She considered staying and appealing the decision, but an unmarried woman such as herself had no chance of winning that battle.
Bethany leaned back in her chair and sipped the tea. It was sweet; just how she liked it. The cake was moist and full of flavor.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Nancy said quietly, watching her carefully. “How are you faring?”
“I’m fine,” she said with a meek smile. The truth was not what people wanted to hear when they asked that question, and Bethany had no intention of giving it to her. “I’m sure after a good night’s sleep I’ll be even better.” She continued to sip, and stared at her hostess over the rim of the cup. “The cake is good,” she said honestly. “Did you make it?”
“Oh my goodness, no,” Nancy told her. “I got it from the bakery in town.” She scowled then.
“Is something wrong, Miss Richter?”
“Oh, do call me Nancy, my dear.” She placed her mug on the table. “What’s wrong is the bakery may end up closing. The baker’s assistant recently married and left him. Now he has no one to help.” She stared at the orange cake on the fancy plate with the gold edging. “That would be an absolute tragedy.”
Bethany wriggled about on her chair, her eyes opened wide. Could it be true? She dared not believe it, but decided to ask anyway. “Is he looking for another assistant?” she asked quietly.
Nancy stared at her, then her mouth changed into a slow grin. “Oh my dear girl,” she said excitedly. “Can you bake?”
“I am a qualified baker, and I can cook,” Bethany answered. “My father owned a bakery back in Cedar Rapids.”
Nancy interrupted her. “Iowa? Oh my goodness, you’ve traveled a very long way!”
She continued as though the other woman hadn’t spoken. “When he died recently, the business went to my lazy…” She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, then let it out slowly. She stared down into her mug. “My brother owns it now.”
Nancy rubbed her hands together. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to Oscar Devlin. He will be as excited as I am.”
Somehow, Bethany wasn’t so sure.
~*~
Bethany tied her hair back, and placed her bonnet on her head. She looked down at her gown and shoes, and made certain she was presentable. First impressions were everything, and today they were even more important.
If she didn’t leave a good impression on Oscar Devlin, he wouldn’t give her the job. She ran her hands over her gown and straightened up. It was now or never. Nancy had been positively beaming at the news, but Bethany knew it was for selfish reasons. The woman wanted her fresh bakery goods supply to continue.
Bethany needed the job to survive.
Her heart was pounding at the prospect of having to prove herself to a complete stranger. It was something she’d never done before, and she moved quickly to the kitchen where she knew Nancy was waiting.
“Oooh, this is so exciting,” Nancy said, pulling her bonnet down over her head. “Let me look at you.” She walked around Bethany, checking her out. “Perfect,” she said. “Shall we go?”
It was the last thing Bethany wanted to do, but she really had no choice. Marshal Bancroft had paid for a week’s board in advance, brushing her objections aside. She’d told him she had money, but was embarrassed to admit it was very little. In the end she’d had no choice but to accept his gift. It seemed nothing to him, but to Bethany it was everything.
She would be sure to pay him back when she was able.
They strolled down the main street, Nancy pointing out the businesses as they passed them. “The mercantile is over the road, the butcher next door, and the bakery is a few doors further along.” She was the most animated Bethany had seen her. The woman was obviously very proud of her town. “There are a few empty stores, as you can see. It’s always a pity when a business closes down.”
They crossed the road to the bakery, and she got a far better look of the diner and the shoe shop. There was also a tailor, although that store was fairly small.
They stood outside the large space which was the bakery. She wanted to watch for a minute or two and get a feel for the place. “That’s Oscar,” Nancy told her, pointing to a middle-aged man wearing round spectacles. “He took over when his father died a few years ago.”
Bethany swallowed. She should have been doing the same thing. Joseph didn’t know the difference between a bread tin and a cake pan. Why would you let someone with absolutely no knowledge of the business take over? At the very least, she should have been made part owner. But Father was one for traditions, and tradition demanded only her brother take control of the bakery.
She grinned. How was that working out for him?
She immediately felt bad for her vicious thoughts, but knew they were well placed. Joseph had demanded she work for him with no remuneration, which left her with no other option. She had to flee.
“Are you alright, my dear?” Nancy touched her arm, and she came back to the present.
She nodded. “Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts.” They began to make their way into the bakery, but were stopped by a familiar figure.
“Good morning, ladies,” the marshal said, nodding, then went on his way before they had a chance to respond.
Nancy grinned. “He’s a fine figure of a man,” she said quietly. “If I was a few years younger, I’d pursue that young man.” She nudged Bethany. “He’d be perfect for you.”
“He’s arrogant,” Bethany snarled, then stopped herself. He’d been kind to her, and helped when no one else had. She tried to put the vision of her undergarments dangling in his hands to the back of her mind. “But he was very kind to me,” she had to admit.
“Of course. Our marshal is a lovely man. He’ll make some woman a wonderful husband some day.” She stared pointedly at Bethany.
“Shall we go in?” Understanding Nancy’s reference, she wanted to go inside and get this over and done with.
“Good morning, Mr Devlin. I would like to introduce Miss Bethany Lancaster to you.”
