“Oh, that would be just lovely. Where do I sign up?”
“Right over there by the register. Why don’t you go do that and I’ll check on your basket for you? Did you want it now or closer to Christmas? Because I can hold the basket and send the package later if you prefer. That way the cookies will be fresh.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’d like to do. If I send it now, Heidi will eat every single one of those cookies before Christmas week.”
As Rachel walked over to the window, she was wondering how Mama Bear would handle customers like Evelyn. If they opened a corporate store on the square—and that was a big if; nothing was guaranteed; they’d made that abundantly clear because they mostly sold online and placed shops in areas that catered to larger, more touristy populations than Whiskey River—there was a chance the clerks wouldn’t remember Evelyn and her granddaughter Heidi.
She climbed into the window and was reaching for the basket on the far side of the display when she felt someone watching her. She glanced through the window and saw a beautiful, petite blonde woman with the largest blue eyes she’d ever seen, smiling up at her. Rachel racked her brain trying to place the woman. The woman looked to be in her early twenties and she was dressed in what looked like 1920s-era ensemble with a cloche hat pulled down over her blonde curls. The hat drew attention to her striking eyes. She looked so familiar, but Rachel couldn’t quite place her.
She was probably part of the Victorian Christmas tree maze in the park that was sponsored by Harwood House. Rachel took her eyes off the woman to concentrate on unhooking the basket from the display. By the time she looked back, the woman was gone.
But why would she be wearing a twenties-era dress for a Victorian Christmas tree maze?
Who knew. Maybe she wasn’t part of it after all. Floats, Boats, and Whiskey Barrels drew people from all over the place. Maybe this woman just had her own sense of style.
But that still didn’t satisfy the feeling that she knew her from somewhere. It would probably come to her if she quit thinking about it so hard.
She was on her way to the wrap stand with the basket when a breeze blew the shop door open with a loud bang, scaring the handful of customers that were inside.
Rachel went over to close the door and the blonde woman walked up from seemingly out of nowhere, startling her.
“Hello,” the woman said in a soft sweet voice. “This is for you.”
She handed Rachel an envelope with her name written in fancy script on the outside. By the time Rachel looked up, the woman was gone. But the scent of lavender hung in the air.
Suddenly she remembered where she knew her from. She looked exactly like the woman she’d imagined as Felicity in the dream she’d had the night after the ball.
Was this a trick? Another dream?
The envelope in her hand felt solid and real.
She set down Evelyn’s basket so she could open the envelope. She slid her index finger under the sealed flap and pulled out a plain white folded linen card. It read:
Remember what Tennyson said, ’tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
*
The next morning, Rachel called Becky Harwood, owner of Harwood House, and asked if they could meet. She said that she had an idea for a joint marketing effort involving Becky offering her cookies to the guests of the inn. Plus, she added, she wanted to ask Becky some questions about the history of the inn.
Becky invited Rachel to Harwood House for mid-morning tea. After dropping Katie at preschool, she went, cookies and card from Felicity in hand, to meet her.
The property had been in the Harwood family since the eighteen-seventies. “The main house wasn’t built until around nineteen hundred,” said Becky—a small, wiry lady who looked to be in her early to mid-fifties—as she gave Rachel a cursory tour of the lower level. “They turned the turned the place into a bed and breakfast around the Christmas of nineteen-nineteen.”
She led Rachel into the parlor, where she had set up a silver tea service and a plate of scones. “Let me go get your cookies. I’m dying to try them. I don’t know why I haven’t gotten into your shop, other than it’s a good half hour drive into town.”
Even before she poured the tea, she plucked a shortbread cookie out of the box and tasted it.
Dabbing the corners of her mouth, she said, “Ooh, these are simply delicious. I can see that I need to get out more and come visit your shop. I don’t even need to talk to Boone about it. We would love to carry them here at the inn. It will be a special treat for our guests. Did you say you had something else you wanted to talk about?”
Rachel’s cheeks warmed at the prospect of bringing up Felicity. Suddenly the spiel she’d rehearsed went out of her head. How did one ask if an inn was haunted? What if she offended Becky? Although, the woman was no shrinking violet. Ha! How did she feel about lavender?
Lavender!
That was it.
Rachel cleared her throat. “I feel kind of silly asking this, but does Harwood House have a legend surrounding lavender or the scent of lavender?”
Rachel braced herself for the possibility of Becky shutting her down or denying it. But much to her surprise, Becky laughed.
“Oh! Are you asking about Felicity?”
Rachel nearly dropped her teacup. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Becky nodded. “It’s that time of year, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.
“Well, legend has it that our beloved Felicity appears during the Christmas season with a mission to bring worthy, if not star-crossed lovers together. She sort of gives them a nudge in the right direction. There have been reports of people smelling lavender when they’re about to meet their soul mate, and other more out of the ordinary things have been known to happen.”
“Like causing a freak ice storm and making cars stall so that you’re at the mercy of others?”
Becky’s brows shot up. “Sounds to me like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
“It may have happened to a friend,” Rachel said.
