The Reindeer Falls Collection: Volume One

by Jana Aston

  While the gingerbread is baking I’ll make a stabilized vanilla whipped cream from scratch, with a sprinkle of cinnamon added until the whipped cream is delicately freckled with just the hint of color. When I plate the dessert for presentation I'll add a perfect swirl of whipped cream to each serving using a pastry bag and, if time allows, each will also feature a miniature gingerbread man resting against the whipped cream swirl.

  This is almost too easy.

  I don't even look up until I've got my crusts in the oven. I decided on using miniature individual springform pans instead of one large one because it'll cut down on my baking time and I'll be cutting it close on time as it is. I take a few peeks around the room as I add the filling ingredients to the mixer one by one. Cream cheese, sugar, flour, blend. Sour cream, molasses, vanilla extract, blend. Wait, I'm missing the vanilla. How did I not grab that yet? I dash over to the pantry and grab a bottle and nearly collide with Keller when I whirl back around. It seems he was reaching for the bottle as well because his arm is still outstretched as I teeter on my toes to avoid slamming into him.

  Being this close to him though, it still feels like the wind was just knocked out of me.

  "Fancy running into you here," he quips. I stare at his lips when he speaks, and is it just my imagination or does he lean in a little bit closer as he says it? Do I?

  "Did you want the vanilla or something?" I finally manage to say when my racing heart has calmed enough for me to speak.

  "There's another bottle."

  There's a ghost of a smile on his face when he says it and his voice is smooth and deep, like salted caramel, and I bet he tastes even better and oh, my word, his lips are awfully close. If I just pressed up onto my toes a little bit—

  The slamming of an oven door snaps me out of my trance and reminds me that I'm on set. With cameras rolling. And I very nearly just kissed Keller James. I think another ten seconds under his spell and I might have actually gone for it.

  Which is nuts. I've never initiated a first kiss in my life. Much less a first kiss with someone I'm not on a date with. Much, much less with someone I'm competing against on a reality cooking show, with cameras rolling.

  Oh, sweet heavenly fruitcake, I've lost my mind.

  I'd probably be escorted off set immediately. As my parents watched. And the town mayor. And the sheriff. And my sisters. It'd probably be the first time in the history of the Food Network that a contestant got kicked off for kissing someone. And who could blame them? I didn't sign up for The Bachelor, for heaven's sake.

  I have to take a deep breath and remind myself it didn't actually happen. We didn't kiss. There was no kissing. I'm positive I imagined the entire thing. Definitely.

  Adding the vanilla to the mixer, I get my mind back in the game where it belongs.

  Two hours later I've passed the second round. The celebrity chef with the RV was the second to go. He made a gingerbread cheesecake ice cream—total copout—and his ginger was chopped.

  Wait, that doesn't sound right at all. But never mind, the point is I've survived day one without assaulting Keller James with my lips. Err, no. I mean I survived day one without being cut from the competition.

  Sigh.

  Jingle my bell, he's trouble.

  Chapter 4

  We're off from filming the following day, which is a relief because I'm a bit overwhelmed and besides, I have plenty to do today. I also need to avoid Keller, so while I'd normally use the Busy Bee Inn kitchen, today I bake batches of blueberry muffins, mini-almond tarts and sugar cookies at home. I'll just drop these off at the Inn via the back door and be on my way.

  Do I wash my hair just in case I bump into Keller? Nope. No, I do not. Because I'm going to be in and out of the Busy Bee Inn quicker than Santa himself.

  Besides, it's snowing and I'm wearing a hat. There will be no accidentally bumping into Keller James with ensuing flirting that may or may not be happening only in my head.

  There. Will. Not.

  Ten minutes later I'm stomping the snow off my boots on the back porch of the Busy Bee Inn before I slip inside to drop the basket of baked goods. It's still early. Old Pete is likely making breakfast for the Inn guests.

  Except Pete is nowhere to be found when I enter the kitchen. Keller is there, at my stove. He's in a worn pair of jeans and a navy Henley, a dishtowel casually flipped over his shoulder as he flips a pancake on the stove with equal casualness.

