Page 6 of A Christmas Spark
“Hey,” she murmured, stepping close enough that the small kitten could sniff her outstretched fingers. “How on earth did you get in there?” The opening to the bird feeder was small, technically just large enough for a kitten to wedge its way in, but it would have had to crawl up the pole and clamber in. A quick look at the post holding up the feeder told Mabel that it had done just that—there were tiny claw marks all in the wood.
The kitten meowed again, bumping its small, soft head up against Mabel’s fingers, and her heart melted a little. The small squeaking sounds that it made absolutely enchanted her, and she scratched behind one tiny ear, only jolted out of staring at the adorable kitten by a sudden gust of wind that reminded her just how cold it was out.
“We need to get you inside,” she said decisively. She reached in carefully, wrapping her hand gently around the small creature, and lifted it out. It wriggled a little in her grasp, quickly calming down when she tucked it against her robe, once again letting out a series of small meows that made Mabel grin with delight.
“It’s too cold out for tiny things like you,” she said, rubbing the top of the kitten’s head with her thumb as she carried it back in. “Let’s get you some breakfast too, hmm?”
She carried the kitten back into the house, making sure that the back door and the window that she’d cracked open were securely closed. Holding the small animal against her robe, she glanced at the timer on the oven—which was nearly up—and went to the cupboard to take out a small saucer.
The kitten meowed again as she went to the fridge, taking out a carton of milk from the local farm. She poured a little into the saucer, setting it atop the oven for a moment to heat up, just as the timer went off.
The sudden beeping startled the kitten, which dug all four paws into Mabel’s robe. Thankfully, it was thick enough that the claws didn’t go through, and Mabel chuckled, trying to soothe the small animal as she got her cinnamon roll out.
“You’re alright,” she promised it, putting her breakfast on a plate, and adding a bit more coffee to her cup to reheat it. The milk in the saucer was lukewarm now, and she took it off of the stove, setting it down along with the tiny kitten, next to the table in the breakfast nook.
“There you go,” Mabel cooed. “You eat your breakfast, and I’ll eat mine.” She settled into the nook with her cinnamon roll and coffee, drizzling a little extra maple icing over the pastry as she sipped her eggnog latte and watched the kitten.
It looked at the milk suspiciously for a moment, before dipping its head, taking one taste, and then beginning to lap eagerly at the puddle of it in the saucer. Within seconds, there was a small white beard of milk on the black and brown kitten’s chin, and Mabel chuckled delightedly as she watched the small creature scarf down its breakfast.
She ate hers a bit more leisurely, enjoying the cinnamon roll and coffee in small bites and sips, keeping one eye on the kitten as she took in the lovely, snowy landscape of her backyard from the breakfast nook. Finally, she glanced at the clock and saw that it was a little past time for her to be getting ready for work.
“You,” she said firmly to the kitten, as she carried her plate and mug, and the kitten’s saucer, to the sink. “Wait right here for me. I’ve got to go get ready for the day.”
The kitten responded with a plaintive meow that Mabel hoped was in the affirmative. Mabel reached down to scratchit once more behind the ears, before heading upstairs to get dressed for the workday.
A half hour later, she was ready. She always dressed comfortably for work, usually in a pair of broken-in jeans that were soft with wear and age, and one of her many thick wool sweaters this time of year. Today she’d chosen one in a deep plum, and pulled her curly, bobbed silver hair back with a headband that had small silver sugarplums on the black silk. She added a pair of festive, sparkly silver snowflake earrings and headed downstairs to check on the kitten before leaving for work.
The moment she stepped into the kitchen, she saw the puff of brown and black fur sitting on the countertop, right in the middle of a pile of scattered utensils. It had, quite clearly, knocked over the utensil container while exploring her kitchen countertops.
Mabel sighed, walking over to the counter to scoop the tiny creature up, reorganizing the utensils in their ceramic container with her other hand. She would likely be a few minutes late to start the opening duties for the shop, but she supposed that was one of the perks of working for herself—she was the only one she really had to answer to.
The kitten let out a small meow, burrowing into Mabel’s sweater with its small claws buried in the neckline. Mabel couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling it start to purr as it curled against her chest.
“Well, if I leave you unsupervised all day, I don’t think I’m going to recognize my home when I get back.” Mabel let out another sigh, looking down at the tiny creature.
“I suppose you’re coming to work with me today, then.”
CHAPTER FIVE
A knock came at the door of Artisan Chocolates just as Imogen was finishing closing down the register for the evening. She looked up to see Vanessa on the other side of it, waving one mittened hand, and Imogen quickly went to unlock the door and let her in.
She smiled as her friend stepped into the shop, closing and re-locking the door behind her. As usual, Vanessa looked very well put together, although her wardrobe had adjusted to be a bit more rustic since she’d fully moved back to Fir Tree Grove. Tonight, Imogen noticed, Vanessa was wearing a pair of black jeans, and a dove-gray cashmere sweater peeked out of the opening at the top of her puffy black jacket with a brown faux fur ruff. Vanessa’s auburn hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and a pair of green lacquer earrings with garnet centers shaped like holly leaves were her choice of jewelry for the outfit.
“You look great,” Imogen said, feeling a little underdressed, still in her work clothes. “Give me just a minute to finish up, and we’ll head out. I’m sorry I’m running late, I meant to go home and shower and change first, but I’ve been a little behind on work. I thought I’d be done right after six when we closed.”
“It’s totally fine,” Vanessa promised, walking over to the small table in the rounded corner of the shop, flanked by three windows that looked out to the brightly lit, snow-covered street. “I’ll just wait while you finish up. There’s no rush.”
Imogen nodded, grateful that Vanessa was patient. She quickly finished up her deposit for the evening, tucking it into the safe, before checking to make sure that all of the chocolates had been stored away, the cabinets wiped down, and the appliances at the hot chocolate station were shut down and cleaned. Finally, she let out a sigh, glancing over at Vanessa, who had a book in one hand, reading as she was waiting.
“Just a few more minutes,” she promised Vanessa, glancing quickly at her phone. Katie was spending the evening with a friend, so that Imogen and Vanessa could have their planned ‘grown-up time’, or rather, the belated lunch-turned-dinner that they’d had to reschedule. Fortunately, Imogen saw a text from the friend’s mother letting her know that both girls had gotten there without issue, and Imogen relaxed a little. That was one thing handled, at least.
She had one task left to do before they left. Lincoln Blackwell, the owner of the local ice-skating rink, regularly ordered hot chocolate powder from her for the hot cocoa stand at the rink. She always dropped off the order, and she was supposed to do it tonight—yet another thing that she’d meant to get done before meeting Vanessa at the tavern. It seemed as if, this time of year, everything piled up faster than she could get to it.
Heading to the storeroom, she got the bags of powder, stacking them into two large canvas totes that she could use to carry them. She double-checked against the invoice that she had all that Lincoln had paid for, before fishing her phone out from her back pocket to send him a text.
IMOGEN: Hey, Lincoln. I’m sorry the order for the hot cocoa powder is late. I meant to have it to youearlier this evening, and everything kind of caught up to me all at once. Do you want me to deliver it tomorrow instead?
She was privately hopeful that he might say yes; if so, she could simply leave the delivery for the morning, head out with Vanessa now, and then come in to the shop early to grab the delivery and take it over to Lincoln. Her phone chimed almost immediately, though, and she frowned.
