by Joanne Fluke
It was time to bake and Hannah smiled as she placed the cookies on the revolving racks inside the oven. The cookies needed to bake for ten to twelves minutes, so she set the timer for ten minutes. When the bell on the timer rang, she’d look through the glass on the oven door to see if the cookies had browned enough. When they were golden brown, she’d take them from the oven, slip the cookie sheets onto shelves in the bakers rack, and wait for them to cool. That shouldn’t take long since the shelves were similar to wire racks, and air would circulate around each cookie.
Hannah went back to the workstation to gather her baking utensils and mixing bowls. She carried them to the sink, intending to wash them by hand, but she realized that they didn’t have to be cleaned immediately. She simply rinsed them out in the sink and placed them in the industrial dishwasher. Once Lisa and Michelle figured out how to work it, they could wash her baking utensils and mixing bowls. It was a perfect way to test the dishwasher to make certain that it operated well.
As she walked past the oven, Hannah glanced at the timer. She still had five minutes to go, so she went back to her chair at the workstation and opened the instruction manual for the industrial mixer. As she read the instructions, she felt a sense of relief. Although it was four times larger than her mother’s stand mixer and could mix up enough cookie dough to fill all the racks in the industrial oven at once, it operated exactly the same.
The timer sounded and Hannah jumped up from her chair to see if her cookies were done. She looked through the door, saw that they were a nice golden brown, and removed all the cookie sheets to place them on separate shelves on the bakers rack. The cookies would need to cool for at least ten minutes before she could taste one to see how successful she’d been. She went back to her chair at the workstation and sat there, wishing that she had brought coffee to go with her cookies.
The solution to the coffee problem popped into her mind and she rushed to put on her coat. Hal and Rose’s café was only a short distance away. She could hurry down there, get a to-go cup of coffee, and be back here by the time her cookies were cool enough to test.
A scant three minutes later, when she opened the door to the café, Hannah breathed in the scent of burgers grilling, onion rings browning in the deep fryer, and roast beef roasting in the oven. She was tempted to take one of Rose’s excellent burgers back to the bakery with her, but she reminded herself that her mother was taking them out to the Corner Tavern to have Double-double hamburgers in less than three hours’ time. Hannah ordered coffee from Luanne Hanks, one of Rose’s best waitresses, and hurried back to the bakery with her takeout coffee.
Once she’d returned her parka to the rack of hooks by the back kitchen door, Hannah walked over to touch one of the cookies on the bakers rack. It was still slightly warm, and that was the perfect eating temperature for a freshly baked cookie. She chose two cookies and carried them over to the workstation to taste them.
The first taste was wonderful and Hannah gave a little sigh of satisfaction. Her recipe had worked perfectly. She ate her cookie slowly, taking time to savor the flavors, and then she bit into the chocolate star on the top of the cookie. “Great combination,” she said aloud.
“What’s a great combination?” a familiar voice asked from the main room, followed by a second familiar voice that added, “And what smells so good?”
“Cashew Butter Blossoms,” Hannah told Lisa and Michelle as they came into the kitchen. “They’re the first batch of cookies I baked and I just tasted them. I bought two little cartons of milk at the Red Owl this morning and you can get them out of the walk-in cooler. I have straws, too.”
“You got the walk-in cooler working?” Michelle asked her.
“Yes, and it was easy. All I had to do was turn it on. The oven’s more complicated, but I followed the instructions in the manual and it works perfectly.”
“And it’s calibrated right?” Lisa asked.
“Perfectly,” Hannah answered, impressed by Lisa’s question. Lisa’s mother was a very good baker and she’d taught her daughter well.
“I’ll get the milk,” Lisa said. “I want to take a look at the walk-in cooler. I’ve never seen one of those before.”
“Okay,” Michelle agreed. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll get us a couple of cookies and bring us two chairs from the coffee shop.”
Hannah noticed that Michelle had already called the main room a coffee shop and she gave a little smile. It was obvious that Michelle had confidence that Hannah’s new business would succeed.
“We’ll have to look for stools that are tall enough to fit here,” Michelle remarked as she carried in the first chair. “Mother told me that this was the workstation and it was taller than the tables in the coffee shop. We talked about bar stools, but I think they’d be too tall. We should probably ask Hank down at the Municipal Liquor Store if we could bring one of his bar stools here to try it out and see if it works.”
“Good idea,” Hannah told her. And then she marveled at how sisters, raised by the same parents, could have such different personalities. Andrea was an artistic perfectionist, two characteristics that usually didn’t go together. Michelle was a realist who was practical and also creative. And she was . . . Hannah paused, thinking about it for a moment. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was. She was certainly gullible when it came to love, since she had believed that Bradford Ramsey was going to marry her.
“The cooler’s just wonderful, Hannah!” Lisa plunked the cartons of milk down on the stainless-steel surface of the workstation, effectively interrupting Hannah’s thoughts. “You can mix up all the cookie dough you need for the next day’s baking and let it chill in there overnight. Then all you have to do in the morning is take it out, let it warm up a little, and bake it.”
