The Christmas Confection Read online

  They stepped into the room to find Tom’s parents and baby sister there with Lila. Tom hurried to kiss his wife’s rosy cheek then strode over to where the almost four-month-old baby cooed in her father’s arms.

  “What brings you in from the farm?” Tom asked, bending down and smiling at his sister. “How’s our little princess today?”

  “Fine,” Junie Grove said, glaring at her husband. “Jamie woke up from her nap with a sniffle. Your father was convinced she was about to succumb to some tragic malady, so we brought her to the doctor. Since we were in town, we dropped by to say hello and Lila invited us to stay for supper.”

  “We can’t be too careful with Jamie,” James Grove said, kissing the velvety brow of his baby girl.

  Fred had been surprised when he learned the couple expected to become parents again. Tom was an only child. He’d returned to Hardman the previous December when he’d injured his arm at work. In the time it took him to recuperate, he fell in love with Lila Granger and married her. But by spring, it was evident Tom’s parents were about to welcome another addition to their family.

  In fact, it seemed everywhere he looked in town his gaze landed on babies. Luke and Filly Granger’s little boy, Cullen, was a year old. Pastor Chauncy Dodd and his wife, Abby, welcomed their son, Owen, on Christmas Eve. Ginny and Blake Stratton were the proud parents of Seth, heir to his grandfather’s vast estate in England. And he couldn’t forget Gabe, Arlan and Alex Guthry’s jovial son. Every time he saw the baby, the little one was full of giggles and smiles.

  The sight of the babies and small children in Hardman made something Fred refused to explore or acknowledge ache in his chest. He supposed it was because he’d vowed to never wed, to never have a family of his own.

  Lest he allow his dark thoughts to consume him, he instead greeted Lila with a polite nod and handed her a small envelope he drew from the back pocket of his denims.

  Lila wiped her hands on her voluminous apron and took the envelope from him. She opened it and lifted a pinch of seeds in her fingers then cast him a curious look. “What’s this?” she asked.

  Fred shrugged and focused not on Lila but the floor near his feet. “Just some marigold seeds. When you and Tom came out to my place a few weeks back, you admired the flowers growing near the porch. I thought you might like some seeds to plant. They work real well to keep bugs out of your garden.” The small gift seemed rather stupid, now that he’d given it to her, but he forced himself to raise his gaze to meet hers.

  Delight shone in her gray eyes as she smiled and set the packet of seeds on the counter. “These are wonderful, Fred. Thank you for thinking of me. The flowers will be perfect in the garden I plan to plant in the spring. Why, there’s plenty enough seeds to plant in the flowerbeds around the house, too.”

  Pleased she’d accepted his gift, Fred relaxed. “You’re welcome.”

  “Have a seat. Dinner is ready and it’s best when it’s hot.” Lila tucked her arm around his and guided him over to the table where Tom held Jamie in his arms and made silly faces at the baby.

  Despite his determination to keep his distance, Fred moved next to Tom and held out a finger. The baby latched onto it and offered him a smile.

  Fred grinned at the little one then stepped back.

  “You didn’t mention what Doc said about Jamie, Mama,” Tom said, glancing at his mother.

  “He said she’s healthy and happy and a sniffle or two as the weather changes isn’t anything to worry over,” Junie said, giving her husband another pointed look. “Your father gets a little… concerned.”

  “I’m not taking any chances with our girl,” James said. He held out his hands and lifted the baby away from his son and into his arms. Tom pulled out a chair for Lila and took a seat beside her.

  Once they all were seated around the table and James offered thanks for the meal, the conversation flowed from happenings in town to the recent assassination of President McKinley.

  “I still can’t believe he was shot at the Pan-American Exposition in New York. It’s just deplorable,” Lila said, sitting back in her chair.

  “It is a horrible tragedy,” Junie said, reaching out and placing a hand over Lila’s in a comforting gesture. “In spite of the circumstances, I’m confident Teddy Roosevelt will serve well as president.”

