“C’mon,” Ella said, latching onto my sleeve. “Let’s go see what’s up. Maybe we should say hi.”
Before I could tell her I didn’t want to, she had me outside on the sidewalk, nodding and smiling at the curious onlookers. Some were other store owners along Main Street, some were citizens going about their day, and a few were tourists who always seemed to flock to the only all-year Christmas town within the surrounding five states.
“Is that him? The new guy?” Ella hissed, her eyes wide. “He’sgorgeous. Please tell me he’s not just one of the movers.”
I turned to see where she was staring, and once again, my breath seemed to get caught in my throat. Ella was right. The manwasgorgeous. Striking, really. Muscular, with long legs and big hands, broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, and did I mention legs that went on forever? This guy looked like he could lift a refrigerator all by himself, with one hand, too. Maybe he’d just seemed cranky because he was busy making sure all the items in the truck got into the new shop.
Maybe.
I smiled as a small, black terrier suddenly ran up to him, then started dancing around the man’s feet and demanding his attention.
“Is that a Scotty dog?” Ella mused. “I haven’t seen one of those in years.” She lifted her hand in greeting when the man turned to look at all the gawkers. When he gave a small wave back at her, I scowled.
“Oh, soyouhe waves at,” I muttered.
Ella giggled. “Oh, please. I’m so married it’s ridiculous, but I can look, can’t I?”
I don’t know why I was so worked up over the fact he only nodded at me in the alley, but waved to Ella. It was the silliest thing to care about.
“C’mon,” I said. “Let’s go back inside. We have baking we need to do. Our next batch of Valentine’s Day cookies won’t make themselves, you know.”
I snuck a last peek at the man across the street, then turned and went back inside my bakery.
We picked up more customers toward the afternoon, and by the time we were ready to close the bakery my feet were tired and my back was hurting. Still, it was a pain I enjoyed and relished. I loved knowing all my hard work made the citizens and tourists happy and eager to come back for more. I hoped my grandmother and great-grandmother would have been proud of what I’d done with the bakery. I had put both of their pictures up on the wall, honoring their memory, and sometimes it felt like they were smiling at me.
“That’s it for me,” Ella said, hanging up her apron as evening settled over the streets outside, the twinkling fairy lights glowing in the February twilight. “Unless you need me to stay longer, I’m going to head home.”
“Go on,” I said. “I’m just going to stay for a little while longer and finish up a couple of things here.”
“Don’t stay too long, Ivy.” Ella squeezed my shoulders in a sideways hug. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “Besides, I’m having family dinner at my dad’s tonight, so I have to get going in about an hour.” I loved family dinner night usually, but tonight’s was going to be uncomfortable for the first time in a long time. I’d already decided to ask Dad about the new candy shop and what he knew about it, no matter how hard that was going to be.
“What’s your stepmom making tonight?” Ella didn’t seem to notice that my mind was whirling into the future in anticipation of confronting my dad, and I was grateful for the distraction, to be honest.
“No idea,” I said, “but I’m sure it’ll be delicious. Fran’s a great cook.” If I could just focus on that instead of the awkward anxiety in my stomach, I’d feel much better about things.
Once Ella was gone, I thumbed through the worn pages of my great-grandma’s recipe book, looking for just the right cookie. I’d been considering what to make ever since the candy store sign went up this morning. While talking to Dad was a necessity, so was making sure my new business neighbor felt welcomed. No matter what my private reaction had been, I needed to do what was right and expected. My plan to make a welcome-to-the-street gift basket filled with cookies and baked goods for Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Gorgeous felt like a step in the right direction. Moving days were always rough, and I wanted to get us off on a good start. Part of that was letting him know that just because we both dealt in sugary goodness, it didn’t mean we had to be competitors.
I kept telling that to myself, and I almost believed it.
After baking some more, I finally managed to shed the discomfort I’d been feeling about Dad not telling me about the candy store. He obviously had his reasons.
I’d convinced myself there was no reason to be upset with Dad when, an hour later, I lifted the oval basket filled with three different types of cookies, two oversized cupcakes, a warm loaf of banana bread, and some fresh scones into my hands.
The new candy store guy and I were going to complement one another, not compete. Having a famous candy maker across the street would only benefit my bakery. It was all going to work out.
Keeping those three thoughts running through my head like an optimistic mantra, I fixed a warm Bell family smile on my face and turned the CLOSED sign over on the front door. Clutching the heavy basket, I strolled across the street to the Sweet Shoppe.
The winter air made me wish I’d put on my coat to do the delivery as a sprinkle of snow began to fall in gentle flakes. Jingle Junction was known for celebrating all holidays, not just Christmas, so I wasn’t surprised when my sister, Joy, had made sure there were red hearts attached on each of the antique-style lampposts lining the main streets of the downtown. It was a simple reminder to everyone: every holiday was special in Jingle Junction. Whether someone was looking for a romantic getaway package being advertised for my sister Eve’s bed-and-breakfast, or a Valentine’s Day dance at the local Grange Hall, there were plenty of special events going on for the upcoming holiday.
I was almost across the street when I heard a familiar sound. The pitter-pat of hooves on the pavement had me laughing, and before I even turned around to see what was coming my way, I already knew what it was. Rudy the Reindeer, a constant fixture in the area, was coming toward me. He was loping down the center of the street, seemingly without a care in the world. I stepped up onto the sidewalk and waited for him to pass.
It’s not every town that has its own roaming reindeer, but Jingle Junction had taken Rudy to heart. He was almost atown mascot at this point. He belonged to Max, my stepsister’s boyfriend, and he was known as one of the greatest escape artists of any animal sanctuary on the planet. Many of the townspeople saved him carrots for his occasional visits, and there had even been signs put up to alert people to drive slowly due to an unexpected reindeer crossing.
“I don’t have anything for you right now, buddy,” I said, scratching his cheek as he stopped next to me, perfectly comfortable with my presence. “Come back tomorrow, and I’ll give you a bit of dried fruit.”
As though he understood me, Rudy gave his head a quick shake in dismissal. Snorting once, he then ambled down the street while I quickly texted Max to let him know Rudy’s whereabouts.
