Page 75 of Cinnamon Baker Bear

But this morning he missed having Mara working by his side.

I just miss her, his bear said. I don’t care if she is baking with us, or simply drinking coffee and eating a cinnamon bear.

We’ll be back to her soon enough, Gabe assured him.

Gabe shaped the first loaves. By the time the bread was proofing and the first pastries were ready for the oven, he had started putting breakfast aside for Mara. He chose two of the best cinnamon bears from the batch, one for each of them, added two savory pastries, and cut up some fruit and added some cheese.

He closed the container and set it beside the thermos he intended to fill before he left.

The bell over the door jingled not long afterward, and Wes came in first with Nate behind him, both stamping the cold from their boots.

“Coffee ready?” Wes asked as he headed toward the counter.

“It is if you pour it yourself.” Gabe kept working the dough beneath his hands.

“Good. I was worried finding your mate might have changed you.” Wes reached for a mug.

“Into someone who waits on you?”

“I was thinking into someone who smiles before sunrise.”

“I’m always cheerful in the mornings,” Gabe protested.

Nate took his usual seat and studied him for a moment. “Cheerful, yes. But this is different.”

Gabe went back to the dough. That was the problem with people who had known him most of his life. Eventually they learned all his faces.

Isaac arrived a few minutes later, followed by Evan and Joel, until the familiar early-morning gathering had filled their usual table. Wes poured coffee for everyone, Isaac helped himself to a pastry, while Joel began telling Nate about something that still needed sorting for the festival.

It was ordinary. Comfortingly so. Gabe moved between the ovens and the worktable while their conversation drifted around him, answering when someone spoke to him and listening to the familiar rise and fall of voices he had heard in this bakery on hundreds of mornings.

Then Wes came around the counter for more coffee and stopped beside the breakfast box. “Is this for Nell and Toby?”

“No, I plan on taking Mara breakfast once I’ve finished here,” Gabe said.

“Breakfast?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, although it’ll be nearer lunch by the time Matilda gets in.” He glanced at the clock, which was moving far too slowly.