  As if he belongs here.

  In my kitchen.

  I mean, fine, it's the Inn's kitchen, but it's more my kitchen than his kitchen and I didn't wash my hair and why is he in here? Making breakfast?

  "What are you doing in here?" I ask in favor of hello as I plunk my basket of baked goods on the countertop.

  "Making breakfast."

  "I can see that. But you're a guest of the Inn and guests of the Inn do not cook their own breakfasts. This isn't an Airbnb. Unless you've bought the Inn and this is now your actual kitchen."

  Keller strokes his jaw as if in deep thought. "Buy the Inn? Now that's a great idea. Would I get to see your smiling face every day if I bought the place?"

  "Where is Pete?" I ask, ignoring him and his little quip. "Does he know you're back here?" Why is this guy everywhere I turn lately?

  "He wanted me to make my winning pancakes from yesterday." Keller winks at me when he says it. Insufferable flirt. "So I told him to take the morning off and I'd take care of breakfast."

  "They weren't winning pancakes." I bristle. "They were just pancakes that didn't get you sent home during round one."

  "Ginger, you're so spicy this morning. I'm going to call you Ginger Spice."

  "Ha ha, very funny. Did Noel tell you?" She's such a menace. Like her name is any less ridiculous than mine or Holly’s. Being the youngest sister is not without its perils, I'm telling ya.

  "Tell me what?" He looks up, genuinely confused. "Who's Noel?"

  Um, crud. Noel didn't tell him, he was just making a joke and I stumbled right into it. "Nothing," I say hurriedly because I'm terrible at changing the subject smoothly. I'm even worse at changing the subject than I am at lying.

  He stares at me for a long beat, spatula in midair and a curious look on his face.

  "Wait." A slow smile spreads. "Is Spice your actual middle name?"

  I blush a thousand shades of Santa’s suit while shaking my head. "No," I deny, frantically unpacking my basket. "No of course it isn't."

  "Yes, it is, and it's delightful. You are delightful, Ginger Spice."

  "Whatever, Fergus," I blurt because that's his middle name. Which I only know from looking him up online, and yup, I just stumbled into that too, didn't I? Now he's going to know I've looked him up like a schoolgirl with a crush.

  "You know my middle name?" He laughs when he says it as if this pleases him to no end. "So you've looked me up then? Find anything interesting?"

  "No. You're very dull."

  "You were probably desperate to know if I'm available." He's set the spatula down and is moving closer, as if we're going to have a conversation about this. We're not. Because I was actually desperate to know about that very thing when I looked him up and I'm sure I'm now the actual color of Rudolph’s nose.

  "I was not," I stammer out the blatant lie while doing my best to bury my head into my basket. If it was possible, I'd crawl into the basket, like the adorable kitten I am. Also, I couldn't actually find anything about his love life online, minus a photo of him on a red carpet event posing with Daniella Harvey. She's got a show on the Food Network too, but the photo was from a couple of years ago so I'm not so sure they're together. There's actually a real lack of online gossip available about celebrity chefs, as it turns out.

  “I am. Available.”

  “Good for you.” I manage not to stammer this time.

  "I asked around about you."

  "You what?" I whip my head up in alarm. "Who? Who would you even ask? You don't even know anyone in Reindeer Falls." Wait, is he joking? He must
be joking. I'm such an easy target, I always fall for it when I'm being teased.

  "I know people."

  "Who? Name one person."

  "Pete."

  "Pete is seventy-four years old. You expect me to believe you asked him if I was single and ready to mingle?"

  Oh, for elf's sake. Did I really just say “single and ready to mingle?”

  "Ginger." Keller says my name softly and it sounds flirty. I'm pretty sure it's flirty, but I've been wrong before. Like a few times even. Once in college I thought a classmate was into me and then he asked me for suggestions on what to buy his girlfriend for Christmas. So yeah, I might suck at reading signals.

  Beside me Keller braces one arm on the butcher block counter and leans in closer. Close enough that I can feel the heat of his body and his lips are mere inches from mine. "I'm fairly certain that the only thing I'd enjoy more than bantering with you is kissing you."

