Second Chance at the Sugar Shack (14 page)

While he wolfed down his food, she filled his water bowl and put on the red dog collar she’d bought as well. She’d resisted the one with pink rhinestones. No male dog in his right mind would be caught dead in rhinestones. Well, at least not a Montana dog.

“Looks like your new friend will be styling now,” her dad said. “What are you going to name him?”

She pulled out the fleece dog bed she’d purchased and looked up. “Oh. I’m not keeping him. I’ll find his parents.”

“Looks to me like his owners might not have wanted him. He’s awful thin.”

“How could anybody not want him?” She kneeled down and baby-talked to the dog. “He’s such a cute widdle boy.” The pup responded by wagging his tail and slurping a lick up the side of her face.

Her dad laughed. “Well, it looks like he’s going to claim you whether you want it or not. Nice jacket by the way.”

Kate stood and looked down at the embroidered logo on the front of the jacket that read
County Sheriff
. Engrossed with her canine rescue she’d completely forgotten she’d had it on.

“I went fishing at the lake and . . . I ran into Matt Ryan. I didn’t know he lived in Old Man Anderson’s place.”

“Yeah, he’s done a nice job of fixing that up. Now all he needs is a nice wife and some kids to fill it. Did he tell you he was running for sheriff?”

Kate nodded and lifted the puppy to take him outside to do his business. “He mentioned something about that.”

“So you two are on speaking terms now?” he dad asked.

Speaking terms? No. Tongue tangling terms? Maybe. “Ummm, not really.”

Her dad leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. “So how’d you end up with his jacket?”

“Ummm . . . I was cold and I . . . guess he was just trying to get another vote.”

“But you won’t be around long enough to vote for him, will you?”

Her chest tightened. Would she?

K
ate closed her bedroom door and set the puppy down. He’d been a good boy outside and she hoped he’d be housebroken enough so she wouldn’t wake in the morning with dog doodles all over her floor. He sat on his haunches and looked up at her, cocking his head in that funny dog way that made her laugh.

“You are cute, I’ll give you that.” Kate stuck her hands in the pockets of Matt’s jacket while she watched the puppy roll on his back, wiggle, and snort. In the right pocket a piece of paper poked her hand. She withdrew the note, unfolded it, and stared at the bold handwriting.

Emma Hart

Sarah Collins

Lacy Shaw

Diane Fielding

Kate turned the paper over but the back was blank. Obviously he’d made a list. But for what? She checked the pockets for anything else but came up empty. She laid the list on her bed and looked at it while she changed into the flannel
Princess Power
pajamas Kate Hudson had given her on her last birthday. She set the puppy’s fleece bed beneath the opening of the antique vanity her mother had rescued from a home that had burned in Bozeman when she was a kid. A quick coat of white paint had restored it. Later, Kate had added the gold details when she’d gone through her Princess Jasmine phase.

She squatted down and patted the floor. The puppy, full from a good meal, waddled over and plunked down beside her. “This is your bed.” She patted the warm fleece. “You can take it with you when we find your parents. But for now you can sleep in it here. Okay?”

The puppy looked up at her then placed his front paws on her leg and licked her chin. She laughed, kissed his moist nose, then set him in the doggie bed, and waited until he lay down and made himself comfortable.

“Night, night, little guy.” She turned off the overhead light, grabbed Matt’s list from her comforter and crawled beneath the sheets. She clicked on her bedside lamp and studied the names. Who were these women? What did Matt have to do with them? Were they suspects? Criminals? Terrorists? Prostitutes?

Prostitutes in Deer Lick? Okay, that was funny. The only street walkers she’d ever encountered were drunks leaving the bar or dumpster-diving raccoons. But these names had to mean something. She studied the list some more. Coming up with no answers, she refolded it, placed it on the nightstand and turned off the light.

A minute later the puppy whined. She figured he’d do that for a few minutes then, feeling safe, fall asleep. But he had other ideas and he jumped up on her bed.

“Hey.” She rubbed his head. “What are you doing up here? You have your own place to snooze.”

The puppy grunted, then lay down in the crook of her knees, snuggling himself as close to her as he could get. Kate laughed and said, “Okay, but just for tonight.”