  Fred agreed. He’d kept up on news of Roosevelt through the newspaper. President Roosevelt seemed like a man who would roll up his sleeves and lead by example. Roosevelt was the kind of man Fred wanted to follow and emulate — a man of strong morals and characteristics. Goodness knew he’d had enough bad examples in his lifetime.

  The sad looks on the women’s faces caused Fred to search for a less depressing topic. As he slathered creamy butter on a hot biscuit, he turned to Tom. “That article in your very fine newspaper about the sugar beet crop was quite interesting.”

  James looked up and nodded. “I thought so, too. Didn’t it say they plan to harvest around thirty-five thousand tons?”

  Tom wiped his mouth on his napkin and nodded. “That’s right. The harvest in La Grande will provide any number of jobs. From the information I received, the wages are above average, too.”

  “I heard they’re calling it the dawn of the sugar industry in the northwest,” Fred said, adding a heaping spoon of fresh berry jam to his biscuit. “Anything that helps create jobs like that is a good thing.”

  “How do they get sugar from the beets?” Lila asked, glancing from Tom to Fred.

  When Tom tipped his head toward Fred, he swallowed the bite of biscuit in his mouth. “They use a diffuser method to extract the sugar.”

  “A diffuser?” Junie asked, confused.

  “It’s similar to adding tea leaves to a pot of hot water,” Fred explained. “The leaves steep in the pot to bring out the flavor of the tea. The longer it steeps, the stronger the flavor. The process of drawing out sugar is akin to that.”

  Lila’s eyes brightened with understanding. “So they soak out the sugar, then I’m assuming it’s cleaned somehow and processed, and dried into crystals?”

  “Yes, my brilliant, beautiful wife,” Tom said, grinning at Lila.

  Fred experienced a twinge of envy for the obvious love his friends shared. He was happy for Tom and Lila. Happy they’d found each other and accepted the gift of love. But it wasn’t something Fred would ever know.

  He turned his thoughts back to the lively discussion around the table. By the time he ate his second helping of apple cake with fresh cream, Fred was stuffed. He’d learned to cook basic meals, but he never turned down a dinner invitation, especially when offered by Tom and Lila.

  James and Junie left for home immediately after the meal, but Fred stayed and helped Tom with the dishes. The two of them insisted Lila had done enough in preparing the meal. She didn’t hesitate to remove her apron and toss it to Tom with a wink then wander off to the parlor to read.

  Fred rolled up his sleeves and plunged his hands into the dishwater while Tom dried and put away the dishes.

  “Did you hear they found the girl who disappeared from the Red Lantern?” Tom asked in a quiet tone as he dried a serving platter.

  Fred gave him a surprised glance as he rinsed a large crystal bowl. “When? Was she alive?”

  Tom nodded. “Apparently, she got tired of working for Cecil Montague at the saloon and decided to venture to Pendleton. One of the regulars at the Red Lantern happened to come across her at a bordello run by a woman named Miss Clementine.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear she’s alive and unharmed.” Fred, and many other men in town, had silently worried about the disappearance of another soiled dove from Montague’s place of business.

  Fred had been fourteen when the first girl disappeared from the Red Lantern. During the next two years, three other girls went missing, as though they’d vanished into thin air. Five years had passed since the last girl, Gloria, had gone missing. She’d been so young and good-hearted, Fred sincerely hoped she’d merely run off and hadn’t
met some horrible demise. He’d been heartbroken to find her gone, and his father had cruelly taunted him about his infatuation with the girl.

  In truth, when Elsa Lindstrom arrived in town, Fred thought, for the briefest moment, Gloria had returned. Then he’d dared look into Elsa’s eyes and knew this was not a person he’d ever met. Shame filled him as he recalled comparing the virtuous, sweet baker to a harlot he’d once considered more than a friend.

  There wasn’t a man in all of Hardman who didn’t know about the lost girls from the Red Lantern. Husbands had worried about something happening to their wives and daughters. But when no more women disappeared after Gloria, everyone forgot about the worry. Then a girl came up missing three weeks ago. Panic arose as men feared what or who lurked in the shadows, intent on harming the women in town. Everyone would be relieved to know the girl had just run away from Montague. Fred couldn’t blame any of the women for escaping the Red Lantern. Cecil Montague was a cold-hearted, violent man.

