Page 9 of Kept for Christmas

I thought I was talking Mrs. Robinson out of something, but instead, she turned the tables on me. “This is going to sound so dumb, but I’ve always wanted to be a baker. Not with my own shop, but from home, ya know? I’d like to bake cookies and set them on a little stand by the road or take orders from locals. A really small, kind of homey feel to the whole thing.”

She squeezes my hand again. “That sounds perfect for you, honey. What’s your signature cookie?”

“I make these cowboy cookies that people love… but I don’t know. I see a few girls in town already have similar dreams. Anything baking in this town is probably over done.”

“Not true. Everyone makes things differently. Besides, you just mentioned cowboy cookies. No one does that. I bet this time of year would be an especially great time to get a cookie business started. I know the bakery in town can’t keep up with demand.”

“You think so?” I glance up at Nick who’s climbing down from the ladder. I can see why he plays Santa up at the tree farm. The sight of a man climbing down from a roof in the middle of the night with his red coat on already has me smiling ear to ear.

“I do. Tell you what,” she pulls a piece of paper and a pen from the center console of the car, “I’ll be your first order. I’ll take two dozen cowboy cookies. No… four. I need them for the church social next Thursday. Do you think you could do that?”

I stare toward Mrs. Robinson, a little slack jawed. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, and I don’t want to hear any offer for free cookies. I’m paying you the market price. So, come up with a total and send it over.” She pulls on the handle of her door as Nick rounds the car.

“Well,” his tone is deep and immediately comforting, “you’re all set. Doesn’t look like there’s any permanent damage up there, but I’ll come by after I finish my plow rounds, and we can make sure in the daylight.”

“Oh honey,” she leans into Nick and hugs him tight, “thank you. I’ll make sure and send you a nice fat check.”

“No. It’s on the house. I still owe you from that dinner you made me last weekend.”

She waves her hand toward him. “I’m paying you. I love you both, so be safe driving. And Emma, I’m counting on those cookies, dear. I don’t bake like I used to. The church ladies will be all kinds of disappointed if I show up empty-handed.”

I lean in and hug Mrs. Robinson as the cold breeze blows up the long work shirt I’m wearing. I can’t believe I forgot pants.

Nick wraps me against his chest and opens the truck door, helping me inside as Mrs. Robinson makes her way into the house.

“What was that all about?” His tone is low as he rounds the truck.

“I don’t know.” I sigh and say, “I was supposed to be helping her but now I’m starting a new business.”

He laughs. “Well, there you go. I agree. You should be baking.”

“I can’t make a living off baking cookies, Nick. I’d love to, but it’s not realistic. I’ll make hers and…”

“No, no, no.” He starts up the engine and backs into the road. “Let’s try it. You could make samples and start small by selling them at the country store on the farm.”

I hadn’t thought of selling in the country store. Still, though, it doesn’t make sense. “How will I contribute to household bills? We’re getting married. We need a lot of extra money right now.”

He pulls up the stop sign at the corner and stares toward me in the dim light of the moon shining through the front windshield. “I’ll take care of us. I agree with Mrs. R. You should be doing something you love.”

“So… what? I just quit the bank?”

“Yeah, you’re on break already, anyway. After Christmas let them know that you’re leaving.”

I can feel my eyes widen and my heart swell with something I’ve never felt before. Part of it is worry for myself given the fact that I’d forgotten I was on break. The other part is sheer love for this man who’s willing to support me while I go after my dream.

“Are you sure? I could never repay you.”

“You will, though.” He winks in my direction. “I promise.”

I slide toward him and tuck under his arm as he flicks off the blinker and heads up the mountain. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Better than I was. What about you? Everything good?”

“Yeah,” I brush back a strand of stray hair from my vision, “I was just getting worried you weren’t into me anymore.”

“God, no. I’m into you. Like really fuckin’ into you.” He reaches for my hand and holds it tightly in his.

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