Yew Queen Trilogy, стр. 5
“Sorry, everyone!” I called as I hurried back into the front room of the bakery.
“What are you sorry about?” a teen tourist asked, looking genuinely concerned.
“Oh, nothing. Ignore me.”
Ami, our gum-snapping cashier gal with a heart of gold, would be at the counter soon, but she was doing the whole online college thing, and I’d told her she could come in late since she’d had a rough go of it lately.
The line at the counter went all the way to the door. I gave the customers a smile and went to work, tucking my bizarre experience into the far, dark corners of my puzzled mind.
A woman flanked by the concerned teen and a younger kid ordered three pumpkin muffins. I baked the ubiquitous fall treat each night no matter what the season because customers loved them so much. Everyone had to forgive my pride, but it refused to be tamed on the subject. I had a great way of triple sealing this vented container I’d found at a yard sale five years ago, and it kept the muffins completely fresh even forty-eight hours post-bake.
After doling out pumpkin muffins galore, six croissants, an iced Americano, four black coffees, and an array of cookies, I took a cake order from a harried mother with two babies in a double stroller.
“Yes, we can do it,” I told her as I fetched a tossed pacifier. “I have zero problems with a fondant kraken. In fact, I think your third-grader must be pretty rad to want a cake like that.”
The mother gave me a genuine smile as I washed the pacifier in the sink behind the counter, then handed it back to her. “Thanks so much,” she said. “We’re new in town, and I’m so happy to find a bakery like this.”
She wasn’t the only one new in town. Blinking away thoughts of the psycho on the hill and the castle that no one but me could see, I finally thanked her. “And be sure to check out Merridee’s on 4th. They serve this great curried chicken salad, plus there’s a little lobby where your toddlers can run around for a minute.”
Her eyes lit up like I’d promised her gossip about her mother-in-law. “You are a life saver.”
She turned her diaper-bag-laden stroller around, getting it snagged on a chair.
Nancy Striffer—yes, the one who ran the Daily Noser—walked in. Her bosom swayed dramatically as she helped the mother work one of the diaper bags’ straps off the chair. The mother waved to everyone in the bakery, then left as one of the city council guys opened the door for her.
I cocked my head, studying Nancy’s overly rouged face as she approached the counter. “See anything interesting of late?” I asked, hoping she would mention the castle.
Nancy sniffed. “Oh, yes. But you’ll have to wait until today’s post to hear about it.”
Excitement ran through me. I wasn’t going insane! Yay! “It’s about new construction, isn’t it?”
Nancy’s forehead wrinkled, and her floral perfume argued with the scent of Hekla’s croissants. “No.” Then her face cleared. “Oh, you’re talking about the golf course disaster that Hekla’s brother is building.”
Hekla’s voice came from the kitchen. “I can hear you, you know, Nancy.”
Nancy raised her chin and her voice both. “I’m only telling the truth, dear, and you know it. That place floods every other month, and why he thinks he can drain it is beyond me. A waste of good money. You tell him I said that!”
I rolled my eyes and patted Nancy’s freckled hand. “Please don’t antagonize Hekla. Her anger will come out in the croissants.”
Several folks in line gasped quietly, and I nodded at them.
Nancy tucked her chin and took a ten out of her purse. “I meant no harm,” she stage-whispered.
“Sure you didn’t. Of course.” I rang up her usual, one croissant and a large sweet tea. But my calm voice was all a lie. Sweat beaded on my back, making my shirt stick. The images of the castle and the man flashed through my mind like strobe lights.
Ami came up behind me. “Thanks for the whole late-to-work thing, Coren,” she whispered. “Yesterday’s exam was a rough one.”
I gave Ami a pat on the back, and she immediately set to work, taking orders from a group of gray-haired tourists with New Jersey accents.
The morning rush ended around 10:15, and I wasted no time heading into the kitchen.
“Hekla. Please. You have to at least play along with my insanity.”
Flour coated one half of her cherubic face. “Is it lunch already?”
“Yep.” Time to see a castle.
Chapter 4
I dragged her out the back door and pointed to the massive hill and the equally massive castle. It was crazy that I could see it from all the way over here on Main.
“There! What in the hell is that and when was it built?” My voice cracked as my heart tripled its pace. “I do not remember a castle being constructed in Franklin.”
Hekla gawked in the castle’s direction. Then her wide-eyed gaze slid to focus on me. “I see the parking lot. The church. And the sky, which is now thankfully turning blue.”
I almost screamed. “No, Hekla. No. You see a freaking Italianesque castle. With a tower. And a clock. And possibly a hot, most likely too-alpha-for-his-own-good dude at the front portcullis.”
“Did they have clocks during castle times?”
“Not the point here, Hekla!”
Hekla huffed and bit her lower lip. “I appreciate your pranks as much as the next gal, nay, more than the next gal. But dude, this is kind of worrying me.” She pulled me into a hug. “Do we need to close up? Do you need to talk?” Sliding away and studying my face, she frowned. “Maybe you should call your Aunt Viv.”
My