hospital after their flight from Denver. Ana stared at him, curious about how they knew each other. Was he a sibling? They didn’t look alike, but that didn’t mean anything. Lacey looked up just as Ana glanced her way. The woman gave her an icy glare. If anyone had a motive to hurt Lox, it was Lacey. The woman had tried to open her own bakery a couple of years ago. It’d failed miserably for two reasons. The first was that Goldie’s Bakery—her sister’s bakery—had been open more than a decade and had a steady stream of dedicated patrons. She had history with the people in this town. They loved her and she loved them. The second reason was simply that Lacey’s baked goods just weren’t as good. They were fine, but they weren’t special the way Lox’s were. Ana didn’t know why. Their mom liked to say it was because Lox was passionate about her work and she put a little of that passion into each and every item she made. Ana had more of a scientific way of thinking and guessed there was more to it, but it was also possible their mom was right.
Lacey’s bakery had closed within six months of opening. Recently she opened a cupcake truck and had been making the rounds to all of the ski lodges and hotels along the outskirts of town. From what Lox said, Lacey had been raking in the big bucks taking the cupcakes to the tourists instead of making them come to her.
The news had irritated Ana, but if this morning was any indication, people still preferred quality over convenience.
Lacey made her way over to Ana, her expression somewhat less than friendly.
Chapter Eight
Ana couldn’t help but study the woman. She wore a green plaid shirt tucked into too tight black pants and over the knee black boots. Her long red hair swished from side to side as she moved. “This one’s a little crazy,” Ana fake-whispered to Nate.
“I remember,” Nate mouthed back, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Ana. It’s good of you to grace us with your presence. How’s ole Goldilox? She feeling any better?” Lacey’s expression was smug, and not the least bit sincere.
“Yes, she’s doing well. Thanks for asking.” Ana gritted her teeth. Nate seemed to grow six inches beside her. “Where were you last night? You didn’t happen to see what happened to my sister?”
“Sadly, no. I was out in my cupcake truck, feeding the tourists. Busy. Busy. Busy.” She gave Ana a toothy smile. “You know how it is.” Lacey’s eyes narrowed as she faced Nate. “My, my. It’s good to see you again.” She sidled up to him a little too closely for Ana’s liking. “You aren’t married anymore, right? Maybe we could hang out sometime?”
Nate crossed his arms. “Lacey, that’ll never, ever happen,” he growled softly.
“Still caught in Ana’s snare then?” Her eyes turned cold as she scooted back, making it easier for her to see the two of them. “What a waste of a good man.” She rubbed her lips together. “Well, I’d better get back to my date. He’s new in town. Toodles.” She flipped her hair and sashayed away.
“I don’t trust that woman,” Nate whispered.
“Neither do I.” It was Ana’s turn to order. When Jack saw her, his sour face lit up with happiness. “Ana. It’s so good to see you,” he gushed in French, coming around the counter to hug her. “How can you stay away from Fable Town for so long? C’est plein de vie, it’s full of life.” She guessed he’d spoken French and then translated what he said into English for her benefit and she appreciated that.
Ana hugged him back. He moved to Montana from France five years ago. His name was actually spelled Jacque, but he changed it to Jack on his sign to sound more American. “I don’t want to seem stuck up,” he said, the first time she met him. He was a short man, probably no more than five feet five inches and slightly potbellied. He had black hair he slicked back and a matching mustache. Ana pushed away and studied him. They chatted here and there over the years but had never been great friends. Jack preferred a night life Ana had little time for, including drinking and poker. He liked to visit the reservation and hit the casinos as well. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“I’m guessing you came to town to support your sister, non?” He went back around the counter and stood in front of the register.
“That’s right.” She shook her head. “Did you see anything? It seems bonkers that Lox was outside the front of her store, on the street, and no one saw anything.”
“I wish I had, but I finished up early and went home. Yesterday was only comme ci comme ca, just so-so. Most of us were able to leave early.” He glanced down at his hands, sadly. “Except our little Goldie. She’s always busy, that one, with her delicious pastries and delectable desserts.” He clucked his tongue, meeting Ana’s eyes once again. “She keeps us all in business.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, Jack.”
“Merci.” He seemed to notice Nate for the first time. “Mon dieu. Who is this tall drink of water?” He held out his hand. “I’m Jacque,” he said thickening his french accent, “but you can call me Jack.”
“Good to meet you, Jack. Je’mapelle Nate Decker.” He took Nate’s hand and shook it like it was a football.
Jack’s expression turned distressed and he pulled his hand from Nate’s. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, too. Are you and the lovely Ana an item? Can I name one of my drinks the Natzel?”
“That’s sweet, Jack, but that won’t be necessary. Can I just get a cup of hot water with a slice of lemon?” Ana held onto her purse like it was a toboggan wheeling down a steep, snowy mountain.