“That’s right,” Hannah said with a nod. It was obvious that Lisa was also practical. “Here comes Michelle with the second chair and a plate of cookies. Let’s taste them. I need to know what you think of them and please don’t be afraid to tell me if you don’t like them. I can always correct anything that doesn’t work.”
“They smell delicious, but I already told you that when I came in,” Lisa said. “And they look great, too.”
Michelle sat down in the chair she’d just brought and reached for a cookie. “Lisa and I skipped lunch because they were having grilled cheese and they always make them so far ahead of time, they’re cold. Now I’m really hungry and I’m dragging. This cookie should fix me up just fine.”
“Two at the most,” Hannah warned her. “We’re going out to the Corner Tavern with Mother tonight and we should save ourselves for their Double-doubles.”
“And their French fries,” Lisa added.
Michelle laughed. “And their onion rings,” she said.
“Okay. Let’s taste,” Hannah told them, reaching for her cookie.
All three of them bit into their cookies at the same time. For a moment, there was silence and then Lisa exclaimed, “Oh, boy!”
“Oh, boy is right,” Michelle agreed. “These are every bit as good as your Cocoa-Crunch Cookies.”
“I love the taste of cashews with chocolate,” Lisa commented.
“So does Mother,” Hannah told her. “She even mixes her can of salted cashews with chocolate chips so she can eat them together.”
“I’ll have to try that!” Michelle said, taking another huge bite of her cookie. “Mother knows her snacks.”
“Really?” Lisa looked surprised. “But she’s so thin.”
“She’s usually a little heavier,” Hannah explained, “but she’s always watched her weight. And the way she’s been eating lately, she’ll get back to her ideal weight in record time.”
“Especially if you keep on baking these,” Michelle told Hannah, and then she turned to Lisa. “Mother’s going to practically inhale these cookies while Hannah reads to us tonight. You’ll see.”
CASHEW BUTTER BLOSSOM COOKIES
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle positio
n.
2 cups white (granulated) sugar
1 cup salted butter (2 sticks) softened
½ cup cashew butter
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
cup (2 Tablespoons) molasses (I used Grandma’s Molasses)
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup finely chopped salted cashews
2 large eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)
4 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
13-ounce bag Hershey’s Kisses (or milk chocolate stars)
Prepare your cookie sheets by spraying them with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray or lining them with parchment paper.
Hannah’s 1st Note: This recipe is easiest to make if you use an electric mixer to prepare this dough.
Place the white sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer.
Add the softened butter and mix on LOW until it’s well blended, then beat on MEDIUM speed until the mixture is light and fluffy.
Mix in the half-cup of cashew butter and beat on MEDIUM speed until it is well incorporated.
Hannah’s 2nd Note: Cashew butter is easier to measure if you spray the inside of the measuring cup with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray and also spray the blade of your rubber spatula. Pack the cashew butter down in the cup and level it off with the prepared spatula. The cooking spray makes it easier to get all the cashew butter out of your measuring cup. You can also use this pre-sprayed cup to measure the molasses.
Mix in the vanilla extract and the molasses. Beat until they are well incorporated.
With the mixer running on LOW speed, sprinkle in the baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Mix well.
Add the finely chopped cashews to the bowl and mix them in on LOW.
Add the beaten eggs and mix those in thoroughly.
Mix in the all-purpose flour in half-cup increments, mixing after each addition.
Hannah’s 3rd Note: If you mix in your 4 cups of flour all at once, you may find it spews out of the bowl when you turn on your mixer and you end up with flour all over your kitchen floor!
Mix until all your ingredients are thoroughly blended and then shut off your mixer and scrape down the bowl.
Take the bowl out of the mixer. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with your rubber spatula and give your Cashew Butter Blossom Cookie dough a final stir by hand.
Let the dough firm up for a few minutes on your kitchen counter as you sit down and enjoy a couple of the Hershey’s Kisses or chocolate stars.
Form the dough into walnut-sized balls and arrange them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard-size sheet.
Press the Hershey’s Kisses or chocolate stars, point up, into the middle of your cookie balls, flat side down. They’ll look like flowers or blossoms after they’re baked and that’s why they’re called Cashew Butter Blossom Cookies.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the edges are just beginning to turn golden. (Don’t worry—The chocolate won’t melt in that length of time.)
Cool your cookies on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes and then remove them to wire racks to finish cooling.
Hannah’s 4th Note: If you used parchment paper on your cookie sheets, just pull it off the cookie sheet, cookies and all, and onto a wire rack. The cookies can cool right on the paper.
Yield: Makes approximately 8 dozen delicious cookies, depending on the size of the cookie dough balls. You can cut this recipe in half, but if you do, use ½ teaspoon of baking soda and ½ teaspoon of baking powder.