The puppy sighed. Kate tucked her hands beneath her cheek and closed her eyes. Moments later they popped open again. There’d be no sleeping tonight.

Not until she figured out Matt’s mystery list.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

D
awn had yet to break as Kate sat in the storeroom of the bakery looking through her mother’s recipes and trying to come up with something new to break the monotony of doughnuts and dinner rolls. The puppy snored at her feet in his fleece bed beneath the table where she sat. Somehow she’d let him talk her into bringing him to work, though she knew a bakery was the last place a dog should be hanging out.

After taking his picture she stapled it to a
FOUND
flyer she’d scribbled and taped to the front window. Hopefully someone would recognize him and could take him home to his parents. Not that she minded the feel of his furry body curled around her feet or the cute little groans he gave when he stretched. But she was just sure someone out there must miss him terribly.

She reached down, stroked his head, and then continued to flip through pages and pages of recipes without much success. She wanted something really different. Something that would rock Deer Lick on its boot heels.

Anticipation drove her to grab her laptop and scan the Internet. As she checked bakery websites from Vegas to Savannah time flew. Somehow she ended up on cable TVs
Cake Boss
site. From lopsided Mad Hatter types to extravagant black and gold tiered wedding ensembles, the cake creations were amazing. Breathtaking. A tingle went up her back and her creative fingers started to twitch. She continued to click through until Google sent her to a site that made her laugh out loud.

Her wheels started to spin.

If she wanted to rock and shock Deer Lick, she’d found a way to make it happen. What she had in mind would not only get the gossip going, it might very well put the Sugar Shack on the map.

By the time the bakery’s back door opened and her father stepped into the storeroom, Kate had her
treat
dilemma figured out and had ordered the supplies online. In the meantime, she’d make some standard yet tasty varieties while she waited for her weapons of mass deliciousness to arrive.

“You’re here early,” her dad said, hanging up his coat on the hook near the door. “And I see you’ve brought a friend.”

Kate pressed the key to shut down her computer and looked up. “I’m sorry, Dad. When I tried to leave this morning, he whimpered so bad I just couldn’t leave him. I put up a flyer on the front window.”

Her dad smiled, patted her on the shoulder, and said, “Its okay, sweetheart. Just keep him in the storeroom.”

“I will. I promise.”

She closed the cover of her laptop while her dad put on his apron.

“I see you have your mother’s recipes out,” he said, reaching behind to tie the apron strings.

“I thought I’d try something new.” She looked up and caught the concern in his eyes. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“Heavens no. Your mother was always whipping up something. And it wasn’t always gossip.”

He paused and Kate knew he was picturing her mother in his head. She smiled, remembering how her mother loved a good scandal. So did Kate. Maybe she walked in her mother’s shoes a little more than she realized.

“Did you find something in her files?”

“Actually, I’m kind of winging this one. I’ve got a couple of ideas. The trick will be to see if I can make them happen.”

Her father smiled, crossed the storeroom and wrapped her in his arms. “You can do anything you want, Katie girl. I believe in you. I always have.”

If only her mother had said those words ten years ago. Things could have been much different. Kate allowed her father’s love to wash over her as she hugged him back. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He gave her an added squeeze. And even when he stepped away she still felt the warmth of him in her heart.

“Well, I’d better get to those donuts. The morning crowd will be banging on the window soon.” He smiled again and stood there looking at her the same way he had on the day she’d pulled in that derby winning trout.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m just so glad you’re here, honey. I’ve missed you.”

A lump lodged in her throat. “I’ve missed you too, Dad. I really have.”

He gave her a wink, then disappeared through the door. She heard his footsteps on the concrete floor, then the familiar sounds of the bakery coming to life.

Today was going to be a great day. She could just feel it in her bones.

T
oday sucked.

Kate looked at the clock. It was only noon and already she felt like she’d been standing for ten hours.

Angie Dewhurst wanted a refund on the cinnamon rolls she’d bought yesterday because they didn’t have enough icing on top. Of course, Angie didn’t bother to return the defective pastries. Her children, supposedly, had devoured them regardless of their lack of sugared trimmings. From Kate’s point of view, Angie Dewhurst needed to lay off the icing and find her way to a nice salad.

