Chapter Nine
Belle finished up thestrawberry shortcake shortly before ten on Monday morning.When she arrived at the store, she was surprised how many men were there, and she said a silent prayer she’d made enough.
The men all gathered around her.
“Did you bring cookies?”one man asked.
“What about bread?”
“I brought bread and strawberry shortcake.I’ll make snickerdoodles tomorrow along with the usual bread.”
“You never bake enough,” one man complained.
Belle set the food she’d prepared on the counter for Mrs.Johnson to divvy up before turning back to the men and putting her hands on her hips.“I’m not a baker.I just happen to enjoy baking.I’m not here to feed any of you.I’m here to take care of my husband and his home.If there’s any more complaining, I won’t sell baked goods here any longer.”
The man who had complained looked contrite.“Sorry, ma’am.”
To Belle’s surprise, Everett walked into the store just then.He frowned.“Why are none of you working?”he asked, looking around at the men.
“Your wife said she’d be here with fresh-baked treats today.We came to buy them,” answered a man who was leaning against the wall.
Everett shook his head.“Get back to work!”he yelled.
After the men had scattered, he turned his attention back to Belle.“No more of this.You can bake and bring stuff to the store, but I don’t want you giving the men a particular time again.There is no one working on the order we have due Friday!”
“But...”
“I’m not going to listen to any more arguments.This is ridiculous!”He turned and left the store, and Belle stared after him, realizing they’d just had their first disagreement, and she hadn’t been able to say a word.
Katie was busy portioning off the pieces of cake.The men had put their names on their plates, so it was easy to tell whose was whose.“Don’t worry about him,” Katie said.“He gets grumpy when he’s on a deadline.”
“Always?”Belle asked, surprised.She’d seen no sign of a temper in her husband at all.
“Only time he hasn’t is since you’ve been here.I’m surprised he’s held out this long.”
“I’ll have to make sure and butter him up with baked goods when he has a deadline coming on.”
“That would be really smart of you,” Katie said.
“I’m going home to process the ducks we shot yesterday then.Sorry to bring drama to your store.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about me.I’ve been expecting something like this.The men don’t get sweets often enough.”
Belle nodded, thinking about her friend’s words.“Oh, I’ve been meaning to order a sewing machine.Could you get one in?”
“I sure could!I want one myself, but I haven’t been able to talk Bernard into one.He’s a crotchety old thing when it comes to money.”
Belle giggled.“Tell him that you’re making extra money with all the baking I’m doing, and everything will balance out.”
“That’s a great idea!I’ll do that!”
“And if he still says no, come to my place and use mine.”
“I wouldn’t want to do that.No, I’ll talk Bernard into one of my own.”
As Belle walked home, her mind was still on what Everett had said to her.She was annoyed that he hadn’t waited until they were in private to scold her, and she planned to tell him just that when he arrived home that evening.
Her entire afternoon was consumed with processing the birds, and when she’d finally put the last jar into the cellar, it was time to cook supper.She wondered if fried mallard would taste like fried chicken.They seemed to have more dark meat than white meat, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t taste good.
