Chapter One
MAGGIE
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“I’M GOING TO FIND MYSELFa single cowboy to ride until the sun comes up.” My sister scans the lobby of The Fox Lodge as if a single man is going to appear at her beck and call.
“Good luck finding a single cowboy in a family lodge during the holidays.”
“Exactly. Families have single sons or single brothers or maybe a single daddy.” She moans like she’s having an orgasm right here in the lobby. “I would love to bang a single daddy cowboy.”
“Well, you’re dressed for it.”
Sadie’s gaze travels down her plaid button-down shirt tied under her bosoms. The open buttons flash the crests of breasts. Between the high knot and her high-waisted mini skirt is a thin strip of her middle. Her knee-high boots also leave some flesh for the eye, stopping just below her skirt. We’re at a family lodge and she’s dressed for a night of clubbing. Not that she cares. She loves to flaunt her dips and curves.
“I look damn good.” She catches her reflection in a mirror and blows herself a kiss.
“I didn’t say you don’t.”
“Maybe you should wear something that grabs your curves instead of covering them up.” She starts tucking my grey blouse into the waistline of my jeans.
I swat at her hands. “Stop it.”
She doesn’t listen, and finishes tucking in my shirt with a satisfied sigh. “That’s better.”
When she reaches for the top button, I cover it with my hand. “Absolutely not. We are here to help Grams organize the Sugar Cookie Fundraiser. Not walk a runway.”
“No, I’m here to ride a cowboy. You’re here to help Grams. Speaking of which, where is she?” Sadie cranes her neck, searching for our grandmother.
“Maybe she hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Next.”
I smile at the receptionist waiting for us. “Hi, I’m Maggie Hill. We’re here for the Sugar Cookie Fundraiser. Wilma and Faye Quylt made reservations for our suite.”
“Welcome Miss Hill.”
“We also have a meeting with Hannah Fox for a tour of the kitchen and ballroom.” The tour is a formality rather than necessity. The fundraiser’s been hosted here every year for as long as I can remember. I know the kitchen by heart.
“Of course. One second.” The receptionist fetches us three key cards and an information package for the fundraiser. Our meeting with Hannah is an hour.
I step aside for the next person in line. “I’m phoning Grams to see where she is.”
“She doesn’t answer her cell phone. I bet it’s packed in her suitcase. On silence.” My sister’s right.
Grams isn’t a fan of the phone I gave her. She dislikes the tablet even more. But since I live in a different state, I like to FaceTime a few times a week. Sometimes at least once a day.
I dial her anyway. It’s either that or wait in the lobby until she shows up. Although the lobby isn’t a bad place to linger. Twinkly lights set the holiday mood. Fresh boughs of evergreen sprinkled with pinecones, acorns and rustic ornaments are flocked with fake snow. Families bustle about every which direction. They sip cocoa by the stone floor-to-ceiling fireplace or take pictures by the stuffed woodland animals on display. Shopping at the gift shop looks packed full.
Still, no sign of Grams.
Wonderful.
My sister, on the other hand, is obsessed with her phone and social media. “Hey Betty’s followers, it’s the granddaughter coming live to you from The Fox Lodge.” She thrusts the phone in front of both of us. “And look who I found. Betty’s other granddaughter. Say hi to the amazing pastry chef, Maggie Hill.”
I force a smile. “Hey everyone.”
I’m grateful when my sister moves the spotlight from me back to herself. “We are here settling in for the long days of baking ahead of us. Watch for more live updates and we’ll see y’all at the Sugar Cookie Fundraiser. This is Sadie, signing off, and remember, the secret ingredient to baking is always love.”