  Okay.

  So that was pretty clear, right?

  I'm not alone in thinking that was clear? Keller James of Brunch, Biscuits & Tea is interested in kissing me.

  "For real?" I ask, because I've got moves for days.

  "No?" He pauses, his lips a breath from mine. So close it's nearer a technicality that they're not actually touching.

  "Where are my pancakes?" Old Pete ambles into the kitchen and I nearly jump out of my skin as if it's junior year of high school and I've just been caught kissing Tommy Cricklets in his parents basement when I was supposed to be tutoring him in math. To be fair, he passed math and got into college so it's not like they didn't get their money's worth.

  Wait. That doesn't sound right.

  Anyway, I look like a reindeer caught in the headlights while Keller merely straightens and charms Old Pete with a tall stack of candied ginger pumpkin pancakes. He adds a slab of melting butter to the top, sprinkles it with pecan halves and drizzles warmed maple syrup over the stack as if he's preparing the plate to be filmed for television.

  Then he insists on carrying the plate out to the dining room, loading two more on his arm as if he's comfortable with waiting tables. When he returns to the kitchen I'm standing in the exact spot he left me in.

  "Are you going to take your coat off, Ginger?"

  Right. I'm still in my coat. I'm also still wearing my stupid hat. It's knit and has a giant furry pompom on the top.

  "No. I'm not staying." I wonder if the kiss is off the table now? Has the moment passed? Has he forgotten? Should I remind him? Or should I just walk over and climb him like a kitten climbs a Christmas tree?

  "Okay, let me just clean up here and we'll go."

  "What do you mean we'll go? Where are we going?" And why do I always feel like I'm two steps behind this guy? Did I miss part of the conversation while I was daydreaming?

  "Aren't you going to show me the hiking trails?" His face is the picture of innocence.

  "I can't. I have things to do today."

  "Okay. I'll come with."

  "You can't just invite yourself along. What if the thing I have to do today is private? Like an appointment at the lady doctor. Did you think about that?"

  "I hadn't, actually. But such a thing can't take more than an hour, surely. I could wait in the waiting room or in the car. Then we'd have the rest of the day for lunch or a hike or maybe a snowball fight in the middle of your charming town square."

  He smiles winningly.

  I sigh.

  He's so tempting. And a distraction. My focus should be on winning the competition and securing the lease space for Ginger's Bake Shop. Not on making out with Keller James. A guy who will be gone just as soon as the Great Gingerbread Bake-Off competition ends.

  But he's literally incapable of being rejected, it would seem. Which is fine. If he wants to hang out with me today, game on. He's got no idea what he's in for.

  "Sure," I tell him with a big smile. "You can drive."

  Chapter 5

  "This is quite the vehicle, Gingersnap."

  I fight a smile at his calling me Gingersnap, loving it more than I want to admit. Keller James just gave me a nickname and it's about a million times better than the time Santa brought me a bike.

  "Thank you, I'm real proud of her." I wave my arms wide and give him a moment to take in the beauty that is my pink minivan. Yup. A bright pink minivan. Then something occurs to me. "You can drive in America, right? You know we drive on the right side of the street here."

  "We drive on the right side of the street in Britain too, love. We just use the right side to drive in the opposite direction."

  Hmm. That's a fair point.

  "I've lived in America for nearly half a decade, Ginger. You're safe in my hands, I assure you."

  Safe in his hands. I'd like to be safe in his hands. No, stop. Think pure thoughts. Think about the spirit of the season and how lovely it would be to rub up against Keller in front of a fireplace when he’s naked and I’m naked and yeah, okay, I'm not doing a great job thinking virtuous thoughts.

  But he did almost kiss me, right?

  Do you ever experience something that you know happened, but then you second-guess yourself about it happening until you're sure you're crazy? I can't be the only one. Also, did I tell him not to kiss me? Is that how that ended? I should ask him, like a grown-up. Except I'm not quite sure how to segue back into that. And it seems like a terribly awkward thing to bring up.

  "You want to tell me how you obtained such a treasure? Surely this color isn't mass-produced."