Jeremy Morrison ordered a full sheet cake for Arnold Aiken’s bachelor party. Jeremy wanted the cake to be filled with three different flavors and he wanted a naked woman on top. Jeremy didn’t know he’d just handed Kate the ticket to her new line of pastries. She’d never created pink icing boobs, but now was a great time to learn.

Their weekly delivery of supplies had been delayed due to an early season snowstorm coming out of Idaho. And so far, everyone who looked at the puppy flyer commented that he looked just like any other golden retriever and they had no idea who he might belong to.

Just when she thought the day couldn’t get any worse, the bakery door opened and Edna Price hobbled in. Damn. Too late to hide. Kate forced a smile to her lips while Edna approached.

“You still here?” Edna asked, propping her moose-head cane against the counter.

“Yep,” Kate ground out between clenched teeth.

Edna eyed her up and down. “You got on your mama’s apron?”

“I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“Hmmmph. Give me an egg salad on rye. No mustard. I’m allergic.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Price.” Kate turned toward the prep counter and glanced at the bottle of Gulden’s sitting next to the mayo. She grabbed two slices of rye, a scoop of egg salad and resisted the temptation to squirt a tiny drop of mustard on top. Her intention had been to smash down the mix and make the messiest sandwich she’d ever created in her life. But for some reason, just as she thought she was getting used to being detested, hated, and despised, the need to please nudged her conscience and she gently ejected the egg mix onto the bread. Next she carefully placed perfect lettuce leaves on top and wrapped it with two pickle spears instead of the usual one. Any extra points she could gain from Countess Crotchety couldn’t hurt.

She slid the wrapped sandwich into a bag and handed it to Edna who looked at it with mistrust.

“You put a pickle wedge in there?”

“Two pickles wedges.”

Edna’s rheumy eyes widened. “I’m not payin’ extra.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” Kate reached for the customary bag of Lays.

“No chips. They make my fingers swell up like bloated udders. But I’ll take one of them instead.”

“No chips. Got it.” Kate reached inside the display case and folded a square of parchment over the brownie Edna had chosen.

“How much do I owe you?” Edna asked, digging into her worn red change purse.

Kate slipped the brownie inside the bag, refolded the edge and politely handed it back to Edna. “My treat today, Mrs. Price.”

Grey brows slammed together. “I don’t need no charity.”

“Consider this a peace offering. If you’ll excuse me, I have another customer,” Kate said, referring to the gorgeous blond hunk in uniform standing behind the countess.

Edna turned and tapped the deputy on the thigh with the moose-head. “Well, well, James Harley. Fancy seeing you in here.”

“Just picking up lunch, Mrs. Price. And might I say you’re looking especially lovely today.”

Kate watched the deputy’s dark brown eyes twinkle as he flashed a billion dollar movie star smile at the old woman. Kate had met plenty of BSers in her day. James Harley just might be their king.

“Flatterer.” Edna actually giggled and there was a little spring to her step as she hobbled to the door. Then she stopped and looked back at Kate and held up the lunch bag. “Mighty nice of you,” she said, and then she was gone.

James Harley stepped to the counter and flashed Kate that same charming grin. Whatever he was selling, she wasn’t buying.

“How can I help you, Deputy?”

He leaned against the counter and gazed into her eyes. “A date Friday night sounds good. Just you and me and a bottle of cabernet beneath the stars.”

“Shucks.” Kate laughed. “I’m only here on a day-to-day basis. By Friday I could be in Morocco.”

He straightened his broad shoulders and grinned even wider. “Well, that’s the most interesting rejection I’ve ever received.”

She leaned forward and patted his hand. “I’m sure you don’t get many. Now, what would you like to order?”

Without looking at the menu he said, “Two tuna subs. No tomato. Two iced teas.”

“Sooo, I take it you work with Matt Ryan?” she said as she went to the prep counter, grabbed the picnic rolls and sliced them open.

“How’d you know?”

“Oh, just a wild guess.”

He grinned. “It’s the uniform, right?”

She lifted the sliced roll. “The sandwich. Tuna sub, no tomato. His standard.”

