by Betty Bolte
Think. Where might she find contenders for Thanksgiving dessert? While the books held lots of possibilities, deciding on which ones proved elusive. She needed to narrow her options. If only she could employ Boolean operators on the index… That was the answer. She raised her head and pushed away from the table. Hurrying to her purse, she pulled out her phone and quickly typed in the search criteria: easy dessert recipes. Within moments a long list of links appeared and she began skimming the plethora of ideas. An overwhelming number of ideas. Mind-blowing, really. So much for weeding out those too complex or challenging. As she read through the links, the very titles seemed to suggest complicated recipes.
Frozen Raspberry Pistachio Terrine? Hmmm, what exactly was terrine? If she didn’t know what the thing was, then it was probably best to keep looking. Raspberry Truffles? No way. Ice Cream Cake? That might be a possibility. Then again, why not just serve ice cream? But frozen wasn’t baking. She sighed. The list contained dozens of cookie recipes, which wouldn’t suit the need. Her need to prove to her sister, and to herself, that she could prepare a delectable after-dinner treat or two. She kept searching as footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Beth came into the kitchen and then stopped, drawing Tara’s attention away from the device in her hands. Beth’s jaw slowly dropped open as her brows raised over wide eyes. “What on earth are you doing?”
Tara noted the surprise and hint of alarm in her sister’s eyes. “Trying to decide what to make for dessert. What’s it look like?”
“Like you’ve lost your ever-loving mind.” Shaking her head slowly, Beth continued across the room to stand beside Tara. Peering over her shoulder, she laughed. “Wow. Who knew there were so many possibilities.”
Too many. Tara perused the stacks before her with the absolute knowledge she would fail. Fantastically, no doubt. She who couldn’t even warm sticky buns in the oven without issues. She pressed her eyes closed for two seconds and then opened them to regard her sister.
“It’s mind-boggling.” Tara tossed her phone onto the table and sighed. “I just don’t know what to do. Thanksgiving is only four days away, and I have no clue.”
Beth studied her, tapping one hand on her crossed arms. “You’re overreacting.”
“How so?”
“I could help you.”
“Would you?” Hope blossomed in the pit of Tara’s stomach like the first notes of a song.
“You’re my sister. I can tell you’re concerned so of course I’ll help you.”
But what about Beth’s other cooking responsibilities? It wasn’t fair to ask her to do more. Besides, Roxie had placed her faith in Tara. She believed Tara possessed the ability to make dessert. A seemingly simple task. Asking for help would only reinforce Roxie’s belief that Tara couldn’t push past her mental barrier. She had to succeed on her terms or not at all.
“Thanks but no.” Tara sighed as she rubbed a finger on the side of her nose to relieve an itch. “I need to do this myself.”
“Roxie didn’t say you couldn’t ask for help.” Beth grinned. “Maybe your reluctance is not about needing help. Maybe it’s more than that. Are you by chance worried about having Grant here? I mean, I think he’s cute and all, so if you don’t want him…”
“Why does everyone think there’s something between us? I barely know the man. He paid more attention to you than me at dinner the other night.” One dance at a party didn’t mean they were an item. Even if she found herself reliving the minutes they’d spent together like a never-ending film loop. Proving her body did not always agree with her head. “Besides, you know what happened the last time a guy found out about my powers.” Tara shook her head as she plopped onto the chair.
She had thought Ned had potential. He’d asked her out while she was studying at the local college, and for five glorious weeks, she had been in love. They were inseparable, attending the monthly dances, going to the movies, taking long walks through the country, and simply hanging out on the square. She blithely assumed he cared for her. All of her and her capabilities. Until the day when he’d tripped and fallen while they were biking along a winding lane outside of town. His cry of pain when he tried to break his fall alerted her to his broken wrist. Without considering the consequences, she wrapped both hands around the joint. When she let go, Ned stared at her, breathing faster and faster, eyes widening in alarm.