“And I’d love a coffee. Black.” Nate patted the countertop kindly.
“Of course.” Jack’s eyes parried between the two of them. “I guess there’s no way to make a Natzel drink with water and coffee anyway. That’s just called, well, weak coffee.” He smiled, but Ana caught his eye roll before he went over to the coffee machine and poured a cup then filled another cup with hot water and placed a slice of lemon in it. He returned and handed the cups to them.
“Thanks, Jack. We really appreciate it.” She moved her hand to Nate’s arm, touching it softly.
“Yes, thank you. This is quite a place you have here. I love the atmosphere. Very… earthy.”
“Yes, that’s what I was going for.” Some of Jack’s spunk returned to his face.
“How much do I owe you?” Ana opened her purse.
“Nonsense. It’s on the house.” Jack shook his pointer finger at them. “It’s the least I can do for you.”
“Great. That’s awesome, man,” Nate added.
Jack grinned from ear to ear. “Merci, Nate.”
Nate and Ana found a seat at a booth next to the window where the sun shone through, warming her. Ana lifted her chin and closed her eyes, allowing the light to hit her face.
“What are you doing?” he asked, mischief in his voice.
“Soaking up the vitamin D.” She smiled without showing teeth and without opening her eyes.
“Don’t you worry about wrinkles?”
She opened her eyes then. “Got a problem with wrinkles, Nate Decker?” She pinned him against the seat with her deliberate stare.
“Not even a little bit.” He took a sip of coffee. “Not bad,” he said, indicating his cup.
Mr. Hollows was suddenly standing beside their table. “I wanted to ask Lox out. You know she’s a fine woman.” He looked frazzled. The gray plaid shirt he wore was buttoned in a wonky fashion so that one side was shorter than the other and there was a pucker where he’d missed a button hole. His graying hair looked like he’d stuck a finger in an electric socket before going out. His face hadn’t been shaved in a few days and his eyes were bloodshot.
“She is a fine woman,” Ana repeated, glancing down at his shoes. He was wearing flip flops. In February. In Montana. She half expected to see his toes blackened from frost bite. “Are you okay? Is there anything you need?” Her doctorly sensibilities kicked into high gear. He seemed dehydrated and might have kidney disease, judging by the slight yellow in his eyes. “Seeing a doctor regularly?”
“Sure. Of course.” He waved away her questions. “I’m fine.” He scratched his head. “Just hoping to ask out Lox soon. I want to take her to dinner. Before all the magic and mayhem starts.”
Ana glanced at Nate who shrugged. She turned her attention back to the man. “That’s very thoughtful, Mr. Hollows, but it might be a while. She’s been hurt. Someone knocked her unconscious.”
His eyes got big and he began to pace. There was definitely something going on with Mr. Hollows. “Can we walk you home?”
“No. No. No. That won’t be necessary.” He went back to his seat.
Nate sent her an curious look. “That was strange. Did you see his shoes? Should I should call the sheriff?” He took another sip of coffee and glanced around the room. “It doesn’t seem like anyone else cares about his shenanigans though. I wonder why that is.”
She had the answers and they were sad. “Mr. Hollows has been a little… different since his wife of twenty years died suddenly a few years back,” Ana said.
Ana felt a lump form in her throat. She’d hurt him. They lost their son and instead of turning to each other, she divorced him. “I’m sorry, Nate,” she blurted softly. She reached out and touched his hand.
He squeezed it. “I’m sorry, too.” He caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it. What happened between us wasn’t your fault. We lost a child. It was horrible and I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve—” The timer on his phone went off.
Ana pulled her hand away and stood. This wasn’t the time to discuss their situation anyway. Whatever she felt or he felt, she needed to put that on the backburner and focus on helping Lox.
“Ace,” Nate said.
“It’s—” She couldn’t finish. Didn’t know what to say. She cleared her throat. “Let’s go make some cookies.”
Chapter Nine
Back at the bakery, and after washing her hands, Ana pulled the dough from the walk-in refrigerator. Nate washed his hands too, then located the rolling pin. He dusted the counter surface and rolling pin with flour. While he worked, he thought about Ana and about how wonderfully weird it was spending time with her again. After two years apart and a harsh divorce, there should’ve been awkwardness, but there wasn’t. Not really. Not when they forgot about the fact that they were divorced, and their beautiful son was gone. Seeing Ana again, and spending time with her made Gus feel more alive. Nate believed in life after death. He believed in God. With that faith and belief came a feeling that Gus was never far from him. With Ana around, he felt closer than ever. Please let us love each other again.
“Here you go.” Ana placed the wrapped dough on the counter. Something in her voice made him turn. There was a piece of paper in her hands. “What is that?” Dread clenched at his insides. She was afraid and he didn’t like that one bit. He would do anything to protect her.
Iced Raspberry Cookies and a Curse Page 5