  “Too bad I can’t place a notice in the paper to let everyone know.” Tom smirked at Fred as he set a stack of plates in the cupboard.

  Fred chuckled. “I dare you to do it. Your wife would box your ears right after your mother cracked your noggin if you did that.”

  “Don’t forget about the rest of the Granger women. Filly, Dora, and Ginny would all demand a turn, too.”

  “Most likely,” Fred agreed and handed Tom the last glass. He took a washrag from the sink and wiped off the counters then rinsed it out before drying his hands. “I really ought to get home.”

  “Sure you don’t want to stay awhile? We could play a round or two of Parcheesi.”

  Fred shook his head as he made his way down the hall with Tom. “I still haven’t recovered from the sound trouncing your wife delivered the last time we played that game.” He peeked into the parlor where Lila sat curled in a chair near the fireplace with a book on her lap. “Thank you for a wonderful meal, Lila. I appreciate the invitation.”

  Lila set aside the book and rose to her feet, coming to the doorway where Fred and Tom stood. “You know you’re welcome anytime, Fred. You don’t have to wait for an invitation.”

  He grinned and glanced at Tom. “I wouldn’t just show up unannounced. I might catch Tom sparking his girl and that would never do.”

  Lila blushed as Tom slipped an arm around her waist and winked at her. “He does have a point, Lila Lilac.”

  Fred thumped Tom on the shoulder then lifted his hat from the hall tree. “I’d make fun of that nickname if it didn’t suit you so well, Lila. You’re always like a fresh breath of springtime no matter the season.”

  “Well, thank you, kind sir, for that compliment.” Lila smiled. “And don’t be a stranger, Fred. We’ll see you Sunday at church, won’t we?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Lila and Tom walked with him out to the porch, gazing into the darkness of the evening. “Do you need to borrow a lantern, Fred?”

  “Nope. Festus and I can find our way home with our eyes closed,” Fred said, untying the reins and swinging into the saddle. He tipped his hat to Lila and turned the horse toward the street. “You two stay out of trouble.”

  “We could say the same to you,” Tom called after him.

  “Trouble? I’m never in trouble,” Fred retorted, wishing his statement proved to be true.

  Chapter Two

  Elsa Lindstrom tucked a stray lock of hair into the braid she’d just fashioned around the crown of her head and gave herself one last glance in the mirror.

  “I suppose that will have to do,” she said, then snatched a warm woolen shawl and her reticule off the bed where she’d tossed them a few minutes ago. She turned off the light and made her way down the hall and out the door.

  Ethan would no doubt be annoyed she’d beat him to the bakery, again, but he wasn’t one who enjoyed rolling out of bed in the wee morning hours. Rather than roust her brother from his warm bed, Elsa stepped outside with a spring in her step. She enjoyed the moments of quiet as she began her day by herself. The town of Hardman still slumbered as she strode down the silent street, making her way to the bakery she and Ethan owned.

  The two of them came from a long line of bakers. Her grandparents came to America from Sweden, seeking a better life. With a heart full of dreams and a head full of determination, they opened a bakery in Boston and turned it into a successful enterprise. Elsa’s parents took over the bakery when her grandparents decided to return to Sweden, claiming they wanted to spend their last years in the land of their birth.

  Elsa had missed them dearly, but understood their reasons for leaving. She was happy for them and her grandmother was good about keeping in touch with long, newsy letters.

  The family had barely gotten used to the idea of Elsa’s grandparents being gone when Ethan suggested purchasing a second bakery. He was the one who located the bakery for sale in Eastern Oregon in a town none of them had heard of before.

  Ethan and her father made the long journey to examine the bakery and the potential it offered for a growing business. Her brother returned with the deed and plans to head West again soon.

  Elsa and Ethan pooled their funds to pay for the bakery. As a parting gift to them, her parents had filled crates with the supplies they’d need to get started in the business. She and Ethan bid goodbye to their parents and older siblings before stepping onto the train and into a new adventure.