“Ah, yes. Well, our boy doesn’t like to venture outside his comfort zone much.”

How was that possible for a man who risked his life every time he put on his uniform? Kate finished the order and placed the bag of food on the counter. “Can you hang on just a minute?”

“You bet. Change your mind about Friday night?”

“Sorry.” She went into the storeroom and returned with Matt’s jacket. “Would you mind returning this to Deputy Ryan?”

James’s brows lifted and a smile exploded across his calendar boy mouth. “Sure.”

“And tell him I found his
hit
list in the pocket. So if anyone shows up dead, I’m onto him.”

“His hit list?” James reached inside the pocket and withdrew the folded note. He scanned the paper then laughed. “Sorry, beautiful, this isn’t what you think.”

“Oh?” She accepted the twenty dollar bill he handed her and punched the amount into the cash register. For a moment she didn’t think he’d tell her what the names on that list meant. Curiosity gnawed at her insides.

James refolded the note, slipped it back into the jacket pocket, and grabbed the bag and drinks from the counter. As he juggled everything in his hands he said, “Our boy just loves to make lists. And that one is probably his lamest.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because
that
is his potential wife list.”

W
ith the bakery closed and only the kitchen area lights on, Kate dropped the container of maple ice cream onto the counter and glanced at the blackness beyond the front window. She’d been at work since before dawn, now here she still was after dark. But while fatigue crept through her body, excitement pushed it aside. Tonight she’d try her hand at a new creation. She felt a little like a pastry Picasso, eager to get her creative juices flowing.

Something equally as intriguing slipped into her head as she pried open the ice cream container lid.

Matt’s wife list.

Four names had been on that paper. Which one had been the redhead she’d seen at his cabin? Was she his top choice? Last in line? Exactly what kind of woman was he looking for? Why would someone as gorgeous as Matt Ryan need a list? With all his good deeds and homegrown spirit he definitely made ideal husband material. And as for his talent in the bedroom—or in her case the back of a pickup truck—he’d had that aced at twenty-two years old.

Her cell phone rang and stole her mind from all things tingly and sweaty. She wiped her hands on her apron and lifted the phone from the counter. “Hey, Josh.”

“Please tell me you’ve changed your mind about staying in Deer Spit.”

Kate wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder. “No can do, Tonto. I’m up to my elbows in ice cream and brownies.”

“Careful you don’t get fat.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“You work in a
bakery
.”

He made it sound like she worked in a sewage plant. Kate glanced at the display case where cream puffs snuggled temptingly beside a row of baklava. Okay, so she might have snarfed down a brownie or two. Or three. No big deal. Her jeans still fit. For now. Besides, brownies were a hell of a lot tastier than her usual Pepsi and Power Bar. “Working in a bakery is an honorable way to make a living.”

“Yeah, if someone offers you a cable show and a wad of cash.”

“It’s homey,” she insisted.

“It’s lame,” Josh said with a final dig. “News update. Faith Hill called. She wants you to create the wardrobe for her upcoming tour.”

Grabbing a new package of baking cups from the shelf, Kate asked, “When does the tour start?”

“In March. She was a little anxious to find you were on extended LOA.”

Kate sighed. “Give her my cell number. I promise I’ll be back . . . way before then. I have several good possibilities to hire for the bakery and dad seems to be adjusting okay.”

“Hallelujah. Do you still want me to send the gowns?”

Ah, her little side project. She couldn’t possibly let those girls down. “Yes. ASAP.” She had a lot to do in just a few weeks. But if she could survive fashion week in New York, she could endure anything. Who needed sleep? “In fact, send them overnight. The girls are almost done painting the place and the racks have been installed. So I have a place to hang them now.”

“Oh goody.”

“Look, Josh, I know you’ve been doing a great job with me gone. I want to thank you for saving my bacon.”

“Just bring that bacon home fast, sweetie, cuz breakfast is being served short order.”

“Right. Josh? One more thing, and I hate to ask, but what’s up with Inara?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Great. Kate tossed the phone on a pile of towels, scooped the ice cream into a large bowl, and stirred it with the wooden spoon.

She’d lied to Josh.