Hannah’s 5th Note: If you have any chocolate stars or Hershey’s Kisses left over, the baker deserves another treat!
Chapter Thirteen
The words she had feared were there on the front page of the newspaper she’d bought at their last stop. Her cousin was in jail, along with several of the men he called his employees. They’d arrested him shortly after they’d received the package of double books she’d mailed in New York. And Lenny, his right-hand man, was there too, on a murder charge.
She turned the pages of the paper to find the rest of the story. One of her cousin’s men had broken down during police interrogation and had exposed his whole illegal racket. The authorities had charged Lenny in several murders, and the paper called Lenny a “hit man” for the mob. The federal prosecutor had assured the reporter that Lenny would be behind bars for the rest of his life, that this time they had him dead to rights, burying a body in the backyard of his aunt’s house in Brooklyn.
She gave a soft little cry as she read the name of Lenny’s most recent victim, but there were no fellow passengers near enough to hear her. The train was still boarding and the club car would not open for them until all the baggage had been loaded and the conductor had walked through the cars to check everyone’s ticket.
Tony was dead! Her husband was dead! She felt faint and the club car began to dim in front of her eyes. The couches, and tables, and chairs began to revolve around her until everything was spinning out of control and she could see bright, sparkling lights blinding and twirling at the edges of her vision. They twirled toward the center, creating a wave of dizzy heat in her mind, and then everything faded into oblivion.
* * *
She could see light behind her eyelids and she let them open slightly. She must have dozed off for a moment because everything seemed to be happening in a dream. There was a newspaper on the floor near her feet and she wondered about that for a moment. Was the newspaper hers? Had she dropped it when she’d fallen asleep? Or was the newspaper a part of the dream that she was still experiencing. She was struggling to find an answer to those questions when a man spoke to her.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Is this your newspaper?”
She startled awake and her eyelids flew open. “Oh! Yes, it’s mine. I must have fallen asleep.”
The man smiled and she realized that she liked his face. He was older, perhaps the age of her grandfather, and he looked both kind and concerned.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she replied quickly, taking the newspaper he held out to her. “I couldn’t seem to sleep last night and I must have dozed off.”
He smiled at her and it made her feel as if he were actually interested in what she’d said. “It’s not always easy to sleep on a train,” he told her. “That’s why I always book a compartment when I go to visit my sister. To tell you the truth,” he said, leaning down a bit closer to her, “it doesn’t always help. I was in here last night and I almost came over to talk to you then, to ask if I could order some cocoa or hot milk for you.”
“I wasn’t . . . talking in my sleep, was I?” she asked him, suddenly afraid she’d said something strange. She knew that she talked in her sleep. Her family had told her about that. What if she’d mentioned how desperate she was to escape what had happened in New York? And what if she’d mentioned how worried she was about her husband’s safety?
“No, you didn’t say a thing,” he reassured her. “But you were restless and I was concerned for you.”
“Thank you!” She felt like crying with relief, or perhaps it was simply because a perfect stranger had been kind enough to be so concerned.
“Would you like some cocoa now?” he asked her. “I’d be happy to ring for the porter.”
“Thank you very much, but I’m fine. I had coffee with my breakfast.”
“I noticed. I saw you in the dining car and I had to refrain myself from ordering something more nourishing for you, especially in your condition.”
He knew! She felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. Did everyone who’d come into the club car know that she was expecting a baby? She pulled her oversize raincoat a bit closer around her and wondered if she could pretend that she hadn’t understood the meaning behind his words.
“How long will it be now?” he asked her.
“Ten to twelve weeks,” she answered honestly. Since he knew, t
here was no reason not to tell him.
“Is that what your doctor told you?” he asked, sitting down in the chair across from her. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”
“I . . . no. I don’t mind at all,” she answered, feeling a small jolt of surprise because she truly wanted him to continue to talk to her. “Yes, that’s what my doctor told me the last time I saw him.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Almost two months ago. I . . . I couldn’t keep my last appointment with him.”
“Because you were traveling?”
“Not exactly. It was because I was . . . preparing to travel, and I . . . just couldn’t go to his office.”
“I see.” He smiled at her and again, it was a kind smile, a caring smile. “Your doctor was wrong,” he said.
“How . . . do you know?”
“Because I’m a doctor and I’ve delivered hundreds of babies. You’re only a week or so away from having your baby now.”
“Are you . . . you’re certain?”
“I’m wise enough to know that a doctor can never be certain. Babies arrive when they’re ready and that may or may not be on our timetable. Still, I believe I’m right when I say it will happen within a week, but not much longer than that.”
“But . . . that can’t be right! I have to find a place to live. And I have to wait until . . .” She stopped speaking, as she remembered the words she’d read. Then tears filled her eyes and she wished that she’d stayed with Tony, that they’d been together even in death. But there was the baby, Tony’s baby, to think of. She took a deep breath and attempted to quell her panic and look much calmer than she felt.