He glanced up, and adjusted his spectacles. “Nice to meet you Miss Lancaster.”
“Likewise.”
When nothing more was said, and Mr Devlin stood there expectantly, Nancy continued. “Miss Lancaster, Bethany, is a trained baker. I thought you might…”
He rubbed his hands together in glee. “Ah, thank you, Miss Richter. Do sit down Miss Lancaster, and we’ll have a chat, shall we?”
Elation was written all over his face, and Bethany felt sure the job would be hers.
~*~
Nancy had long left them, and Bethany was put right to work. “I’ve been struggling since Mary-Lou resigned,” Oscar Devlin said. “We’ll make this a trial, shall we,” he said with a smug look on his face. He knew very well she had no choice but to agree if she wanted a chance at the position he was offering.
“Tell me what you want me to bake, and I’ll do it,” she said, somewhat reluctantly. She wanted to work here, that was definite, but was he going to use her like her brother Joseph had tried to do?
“Shall we start with an orange cake?” He indicated a group of cupboards behind the counter and oven. “You’ll find all the ingredients and pans in there.”
Bethany stood and he reached for an apron, handing it to her. “Mary-Lou was the best baker I’ve ever had. Let’s see if you can get even close.”
She knew exactly what he was doing – he wanted to compare her baking with that of his former employee. It grated that he was doing that, but perhaps the man wanted to see how she performed under pressure. Well she would show him.
“My recipes are in there,” he said, indicating a drawer under the counter.
Bethany waved him away. Every recipe she’d ever used was stored in her memory. Between her and her father, they’d come up with some very unique formulas over the years. Joseph would be quite disappointed when he went looking for them. Serve him right for being such an…
Ladies did not think
that way, her mother’s voice in her head reminded her.
She pulled a large mixing bowl out of the cupboard, six rather battered cake tins, and all the dry ingredients she would need. The remaining ingredients could be found in the icebox, and she removed them, ready for use. Mr Devlin stood back and studied her as she worked – it was a little nerve-wracking, but something she had to endure.
The bell over the door tinkled, and Bethany glanced up. The marshal strolled toward her. “Got yourself some help, I see,” he said, acknowledging her but not addressing Bethany.
Mr Devlin scratched his head. “Perhaps. This is a trial.”
“A trial for a shop assistant?”
Oscar Devlin grinned. “Miss Lancaster is a fully fledged baker,” he said proudly, and her heart fluttered. Now all she had to do was pass the test.
She’d been there nearly two hours now and her cakes were cooked and cooled. While she waited, she familiarized herself with the layout of the bakery, and found where everything was stored. She made some pastry while she’d waited, and six apple pies were currently in the large oven. Her potential boss was impressed. At least she hoped he was.
Finally it was time to prove her cooking skills.
Bethany placed one of the cooled orange cakes onto a wooden board and sliced through it, cutting it into slices that could then be sold if Oscar Devlin so desired.
If her cakes met his expectations.
There was every possibility they did not, since her predecessor was apparently the best around these parts. She had to remember she was the unknown element in Alsburgh. Her reputation did not precede her like it had back home.
He sat at the small table where he’d interviewed her, a mug of coffee in front of him. He’d poured tea for her. Bethany took a restoring breath. This could be a defining moment for her. She carefully carried the slices over to the table on a white platter and placed it in front of the man who could decide her future. She then placed some small plates next to the platter.
He glanced up at her in anticipation. “Well, the moment of truth has arrived,” he said. “Mary-Lou made the best orange cake I’ve ever tasted. We’ll see if yours measures up.”
She placed a slice on the shiny white plate and waited. “For goodness sake,” he said, a little agitated. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.”
She quickly sat. The last thing Bethany needed was to make him nervous. She was nervous enough for the both of them.
She watched as he swallowed down a mouthful of coffee then lifted a slice of cake to his mouth. Her heart pounded. Suddenly the door to the bakery swung open.
“Is that orange cake ready yet?” It was the marshal again. And he was grinning. She’d forgotten Mr Devlin had invited him to come back for the taste test.
“Your coffee is on the counter.”
She watched as the marshal grabbed the mug of coffee then sat down. The suspense was killing her; every moment delayed gave her cause for concern. She wanted to know if she had the job. Needed to know. If not, she would have to canvas the other business owners in town.
Each man lifted her orange cake to their mouths. Time seemed to go slowly as she watched them. She was terrified at that moment, and didn’t dare try the cake herself in case she was left disappointed.
They each took a bite. She watched as they closed their mouths and simply allowed the flavor to flood their senses. Every moment that followed seemed like a lifetime. They said not one word, and it bothered her. Worried her.
She snatched up a slice of the citrus cake – she couldn’t wait any longer. Bethany needed to know for herself. She shoved the cake in her mouth. Very unladylike she was certain, but she could wait no longer.
It was bliss. Easily the best batch she’d ever made.
She smiled. She couldn’t help herself. Then saw the grin appear, first on Oscar Devlin’s face, then that of the marshal. They both snatched up another slice.
She let out a long breath in relief.
“Wonderful! Even better than Mary-Lou.” Oscar Devlin smiled at her.