She’d tried to calm him, to explain, but when she said the word “witch,” he’d popped to his feet and took off running for his bike. He never talked to her again, always steering clear of her whenever he saw her approaching. He never told anyone about her powers as far as she could determine. Probably afraid he’d be called crazy for his efforts. The ordeal taught her a very hard lesson, never to reveal her abilities to anyone. She’d kept her vow to protect her heart from such pain and devastation. She’d built a shield of defense tough enough to prevent anyone from breaking through. Until Grant showed up.
“Ouch. I do. But Grant seems different.” Beth reached to pick up the Joy of Baking from among the mess of books on the table. She opened it, almost reverently she turned the pages one by one. “This was Mom’s favorite.”
Tara peered at the page where Beth had paused. Banana nut bread caught her eye. “Remember when Mom would make that?”
Beth drew a finger down the page, pausing at the few ingredients listed. “She could make the best around. Did Mom ever tell you her secret ingredient?”
Tara aimed raised brows up at her sister. Her hope shattered into splinters. “Secret ingredient?”
Beth slowly closed the book and placed it back on the haphazard pile. “She didn’t tell me what it was, but she always put something in that’s not listed in the book.”
“I’m doomed.” Tara slapped her hands against her forehead and rested her heavy head on her palms. “I can’t measure up no matter what I do.”
Beth chuckled and tapped Tara on the shoulder. Tara lifted her head to gaze at her sister, letting her hands fall into her lap. Beth shook her head as she tugged on Tara’s arm until she stood.
Beth pulled Tara around to look at her. After a moment, she dropped her hands to her sides. “First, you need to get a grip on reality.”
“What reality?” Tara stared at Beth, waiting. Would she have some insight Tara had missed?
“It’s not a contest. You’re not going to be judged on the outcome.”
“Sure I am. Roxie will be assessing whether I’ve succeeded or failed yet again.” Tara crossed her arms, wrapping them around herself like a protective blanket. “I don’t want to let her down. Or the family for that matter. This is too important.”
If the dinner were only for the three sisters, then Tara wouldn’t worry quite so much. Adding in the two cousins and their husbands, and then Grant as the cherry on top created havoc in her stomach. His opinion mattered more to her than it probably should, given how little she knew about him. Beth had expressed interest in him and Tara had high hopes they would become a couple. Leaving her to quell her own feelings. Despite the knowledge she and Grant shared an attraction on the molecular level. But a repellant on a logical level as far as where he lived and worked and what he’d say about her being a witch. The resulting disconnect put her heart in peril. She mentally reinforced the shield, hoping it proved strong enough to protect her.
Beth shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t get it.”
Tara studied Beth’s face, seeing the sincerity in her steady gaze. Love and concern blending to soften her features as she contemplated Tara. “What don’t I get?”
The middle sister had been the glue holding the three of them together since the loss of their mother. Her compassion and consistency enabled her to not only accurately understand any situation, any personality, and any clash of wills, but also to see ways to steer the people toward a better situation or resolution. Almost as if she could see into the future. Which of course she could. Maybe Tara should listen more closely to what she had to say.
> “Roxie won’t judge you harshly. She only wants us to work together to share a tradition in our family with our newest additions.”
“I feel like she wants to show us off to them or something.” Tara hugged herself tighter.
“It’s her way of welcoming them. More to the point, the three of us will work together to create a holiday meal and a new tradition.” Beth laid her hands on Tara’s upper arms and slowly slid her hands down to prompt Tara to unwrap her arms. Eventually, Beth held both of Tara’s hands in hers as she leaned closer to emphasize her next words. “It’s not a trial.”
“It feels like a test. And you know how much I hate exams.”
Beth squeezed Tara’s hands briefly and then released them. “I know, which is why I’m trying to tell you that you need to relax and make something you will enjoy sharing with the rest of us.”
