Page 4 of Magic in Mistletoe
“Yes.”
“Well, nice to meet you. I’ve been meaning to come into the candy store. My mother has been raving about it. Are you open this afternoon?”
“We are. Until six. And I’ll pass along your mother’s compliments to Rosie.”
“Great. We’ll be by later.” She hoisted the heavy basket onto the counter for Caleb. “See you then.”
Sadie nodded, then caught Caleb’s eye. “Told you so,” he mouthed at her.
Hopefully, he was right.
Chapter 3
Whileowningacandystore had never been Sadie's dream career, it was hard not to appreciate the symphony of color and sweetness and how Rosie’s carefully crafted confections sang out to passersby—except Eleanor, of course. But, Sadie mused, Caleb might have been right about not everyone waiting for her to fail, as there had been a steady stream of customers recently. So much so that Sadie was busy refilling the candy on a whimsical carousel in the shop’s front window.
“Always away from direct sunlight,” she said under her breath, mocking Rosie’s instructions. “As if that’s a problem here.”
The door jingled, followed by a gust of icy wind and a man with a jovial countenance, a gap-toothed smile, thick blond hair, and a well-trimmed beard. He shook off the snow that clung to his bright red coat and stomped his feet on the doormat, his breath forming a small cloud in the chilly air as the door closed.
“Good morning!” he boomed, his velvety deep voice filling the store like music. Sadie noted his robust build—he looked like the kind of man who could chop wood for hours without breaking a sweat—and the twinkle in his eye that suggested he held a million secrets.
Too bad she hated secrets.
“Morning,” she replied curtly.
“Quite the selection you’ve got here,” the man said, his eyes scanning the colorful display of candies and chocolates. “I must say, I’m impressed.”
“Thanks,” Sadie said. “We do our best.”
“Ah, well, I can see that. My name’s Martin Kringle, by the way. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Kringle? I think you mean Kris Kringle, and I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
Martin chuckled, seemingly unfazed by her grumpy demeanor. “Named Martin by my parents. Would you like to see some identification?” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “It’s my grandfather who’s named Kris, and to be honest, it’s a traditional family name, but it usually skips a few generations.” He held out an Alaskan driver’s license.
Sadie squinted at the piece of ID. Sure enough. Martin Kringle.
“My apologies, Mr. Kringle,” she replied, her voice clipped and short, reluctant to trust him despite the evidence. Surely that whole Kris Kringle thing was a joke. Having a surname like Kringle at this time of year must get tiresome, and she regretted her previous comments. “So, what can I get for you?”
“Please, call me Martin,” he said with a grin. “And I’d like to place a special order. A very large order. In fact, it will take a while to prepare, so I hope there is enough time between now and Christmas Eve.”
Sadie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. Would Eleanor have sent him in as some kind of test? Surely not. The woman was a gossip. Nothing more. “Fine. Let me grab a notepad, and we can go from there.”
“Sounds perfect,” Martin said, his eyes crinkling due to his enormous smile. “Thank you, Sadie.”
“You’re welcome. Do you—” Sadie froze. She didn’t remember introducing herself. How did he know her name? Oh, she must have told him. Besides, even if she hadn’t, the whole town knew who she was. “Do you want to start with some samples?”
“That would be great.”
As she began to gather samples and calculate costs, Sadie glanced up at Martin, who was whistling “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” while perusing the shelves. The snow on his red coat had melted, yet it sparkled like ice crystals in the sun. Sadie’s stomach churned with butterflies, giving her an odd sense of anticipation as she again wondered what secrets lay hidden behind his bright eyes and rugged good looks. She shook her head, clearing her mind.No more sugar for you today.
“Sadie, you have an enchanting selection here,” Martin said, his eyes dancing from display to display. “Tell me, what’s the story behind these striped candies?”
“Peppermint twists,” Sadie replied. If this man did have secrets, she didn’t want to know about them. All secrets did was cause pain. “And there’s no story. Rosie makes them using my grandmother’s recipe. They’re a popular choice during the holidays.”
“Ah, wonderful! I can imagine how delightful they would taste after a long day in the cold,” Martin exclaimed, his enthusiasm almost infectious. Almost.
“Suppose so,” Sadie mumbled, uncomfortable with the way she enjoyed the rich tone of his voice.
