Sweet-Talking Cowbear - Liv Brywood

1

Amber shoved her oven mitts on and raced to save a tray of gingerbread men from burning. She’d spent the last three hours in her bakery, frantically trying to fill Christmas orders before the courier arrived. It was going to be close, but once the cookies cooled, she’d be able to complete the last gift basket. The thirty-basket order wasn’t unusual, but she’d been short-staffed since her employee had quit to move back home.

“I can do this,” she murmured. “I’m the cookie master.”

She sure didn’t feel like the master of anything, but with orders piled high, she had to get them filled. There were only fifteen more days until Christmas. She would get everything done, even if it meant riding a sugar high the entire time. She just had to focus.

An hour later, the gingerbread men were cool enough to add to the baskets. Before adding the final treat, she repositioned the snowmen and reindeer cookies she’d baked earlier in the day. As she wrapped the variety basket, the sound of crinkling cellophane filled the cinnamon and clove-scented air.

If she hadn’t been in such a rush, she would have slowed down to second guess the look of every basket, but there wasn’t any time. She never seemed to have enough time to get anything done these days. She seriously needed another employee, but who could she find this close to Christmas?

The bell on the bakery’s front door jingled. She wiped her hands on her Santa Claus apron and walked into the restaurant section of the bakery. A woman in her late twenties with black hair and ghostly pale skin stood just inside the door next to the coat rack. Her blue eyes darted from Amber to the “Employee Wanted” sign in the window before dropping to study the floor.

“I heard you were looking for a worker. Do you have a job application form?” she whispered so softly Amber had to strain to hear.

“Yes, I’m still looking.” Amber pulled a paper application out from under the counter. “Here you go.”

As she held it out, the woman took a tentative step closer. “I don’t really have much experience with baking, but I’m smart. I’m a quick learner.”

“Go ahead and fill it out. I can’t look at it right away, but I’ll get back to you within a day or so.” Amber handed her a pen. A buzzer went off in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

She hurried into the kitchen to pull a batch of peanut butter blossoms out of the oven. If she didn’t get the chocolate kisses pressed in fast enough, the cookies wouldn’t set correctly.

After tearing open a bag of the chocolates, she pressed one into the center of each cookie. Granulated sugar sparkled like snow across the perfectly baked dough. This time she did take a second to admire them. It was her favorite holiday cookie. She could remember making them with her mother when she was a child. Sure, decorating sugar cookies was fun too, but these always held a special place in her heart.

The bell jingled, and the sound of the door closing drew her back to the front counter. The application lay on the white Formica. She glanced at it and frowned. The phone number section was blank.

She ran outside, only to be blinded by the dazzling December sun. Shading her eyes with her hand, she spotted the woman getting into a beat-up Ford truck, circa the 1980s. Brown paint peeled around the edges. A bungee cord kept the bumper from falling off. Barely. And the vehicle coughed and sputtered as the woman turned the ignition.

“Wait!”

Amber knocked on the window. The woman jumped before rolling down the glass. Her eyes were wide, like a startled deer who’d spotted a hunter.

“You didn’t leave your number.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t have one yet.” Pink splotches colored her cheeks. “But I can come back tomorrow if that’s okay. I might have a number by then.”

“Don’t you have a cell phone?” Amber asked. She glanced at the application again. Her name was Raven.

“Mine… I, uh, left it at a truck stop by accident. I’m getting a new one tomorrow.” Raven hung her head, and several locks of black hair fell across her eyes.

“Okay. Come by tomorrow. I just need to call to check references.”

“Some of those companies went out of business. You might not be able to reach anyone.”

“As long as I can get ahold of someone, it should be fine.” Amber hated admitting her desperation, but she really needed help.

“Thanks.”