“No pressure, huh?” Tara turned to the stacks of cookbooks. Not only would she let down her family, but she’d also embarrass herself in front of Grant. An event she’d do anything to avoid. Anything. “If I could believe that, perhaps this would be easier.”
Chapter 9
A group of school-aged children rode their bikes through the town square. Grant parked his car near the Golden Owl Books and Brews. Shoppers and tourists with their cameras at the ready crowded the sidewalks. With the holiday season beginning, more people had descended on the quaint town to buy gifts, gather at the many restaurants, or shop in the boutiques. The bookstore also drew shoppers, as Grant discovered when he entered the bustling business.
He hesitated inside the door, the tiny bell announcing his entrance jangling into silence above him. Nerves simmered in his stomach, roiling his quick breakfast into a painful knot. Scanning the room, he nodded to Roxie and then espied Beth behind the coffee counter waiting on customers. Where was Tara?
Strolling farther into the store, he made his way past the displays of jewelry and stationary toward the shelves and shelves of books. As he passed the door to the workroom, he peeked inside. Empty. He let his gaze drift over the expanse before him but still did not see the woman he sought. Glancing up at the second floor, he decided to climb the stairs to see if she might be among the nonfiction books. When he reached the top, he perused the sections slowly until he spotted her. Head bent over an array of colorful covers.
Taking a moment to observe her, he lingered at the edge of the large balcony crammed with chest-high shelves of books surrounding a group of tables and chairs. Leaning against the railing, he watched her. The carpeted path from where he stood to the wooden table where she worked provided a direct line of sight of her pretty features marred by a frown of concentration. Long hair pulled up into a neat ponytail draped over her left shoulder. He could gaze on her beauty as long as she’d let him. Longer. Trim but not skinny. Pretty but not vain. Smart and funny to boot. She might not be perfect, but she was damn close.
She chewed on a pencil for several moments and then jotted notes on a pad of paper at her right. Her intensity surprised him. What was she doing? Surrounded by so many books while she was supposed to be working. The sight didn’t bode well. Perhaps he could help her. He couldn’t figure out her objective from afar, so he pushed off the railing.
He strode to where she intently pored over a large book with colored pictures of nut pies evident. Must be getting ready for the dinner in a few days. His mouth watered at the sight of the pecan and walnut pies. Thanksgiving couldn’t come soon enough. “Howdy.” He jumped when she startled at the sound of his voice. “Whoa, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Tara placed a hand at her throat and shook her head as she gazed up at him. “My bad. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“What are you doing?” He leaned closer to peer at the page. “Pecan pie with honey and maple syrup? Sounds good.”
She gave a long, heartfelt release of pent up air, and dropped the pencil on the pad. “And complicated.”
“It’s easy as pie, right?” He chuckled at his joke only to stop at the glare Tara aimed at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’ll figure it out.” She glanced over the mess of books and then stood and started stacking them in preparation for shelving them. “What brings you in today?”
“You, actually.” Did he just blurt that out? What was wrong with him? “I mean—”
She grabbed several of the books, fumbling them into a bundle in her arms, and brushed past him. “I’ve got work to do, so if you’ll excuse me.”
He followed her, grasping for the right words. How did one ask a beautiful woman on a date without making a fool of himself in the process? He’d already bungled it with his outburst. As she placed the last book in her arms on the shelf, he stepped in front of her. Blocking her retreat to the table for another group of cookbooks.
“Tara, please.” Should he take her hands? No, probably not. He rubbed one hand across his nape. “Spare me a few minutes?”
She crossed her arms and studied him, blinking slowly. “Very well. What do you want?”
“I’d like to take you out on a date.” He inched closer, reducing the escape route as he pressed his case. “I cannot stop thinking of our dance together.”
“Dance?” Her voice emerged breathy and hesitant.
“At the costume party.” Surely she remembered. He hoped. “At Twin Oaks.”
She bobbed her head twice. “Right.”
