Page 2 of Hallowed Tree
I was feeling the same way, not that I’d admit that to him. “I’m going to make a cake,” I said decisively. “They’ll need a treat when they get back.”
Buck fist-pumped the air. “Yes! A congratulatory dessert. I’ll help.” He went to where I kept the baking ingredients and began pulling them out of the cabinet.
“What are you doing? We don’t have to make anything from scratch. Chance bought a lovely assortment of boxed cake mix and frostings.”
There was a lot of things that I didn’t particularly care for in this era. With the introduction of technology, people had lost the ability to interact with each other and entertain themselves. They had nature for a playground, and yet, they’d gone from staring at the box with moving pictures in the living room to those stupid cell phones that they carried around all over the place. I hadn’t minded telephones too much since they were at least still communicating with each other. Seriously, the art of conversation seemed to be deader than me.
But mixes and other helpful tools for the kitchen and house? Those I could appreciate. It was no easy task running a homeas large as this one, especially since this owner and the last had turned it into a place for tourists to stay. Goodness, people were messy and had no appreciation for those of us who had to clean up after them. The easier it was to create sweet treats, the better. Not that I applied that to real meals. Those frozen dinners were disgusting.
Buck balanced ingredients in one of his large arms while sticking his finger in his mouth and making a horrid retching sound. “No way am I using those.”
“Buck, I want it to be edible.”
The obnoxious man rolled his eyes at me. What a child. Really, I should’ve sent him out with the rest of them and left him to his fate. I didn’t need an annoying man-child messing up my kitchen.
“Calm down, Harry. I’m a baker.” He tilted his head to the side. “I guess I was a baker, but still…alive or dead, I know how to make the most scrumptious, yummy desserts.”
I glared at him. “For the last time, that’s Mr. Harry to you! And what do you mean a baker? Like that’s what you did in your spare time? I thought you were a fisherman.”
Proving that he wanted me to have a fit, he started banging around in the cabinet with the mixing bowls and other supplies, emerging with the fancyKitchenAidChance had brought with him.
He shook his head. “No, I fished for a hobby, but I was a pastry chef by trade. Don’t you worry yourself, Har—Mr. Harry. They’re going to love my super special chocolate cake. It has a secret ingredient that puts it over the top.” He winked at me.
Something fluttered where my stomach used to reside. What was that about? This man had me so…so…I didn’t even know. He was disruptive. If he was going to make dessert, what was I supposed to do? He really was a nuisance. “I guess I’ll help you then.”
“Nope,” he said, popping the P. “Then you’d find out my secret ingredient. I can’t have that.”
Planting my hands on my hips, I asked, “Why on earth not? It’s not like I’d steal it and make it for myself.”
“When you see how much they love this, you’re going to be so sad you can’t eat it, too. Next thing you know, you’ll be baking it for them so that you can get all the praise.”
Affronted, I tugged on my vest. “I don’t do things for praise. It’s honorable to do an honest day’s work.”
Buck winked at me—again! I swear, this man. “How about this, Mr. Harry. As long as I’m around, I’m in charge of all sweet treats. Why don’t you make coffee or something for them for when they get back? Maybe pull the liquor out of the cabinet. I’ll bet Mr. Chance will be ready for a stiff drink.”
I didn’t know about that, but if I could’ve, I would’ve tossed one back. I never was much of a drinker, but my calm quiet life had turned upside down. The big goofy man had taken over my kitchen. Who would’ve ever thought that he could bake? Who’d have even believed he could be helpful? Not me. I hoped they’d finished the nasty business at the pond soon because I didn’t know how much more of this version of Buck I could take.
Chapter One
Buck
“Mr. Harry’s going to kill you,” Stevie hissed.
I looked up at him from where I knelt in the closet. “No, he won’t. This is perfect.”
“You’re going to freak the guests out. How many times do they have to tell you to keep the hauntings to footsteps in the hall, some banging on the walls, and maybe a spooky noise or two?”
Stevie and I had become good buds since I’d become Mr. Harry’s official trainee, and he’d stayed on to live with his little brother, who was also an employee of the B&B. Not that I actually thought of myself or Harry as real staff, but he sure did.
“Relax. This is going to be great. You’ll see.”
The B&B had slowed down a lot during the winter, but with the introduction of the spring, we were booked back up. Which meant party time for me. With only one or two rooms occupied at a time during the slow season, the hauntings had really gotten boring. Plus, Harry hadn’t had as much to do, so he’d monitored my every move.
Trust me when I say, I loved being in that man’s space. I even enjoyed him bossing me around. Anytime Harry was willing to exist next to me, I was there for it. We’d developed a nice rhythm in the kitchen with him cooking meals while I did all the baking. Scotty had been interested in the baking side of things, so I’d spent the winter walking him step by step through breakfast yumminess, and we’d filled the alive ones up on muffins and cinnamon rolls and other delights.
As much as I loved that, Harry was an anal taskmaster when it came to the cleanliness of the old house. You’d think we were getting ready to host royalty with the militant execution of his cleaning schedule. It was fine when we worked on a project together, but I’d been relegated to bathroom duty by myself, and that was a complete drag. I swear I was being punished in the afterlife for not being the best about keeping my own bathroom clean during life.
Outside of Harry though, this is why I’d really stayed at the manor. Haunting those with a heartbeat made me giddy. Since I never had a spooky experience while I had a pulse, I tried thinking up all the creepy things that would’ve given me a rush. Then I cut the ideas in half and then halved them again so I wouldn’t get on Harry’s bad side. This idea was a winner.