  "Oh, no. It's definitely not. This is a custom paint job." I nod toward the minivan with delight because its ridiculousness has always pleased me. "It was my mom's old car. She didn't want to drive a minivan once we were all grown up, so when it came time for her to get a new car she made me a real good deal on this one. I had the back seats removed and a van rack installed for deliveries and then I got this sweet, sweet paint job to freshen her up."

  "Ginger’s Mobile Bake Shop" Keller reads the logo on the passenger door as he opens it for me. It's printed on the door in white and it matches my business cards and someday, it'll match the sign at my bakery.

  "I use it for deliveries," I tell him once he's slid in behind the wheel. "Until I have a shop of my own, this is the only way for me to reach customers. I'm trying to build a clientele that will support me once I open a retail location. And once I'm open, I'll keep the van for catering and wedding cake deliveries."

  "Smart."

  "Thanks." I bask in his praise, but I also wonder if he doesn't find all of this a bit silly. Reindeer Falls. My pink van. My dreams of opening a small-town bakery. Me. He's got a freaking show on the Food Network and a bakery by the same name inside of a Vegas casino. They probably move more product there in a single day than I will in an entire month in Reindeer Falls.

  But whatever. Comparison is the thief of joy, and this is my dream. Just because my dreams are smaller in nature doesn't make them any less important or valid.

  "I don't do a lot of business this way, but it's a start."

  "It's a great start. So where's our first stop?" Keller turns the ignition and puts my old pink minivan into reverse.

  "Take a left at the end of the drive," I tell him. "Our first stop is the retirement home. They have a standing order whenever I can deliver to them. Then we have an order of cookies to drop at the auto shop and finally the Reindeer Falls animal shelter."

  "The animal shelter?"

  "Homemade dog biscuits." I shrug. "They're technically not a paying client, but I have a soft spot for dogs and the shelter dogs deserve high-quality treats as much as anyone. Besides, they send every adopted dog home with a bag of my treats and I get a lot of new business that way."

  "Clever and compassionate, Ginger. You're proving to be a delightful and unexpected addition to my visit to Reindeer Falls."

  His visit. Because that's all it is, I have to remind myself of this. He'll be gone once The Great Gingerbread Bake-Off is complete.

  I'll probably never see h
im again.

  I’d hate it if I never saw him again.

  "Are you having fun?"

  I smile while Keller spins a few inches in either direction in the chair beside mine. He seems more comfortable than he should. Honestly, I didn't expect him to make it this far. I really thought I'd lose him a couple of stops into today's deliveries, but he's stuck with me all day. Stuck with me, and charmed each and every one of my customers, while sliding seamlessly into my day as if running errands together is something we have always done.

  The retirement home stop is my longest. The residents always sway me into a chat and a cup of coffee while I'm there. Often they want to share an old favorite recipe of their own, asking me to make it and bring it to them at my next visit. I always do. Sometimes they just want to offer tips about my baking or tell me they'd prefer walnuts over pecans in my banana nut bread or ask what the going price for a pint of blueberries is. They're a bit of a tough crowd, until you get to know them. Mostly, they just want to talk and be heard and have all their years of experience cooking for their own families to mean something. Besides, they do give some really great tips.

  Keller is a big hit with the residents. Apparently Brunch, Biscuits & Tea is a staple program at the Reindeer Falls Retirement Villas and they're all big fans. He takes their tips about his show in stride and has a long discussion about the merits of clotted cream with a resident who spent some years living in London during their youth.

  Over at the auto shop Keller is delighted to find it's the very same auto shop that did the custom paint job on my van and that I arranged a trade of services in lieu of payment. I'll have the paint job and retrofit paid off in just eight more cookie deliveries, a fact that seems to delight Keller to no end, a wide grin spreading across his face as his brown eyes light up.

  And then finally, at the shelter he was nearly seduced by a dog. A shaggy mutt of some kind who rolled over onto her back to beg for belly scratches, mournful eyes enticing Keller's attention.

  It worked. I very nearly did the same right there at the shelter but I caught myself in time.