“Will you go out with me?” Please say yes. He waited for her response, holding his breath until he had to inhale or die.
She opened her mouth to say something only to be interrupted by Beth approaching. Blast. Talk about timing. Bad timing. Grant greeted Beth with a nod.
“What brings you in today?” Beth smiled at him, eager to chat.
“I came to ask Tara out.” He liked Beth because she was direct and yet didn’t make him uncomfortable. He shot a sideways glance at Tara and then returned Beth’s smile. “She’s keeping me in suspense.”
“Say yes, Tara.” Beth nodded at Tara, sneaking a quick peek at Grant before leveling her gaze on her sister. She widened her eyes as she studied her. “You need a break.”
Tara shook her head as a slight frown formed between her eyes. “I’ve got too much to do. I can’t.”
What would entice Tara to accept his invitation despite her workload? A cup of coffee? A movie?
“Everyone needs to play occasionally.” Beth shook a finger at Tara, a smile on her face. “You don’t want to become dull, right?”
“It’s my day to organize the stationery and jewelry displays.” Tara folded her arms, a protective wall shutting Grant out. “Before we have too many customers pawing through them on Black Friday.”
“You’ve plenty of time to do that later.” Beth included Grant in her glance. “Listen to me. Accept his offer and go out with him.”
Tara slid her gaze to Grant, and he smiled at her. Encouraging her with every fiber of his being. He needed her to follow her sister’s advice.
“Why don’t you go and I’ll get my work done?” Tara’s expression revealed a hint of desperation.
Beth raised a brow and shook her head. “He asked you, not me.”
“Please?” Grant sidled closer, hoping to influence her decision. “I promise you’ll have a good time.”
“And do what?” Tara regarded Grant for a moment, then glanced between him and her sister. “There’s not much to do in Roseville.”
Encouraged by her question, Grant ran through the obvious choices. “We could grab a coffee.”
Tara tossed her hair with an exasperated jerk of her head. “We serve that here.”
“A movie?” Grant dredged his memory for what was playing at the two-screen cinema in town. “I think there’s a horror flick playing.”
“Horror?” She shook her head, sending Beth a pleading glance. “Not my thing. See, there’s nothing to do in town.”
“What about outside of town?” Grant scrambled to think of another option. Then an idea popped into his br
ain. “How about a hike in the woods?”
“A hike?”
“You could take a picnic and make a day of it.” Beth grinned and tapped Tara on the shoulder. “Sounds like a fun kind of date.”
Hope and victory fought inside Grant as he watched Tara contemplate the idea. He didn’t know if she liked to be out in nature, but if so that was a happy coincidence on his part. Also a good match for their chances of finding common ground on which to build a relationship. If only she’d say yes.
Tara tilted her head to one side as she shook it. “It’s tempting, but no. I really must stay and focus on what I need to get done. Perhaps another time, Grant.”
She made to push past Beth but was stopped by that woman’s hand on her upper arm. They exchanged a long look, complete with raised and lowered eyebrows and tilts of their head. Beth made a moue and pressed her palms together as if praying. Tara sighed and dropped her shoulders before turning to Grant. Their silent debate showed how close the sisters were to each other. And that Beth was on his side.
“Fine. When and where?”
Victory won the battle in Grant’s chest. “Awesome. Tomorrow morning? I hear there’s a state park about thirty miles from here that has some cool geological sites worth checking out.”
Tara laced her fingers together in front of her waist and shifted her weight to her left hip. “I’ll pack the picnic if you don’t mind store-bought deli.”
“I’ll bring the rest of the gear.” Grant mentally categorized the tools he’d bring for extracting small soil or rock samples as well as survival necessities. He never went hiking without taking the proper precautions. Not since the tragedy he’d caused as a boy. No way would he let another person come to harm as a result of his actions. “The weather is supposed to remain mild until Thanksgiving, so dress in layers.”