Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
That was a problem for another day. Today was for Nicky. The scent of vanilla and sugar hit me as I pushed open the door to Sweetheart Bakery, decorated in orange and black streamers hung with black bats. A stuffed witch who looked a lot like Daisy’s Grams stirred a cauldron on the table in the corner.
Daisy wasn’t in the front of the bakery like I’d expected she would be when I walked through the door. Instead, her grandmother stood behind the register, her long silver braid pulled in front of her shoulder and a welcoming smile on her face.
She sent me a friendly wink. “Finn Sawyer, you’re the last person I’d expect to see in here. Daisy tells me everything that comes out of your kitchen is just magnificent. And she says you give her a run for the money when it comes to baking.”
The compliment settled in my gut like a slug of hot chocolate, drawing a smile to my face. “I don’t know that I’d go that far, Mrs. Hutchins. I’m not bad when it comes to baking—I have to be good to hit my sweet tooth—but you and Daisy have something special.”
“Well, that’s certainly true. Still doesn’t answer my question. What brings you in today? Did Savannah send you for some of our ginger molasses cookies? They’re her favorite.”
“Good to know,” I murmured as I filed that tidbit away for later. “I need an edge when I get on her nerves. Why don’t you pack me some of those cookies?”
She chuckled and started gathering them into a small white bag.
“But I’m really here for Nicky,” I said. “He has that cold that’s been going around, and he has to skip trick-or-treat.”
“Oh, that poor boy!” she said. “What a time to be sick.”
“He’s pretty miserable,” I agreed. “I’m doing an at-home trick-or-treat and scavenger hunt. It’s not the same as going out with the bigger kids, but at least he gets to put on his costume and get some candy. I have the stuff to make his favorite marshmallow squares and brownie bites, but the store was out of any decent candy. Royal said Daisy had been working on some chocolates. Can you help me out?”
Mrs. Hutchins beamed with pride. “You came to the right place. Daisy got it in her head she wanted to add a confectionery section, and she’s been making truffles and some other goodies.” Crossing to the other side of the counter, she stopped behind a case of handmade truffles, chocolate-covered pretzels, and peanut butter cups.
“This looks amazing,” I said, throwing out my backup idea to hit the drugstore for candy. Royal was right; Sweetheart Bakery had exactly what I needed. If I’d had time, I could have made some of this myself, but I had a scavenger hunt to arrange, not to mention lunch and dinner to get together. This was perfect.
“Pick me out whatever you think Nicky would like.”
A few minutes later, she handed me a box stuffed with sweets and named a price I knew didn’t cover even a quarter of what she’d packed in there. I tried to protest, but Daisy’s grandmother shook her head firmly. “You tell Nicky to come in and see me the next time his mama or Miss Martha brings him into town. I’ll have a cookie and a cocoa with his name on it.”
“I’ll tell him,” I promised, hefting the box under my arm. Mrs. Hutchins had definitely gone overboard. I couldn’t say a thing, considering the huge batch of marshmallow squares and brownie bites I had planned. And I couldn’t bring myself to care.
As I drove home, I wondered when was the last time I did something for someone else with nothing to gain for myself? It shamed me to say that I couldn’t remember. I’d been the center of my life for so many years, first out of sheer self-preservation, then out of habit. I made food for people all the time, but that was for a paycheck. My professional pride and satisfaction in my work was for me.
This whole trick-or-treat thing was for Nicky, and damn, it felt good to do something just because it would make Nicky smile. Because he was a good kid in a crappy situation. I knew my last-minute trick-or-treat and scavenger hunt wasn’t the same as going out on Halloween with his friends. It wouldn’t be as good as the bonfire at the Inn, but it would be better than nothing.
At the least, I had everything I needed to get him his sugar fix. Back in my own kitchen, I unloaded my haul, mixed up the marshmallow squares, and got the brownie bites in the oven.
Savannah lifted a hand in a wave as she rushed past me, disappearing down the hall to her apartment. As she opened the door, I caught the sound of Nicky’s wet, hacking cough. He sounded like shit. Poor kid. He was getting shafted on the best holiday of the year. I couldn’t stop hearing the tearful misery in his voice as he begged Savannah to let him trick-or-treat. I couldn’t erase the pain in her voice as she’d told him no.