Page 8 of Magic in Mistletoe
“You know Rosie. She’s a rare talent.”
“You are so right, my dear,” said Mrs. Anderson. “Well, I’m going to pick up eight of these chocolate truffles. I have the ladies over for bridge today, and these are absolutely mouthwatering.”
“Great,” Sadie said and packed them up. Mrs. Anderson knew everyone, but she wasn’t a gossip like Eleanor. Should she ask about Martin Kringle? “I...had an interesting visitor yesterday. A toymaker named Martin Kringle.”
“Ah, yes!” Mrs. Anderson exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “I’ve heard of him. A very kind man, they say, but quite mysterious.”
Sadie leaned in closer. “Mysterious? How so?”
“Well, I’ve never met him myself, but the rumors say he’s a bit...magical, if you can believe it,” Mrs. Anderson whispered conspiratorially.
“Magical?” Sadie scoffed, her skepticism flaring up. “There’s no such thing.”
“Perhaps not,” Mrs. Anderson replied, her smile unwavering. “But one can’t help but wonder, can they? And we can use a little magic around here. We lost three businesses from Main Street this year. Thank goodness you took over your grandmother’s store, and thank goodness for Mr. Kringle. Without more new investment, this town will disappear from the map.”
“Oh, that’s awful.” And no pressure. Did Mrs. Anderson seriously place the burden of saving the town on Sadie’s shoulders? And Martin’s?
Sadie smiled tightly as Mrs. Anderson paid for her confections and left the store. Stress tightened her chest. Sadie had inherited the store. If it failed, she was hardly to blame. The store was barely breaking even when she’d taken over, and what could she, someone completely new to the business—let alone the town—do to improve things? And what about Martin Kringle? Did he realize the hopes that were pinned to his success? If he did, would he still be so jolly?Jolly? Since when did she start using words like jolly?
All this Christmas talk must be wearing off on her.
“It won’t take magic to save this town,” she said to the empty store. “It will take a miracle.”
Chapter 5
“Hereyougo,sweetie,”Martin said, placing a plate of pancakes in front of his daughter, Nora. “Eat up.”
“Thanks, Dad. Pancakes are my favorite.” She took a big bite. “Are you going to the candy store today to check on your order?”
“I might.” Martin sat across from her, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Can I come?”
“Sure. If you’d like to.”
Nora eyed him suspiciously. “That was too easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, typically, there’s more resistance when I suggest taking me out into the big, bad world.”
“I do not call it that.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “Dad, relax. I’m joking. But seriously, normally I ask, and you say, ‘I don’t know. We have to be careful,’ and then I say, ‘I’m fourteen and know not to let the cat out of the bag,’ and you say, ‘let me think about it,’ before you agree and the lecture about me eventually taking over the business begins.”
“I don’t do that.” Martin thought for a moment. “Okay, maybe I do, but we can’t take our responsibility too lightly.”
“Yeah, I know. But since you were so quick to agree this time, does that mean they know who you are?”
“No, sweetie, they don’t.”
“Are you going to tell them? They’re working for you.”
Martin scratched his beard. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“Mom knew.”
“Well, of course mom knew. We’d known each other since we were kids. You know that. My relationship with the candy store is strictly business. And even if it wasn’t, it’s difficult for people to accept that our family is...different.”