“Oh, I see.” Becky took another bite of cookie and washed it down with a sip of tea. “Well, you tell your friend that she’s not alone. I credit Felicity for bringing my Boone and me together. He may not think it happened that way, but I know the truth.”
“So, your husband doesn’t believe in the legend?”
Becky shook her head. “Let’s just say that the family downplayed it because they were afraid talk of a ghost would be bad for business.”
“Have you ever heard stories of Felicity appearing outside of Harwood House?”
“Appearing?” Becky’s hand flew up to her neck. “Oh, heavens no. I’ve never heard of anyone seeing her.”
“I think I did,” Rachel said. She took the note out of her purse and handed it to Becky.
Her hostess frowned as she accepted the note. “What’s this?”
“It’s a note that I believe Felicity gave me last night.”
Becky opened the card and read the Tennyson quote aloud. “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”
She nodded. “That’s true. I do believe that.”
“But do you believe Felicity could’ve been the one who delivered the note?”
She told Becky the story of how she saw Felicity as she was getting the basket out of the window of her shop and how, a moment later a sudden gust of wind blew open the door and the same woman handed her the card and said, “‘This is for you, Rachel.’ She knew my name. And there was the scent of lavender. So, unless someone went to a lot of trouble to pull off a very elaborate practical joke, I think Felicity visited me.”
“I’m not at all surprised to hear that Felicity is out working her magic. It’s not every year we have a storm like we had the other night. In fact, I don’t remember one this early in all the years I’ve been married to Boone and living here. Although, my husband just said the other day that there was a bad storm when
he was a kid and it had happened during Felicity’s Ball that year, too.”
She lifted both hands, palms up, in a shoulder shrug.
“However, her venturing outside of Harwood House is out of the ordinary,” Becky said, “but I’m not saying it couldn’t happen. Out of curiosity, what did she look like?”
As Rachel described her, Becky nodded. “That sounds like our Felicity.” Becky pushed to her feet. “Stay right here. Let me go get something.”
She returned a moment later with a framed photo and handed it to Rachel.
“Is this the woman who gave you the note?”
Rachel’s heart leapt into her throat when she saw a face identical to the one she’d seen last night gazing back at her. Same curly blonde hair; same kind, big eyes; same sweet smile.
“I definitely saw a ghost.”
Chapter Nine
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Savannah said as she unpacked another box of giant sugar cookie stars and set them on the plate. Rachel’s friends had been fabulous to spend their Saturday morning helping her with her fourth annual Cookies in the Park event, Savannah arriving first thing and Avery a little later. She’d started the event the first year she’d opened the shop as a way to drum up business and it had become such a crowd favorite, growing larger and better attended every year, that she needed more help handing out cookies and keeping the decorating stations stocked.
“I think I believe in them,” said Avery. “I love the idea of a ghost who brings couples together.”
“Oh?” Savannah asked. “Is she working her magic for you and Logan?”
“Are you kidding me?” She rolled her eyes. “Logan could have any woman he wanted. I’m so not setting myself up for that heartbreak. But changing the subject back to the ghost: think about it, Scotland has the Loch Ness monster. The Himalayan Mountains have the Yeti, and Whiskey River has a lavender-farting ghost who delivers poetry.”
The three friends laughed. Leave it to Avery and her smart mouth to bring the humor.
“You two are crazy,” Rachel said. “Even Becky Harwood said she thinks Felicity visited me.”
“The question is,” said Savannah, “is her magic working on you and Eli?”
“Maybe she’s having an off year,” Rachel said. “I just don’t see how things could ever work out. It’s just too difficult juggling a child, a business, and a new relationship.”
“Are you still considering opening the winery restaurant?” Avery asked. “And please tell me you’re still on board to cater the party on the twenty-third.”
“Of course, I’m still catering the party. I’d never leave you in the lurch at this late date. The winery restaurant, however, is another matter. But please don’t say anything to Logan and Eli. I haven’t figured it out.”
While Savannah was handing out cookies to a family with four kids, Avery said, “You might want to talk to the guys because Logan was talking about flying you and Eli out to California on his jet to visit the vineyards and restaurants out there. He was saying he will ensure that they give you the grand tour and the royal treatment. He’s already been in touch with Francis Ford Coppola Winery setting up your visit.”
Rachel could hear the blood rushing in her ears. “No! How can he be making plans for me when he hasn’t even talked to me about it?”
Avery put her hand over her mouth. “Oops. I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t be mad, Rach. I’m sure you can work it out and work around your schedule. He hasn’t confirmed a date.”
“See, but that’s the thing. I don’t even know if I want to do this. All of a sudden, I’m feeling completely overwhelmed with everything.”
“You’ve had a lot on your plate,” Avery said. “First, you were on the committee for the ball and you catered the event on the spur of the moment. You’re just coming off of Christmas on the Square and now there’s Cookies in the Park. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
And there was Eli and the constant push-pull she felt going on inside her when she tried to figure out what to do with her feelings for him.
“And there’s the potential sale of my business to Mama Bear and now this trip to California that Logan wants me to take. The worst part of it all is, I feel like I’ve been shuffling Katie around and she’s been getting the short end of the stick during what’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.”