  Admittedly, Elsa loved adventures, loved trying new things. She supposed that was part of what made their bakery successful. Although she made standard items everyone enjoyed, she constantly tried new recipes. While Ethan could bake if he had to, Elsa loved it, lived for it. Since Ethan kept the books, stocked supplies, cleaned the bakery, and washed the mountain of dishes each day, the arrangement worked well for them both.

  Although Elsa missed her family, she was glad to have Ethan beside her. Her brother, born nine minutes ahead of her, tended to be protective of her, but Elsa didn’t mind. Not most of the time.

  In the year and a half since they’d moved to town, a few young men had been bold enough to ask to court her, but Ethan had glanced at her and refused. For now, Elsa wouldn’t complain. None of those potential suitors interested her anyway. At twenty-three, Elsa knew spinsterhood fast approached, but she didn’t care.

  She had a good life, one she took great pleasure in, and she didn’t feel the need to wed just to enrich it somehow. Marriage to a man solely for the sake of being married would most likely drain her well of inner joy.

  No, if Elsa ever decided to allow a man into her life, it would be because he stirred her to such passion, he filled her with such hope, that she couldn’t imagine life without him.

  A deep breath of crisp, autumn-scented air filled her lungs as she made her way down the street toward the bakery. As she walked, she thought of the young men in town. Ralph and Harold were nice, but they didn’t hold her interest. Tom Grove might have been of potential interest, but Lila Granger had caught his eye from the moment he returned to Hardman. Elsa grinned as she thought about how in love the couple seemed. Anyone with eyes in their head could see Tom doted on his wife and Lila adored her husband.

  Unbidden, a vision of Fred Decker popped into her head. Elsa considered the young man who seemed so alone in the world. Fred was always kind to her and one of her best customers. The sight of him stepping into the bakery never failed to bring a smile to her face and warmth to her heart.

  Her eagerness to see him couldn’t have anything to do with his wide shoulders or tall, muscular physique. Why, she’d barely made note of his eyes, glimmering bright blue like a cloudless summer sky. It certainly couldn’t be attributed to his thick, honey brown hair falling in short, tousled waves along his forehead.

  Effort was required to tease a grin out of him, but when she did, she experienced such a rush of excitement. Fred Decker possessed one of the most kissable sets of lips she’d ever seen on a man.

  Imagining what it would be like to kiss Fred,
to be wrapped in his strong arms, made her cheeks heat in the nippy morning breeze.

  Amused with herself and her silly notions where Fred Decker was concerned, she hastened her step. Unwilling to settle for anything less than the great and abiding love she saw in many of the couples in town, Elsa prayed she’d someday find the man who would love her completely. In the meantime, she’d focus on having the best bakery west of Boston.

  She didn’t need a man bringing distractions to her world. Not when she was content baking pastries and confections that satisfied the sweet tooth of Hardman’s residents.

  Elsa hurried down the alley and unlocked the back door to the bakery then closed and locked it behind her. When she and Ethan first arrived in Hardman, a few men made her uncomfortable, whispering about some woman named Gloria and leering at her. When a drunk cornered her one evening on her way home, Fred Decker happened to come to her rescue before the drunk could do much more than press a vile, slobbery kiss to her neck. At that moment, Fred had gone from being a polite acquaintance to her hero and champion.

  Fred had seen her home then taken Ethan aside and told him there used to be a harlot in town named Gloria. Elsa bore a striking resemblance to the woman. At first glance, some of the men who frequented the Red Lantern Saloon thought Gloria had returned to Hardman, attempting to pass herself off as respectable.

  Between Fred and Ethan making sure the men who might confuse her with Gloria knew she was not a woman of ill repute, Elsa had no more trouble with unwanted attention. But the near-attack from the drunk had frightened her enough she always locked the back door to the bakery when she was there alone.

  Elsa hung her shawl on a hook along with her reticule then slipped on a starched white apron. Thank goodness, a marvelous laundry existed in town because Elsa had no time for taking care of her clothes and Ethan would have ruined everything he attempted to wash and iron.

  A vision of her brother poised over an ironing board, trying to smooth the wrinkles from one of her petticoats made her laugh as she turned on the lights and added coal to the stove.