The marshal grinned. “I have to agree. This is… words can’t explain it,” he finally said.
“The job is yours. When can you start?” Oscar Devlin asked.
“I thought I already had,” she replied with a smile.
Chapter Three
It had been a long hard day. It felt like Oscar Devlin had worked her into the ground. The truth was, Bethany was still trying to recover from her long journey, and then her dreadful experience with the stagecoach robbers.
Not having an assistant had been difficult for Oscar Devlin. He was relieved to have finally found someone he could trust to uphold the quality, he told her. Her father had never had that problem with it being a family business. She wondered how Joseph was faring. With few qualified bakers in the area, she was certain he’d be selling up soon.
Serve him right for treating her so shabbily.
When she thought her day was about to get easier, Deputy Simpson entered the store. “We have one for tonight thanks, Oscar.” He was gone as quickly as he’d arrived.
She frowned. What on earth was he talking about. She was about to ask when her silent question was answered.
“That’s one prisoner we need to provide for,” Mr Devlin said. “We provide the marshal with a meal too. He doesn’t look after himself as well as he should.” He scratched his head. “Goodness knows why – a lot of people rely on him.”
He reached into the ice box. “Steak for the marshal, sausages for the prisoner,” he said as he grinned. “Start preparing enough vegetables for two please, Bethany.”
Between them they had an appetizing meal ready in no time. The two meals were added to a tray, and two buttered rolls added. Mr Devlin added a slice of Bethany’s apple pie for the marshal, then placed a cotton kitchen towel over the tray.
“Can you manage that?” he asked her, indicating the filled tray.
Bethany lifted the tray. She’d carried far heavier in her father’s bakery. This was nothing compared to the twenty-pound bags of flour she’d often moved from the storage room to the bakery. “I’m sure I can manage,” she said.
Mr Devlin opened the door for her, and pointed in the direction of the Marshal’s Office. She headed straight there. Now if only she could get through the door at the other end.
On arriving at the Marshal’s Office, Bethany could see she was in trouble. The tray was big and cumbersome. If she let go of the tray to open the door, it would topple sideways, but if she didn’t, the food would be cold. The only option she had was to put the tray on the ground, open the door, then pick it up again.
She was about to do so when the door suddenly opened. Marshal Hunter Bancroft stood in front of her, staring down into her face. She couldn’t help but stare up into his sparkling blue eyes. “Well, hello there,” he said, and her heart fluttered. “Let me take that from you.”
Why was it that men always thought of women as helpless? Okay, so she was totally at the mercy of others when she was pinned under dear Mr Carpenter, but that wasn’t the defining moment of her life.
Before she had a chance to be further annoyed, the tray was whisked out of her hands. Skin met skin, and she felt like she might swoon. He glanced at her. Then stared. Had he felt it too?
Don’t be so ridiculous, she admonished herself. He was simply waiting for her to say something. “Thank you so much, Marshal,” she said. “That tray was incredibly heavy.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm in her voice.
He continued to stare, then his mouth suddenly formed a grin. “I think I like you,” he said, taking the tray across to a table in the corner of the jailhouse.
He pulled the kitchen towel off the food and stared. “Is this one of your pies?” He lifted the plate and brought it to his face, then breathed deeply, glancing sideways at her. “It smells delicious.”
“It certainly is one of mine,” she said. “Well, enjoy your meal. I’ll be back later for the soiled dishes, I guess.”
&
nbsp; “The routine is that I bring them back when we’re done. So I’ll see you soon.” He headed toward the cell with the prisoner’s meal. That appeared to be her cue to leave.
~*~
Hunter leaned back in his chair. His belly was full, and for some reason he felt more content than he had for some time.
It wasn’t the meal, Oscar had been feeding him similarly for as long as he could remember. But that pie… it was a totally different story.
Mary-Lou had been one of the best bakers the town had managed to have the good luck to find. If she hadn’t married and moved away, she’d still be there. But then he would never have tasted the delicacies from Miss Bethany Lancaster. She was a bit of a firecracker, that one.
He wasn’t sure if she intrigued him or annoyed him. One thing was sure, she set his heart on fire. He scratched the back of his neck. He’d got her hackles up when he’d thrown water on her back at the site of the robbery. He had to do it, there was no other way to revive her. Was there?
He shook his head. He was sure there wasn’t.
That immediately put him on the backburner. She’d taken an immediate dislike to him. Not that he was enamored by her. Then there was that incident with her unmentionables. He had to admit he was being totally disagreeable by then. The poor woman had lost most of her luggage. Rather than taunt her, he should have been helping her in any way he could. Hopefully he’d made up for it by securing accommodation for her.
He stretched his long legs and yawned. It was time to return the tray of soiled dishes. He wasn’t opposed to seeing Miss Lancaster again, even if she did tend to stir him up. He hadn’t met a woman yet who could manage the weight she’d carried on that tray.
He scratched the back of his neck again. And yet… she didn’t appear to be struggling. Hunter gathered up the plates and cutlery and placed them on the tray. The memory of that apple pie was foremost on his mind right now.
Rescuing the Lawman Page 2