Rachel felt the tears welling in her eyes. “I just don’t know if I can do all this. I feel like I’m becoming my mother. I have the best of intentions, but you know what they say about that: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
Avery sighed. “I’m kicking myself. I never should’ve brought up the California trip. Not right now, anyway. I should’ve let Eli do it.”
“What, so that he could blindside me with it? I’m glad you told me. At least it won’t be a surprise and I can be prepared.”
“Excuse me, lady,” said a boy who looked to be about five. “Do you have any more red icing? We’re all out over there.”
“Today is your lucky day,” Rachel said. “I just happen to have a couple of fresh cans right here. Will you take them over to the table for me, please?”
The kid nodded and ran off with one can in each hand. Rachel watched him run away and realized that this was what she loved the most about her job. She may not get rich through Cookies and S’more(s) but it brought her a lot of satisfaction that money couldn’t buy.
She turned back to Avery. “This is what I love doing. I don’t want to be stressed by it. I don’t want other things to make it a burden and I don’t want Katie to feel second best. They might say that they understand that my daughter comes first, but when the rubber meets the road, there are certain things they are going to need from me, certain things that need to be done so that the winery and restaurant are successful. I don’t want to stand around whining and moaning about things that are just part of the job. And that makes me wonder if maybe I’m not the person for the winery restaurant. But please don’t say anything to Logan. I need to talk to Eli about it first.”
She needed to talk to Eli about a lot of things. The knot in her stomach tightened. And even through the frustration, she felt a longing for things to somehow be right with him. But she had no idea how she would ever get from point A to point B so that could happen.
Ten minutes later, after Rachel had finished replenishing the sprinkles and white and green icing canisters on the six rectangular tables that served as the decorating stations, her cell phone rang. She was surprised to see Johnny Gamble’s name on her phone’s screen—the attorney she’d hired to negotiate the Mama Bear Cookie deal.
“I need to step away and take this call,” she said to Avery and Savannah. “Can you hold down the fort for a few minutes, please?”
“Take as long as you need,” Savannah said. “We’ve got you covered.”
Rachel waved her thanks as she accepted the call. “Hi, Johnny. What’s up?”
“Hey, Rachel. I hope I’m not getting you at a bad time.”
“I’m in the middle of Cookies in the Park, but I have a moment.”
“Oh, that’s right. That’s today. Do you have a good crowd?”
“I do. Looks like we’re going to run out of cookies in the next hour or so.”
“Who can resist a good decorated sugar cookie? And speaking of cookies, a few moments ago, I got a call from the folks over at Mama Bear Cookies. They have asked to push up the deadline for you to make your decision to December 18.”
Rachel calculated the days in her head. “Johnny, that’s this Monday. That’s two weeks earlier than what we agreed on.”
“I know,” Johnny said. “I told them it might be a problem.”
“And what did they say?”
“They said they need an answer by Monday.”
Rachel raked her hand into her hair. “I can’t give them an answer that fast, Johnny. With everything that’s been going on, I haven’t had time to lay it all out. Why are they rushing me?”
“They’ve come up with a plan to create a separate line for your cookies under the Mama Bear umbrella. They want to call it Mama Rachel’s Cookies. So that it fits in with the Mama line—Mama Bear, Mama Rachel.”
“Are you kidding me?” Rachel snorted.
Johnny was quiet for a moment. “I wish I was. But this is their plan.”
“They’re making this easier and easier for me to refuse. Rushing me and now this Mama Rachel bit. I can’t even say that with a straight face. Tell me they’ve at least upped the ante a bit. Are they willing to come up from the original offer?”
“No, they’re not.”
“So, now they want to use my name. What’s next? Will they charge me a sponsorship fee?” She laughed, even though it really wasn’t funny. It was almost insulting.
“Think about it and give me your answer Monday morning.”
“What’s wrong?” Savannah asked when Rachel got back to the table.
Rachel relayed the conversation she’d had with Johnny.
“Mama Rachel?” Avery and Savannah burst out laughing. “Who is in charge of branding for this company?”
“I’m sorry,” Savannah said through the laughter. “That’s going to have to be your new nickname from now on. Mama Rachel.”
“I’m glad you two find it so amusing.” Rachel picked up a star-shaped cookie and took a bite.
“Oh, come on,” Savannah said. “This is almost funnier than the Mama Bear slogan, It’s Just Right.”
“Oooh, that one’s too big,” Avery said making her eyes huge and covering her mouth with her hand. “But that one’s too small.” She frowned. “But this one…this one is—”
Rachel grabbed her hand. “Do not do the vulgar thing you always do when you say that. There are kids around.”
“I wasn’t,” Avery assured her. “But this whole thing just keeps getting more and more ridiculous. It’s almost crossed over into campy. Is Mama Rachel’s slogan going to be, This one’s too hard, this one’s too soft…?”
Rachel covered her face with her hands to keep from laughing. “You two are terrible. Go home if you’re going to act like that.”
A Texas Christmas Homecoming Page 12