Page 11 of Cowboy’s Christmas Baker

“Yeah?” Katie asked, her eyes wide and the hint of a smile teasing up the corners of her mouth.

“Sure,” Mallory said. “We bakers have to support each other. That’s what my mom always said.”

Katie’s happy expression shut down instantly, like a cloud moving in front of the sun, and Harrison felt a twist in his gut.

“Hey, that’s a really nice offer, Mallory,” he said, jumping in. “We’re both pretty tired from the trip. Maybe we can pick up the rest of your tour another day?”

“I’ll adjust the tour,” Mallory said with a funny smile. “Unless you really wanted to see where the eye doctor’s office is and connect with the community driving service for seniors?”

“I’m good on that,” Harrison said. “Though I’d be glad to give a senior a ride if they need drivers.”

He knew he had no business volunteering what he knew would be minimal free time, but something about the young woman’s sunny smile made it worthwhile.

“That’s really nice,” Mallory said. “Right now, we’ve got a whole bunch of college students pitching in because they’re home on break. But I know the service would love to have one more volunteer to call in the wintertime. I’ll message you the info and the requirements.”

“Thank you,” Harrison said gruffly, trying and failing to tear his eyes from hers. They were as green as the forest and sparkled like precious gems, especially when she talked about helping people.

Snap out of it, he told himself.

“My pleasure,” Mallory said. “It was great to meet you both. Hopefully, we can get together again soon.”

She waved to him and then hurried back up Park Avenue toward the bakery, her bright ponytail swinging merrily, as if to the beat of a song Harrison couldn’t hear.

“She’s funny,” Katie said suddenly.

Harrison turned to his daughter, but she was already making a beeline for his truck, leaving him no choice but to follow.

Today wasn’t exactly turning out the way he’d expected, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mad about it.

3

HARRISON

Harrison drove north on Ambler Road, enjoying the sight of the snow flurries swirling like a haze over the little town as he tried not to let himself spin out over Mallory Fisher and who she really was.

Katie sat in the back, silent once again.

She was small for eight, so it might be a while before she could sit in the passenger seat beside him. He found himself wishing again that she had a brother or sister back there with her to shake her up a little.

Katie was smart, and her teachers always said so. She did her work and participated as required at school. But she was so quiet.

Her second-grade teacher had been convinced that Katie was just shy, but Harrison knew that wasn’t it. Then the third-grade teacher suggested that maybe she was zoning out due to an attention deficit disorder. The school psychologist tested her and then talked to Harrison about childhood social anxiety instead, giving him an arsenal of ways to help, and reminding him to be patient. He’d listened and done what he could, but none of her suggestions seemed to make much difference.

The psychologist probably had it mostly right, but Harrison still couldn’t shake the feeling that when her mom died, Katie had simply checked out. She wasn’t engaging much anymore because her heart was broken and the world didn’t seem to be worth bothering with anymore.

He’d certainly felt that way himself, especially in the beginning. Now, he spent too much time worrying about Katie to let himself wallow in memories of Penny.

She spoke to Mallory today, he told himself. She almost laughed when we were at the library. And she said Mallory was funny.

He’d told his father that he was moving here for the farm, which was miraculously in his price range, and included a small house with a new roof and heater and all the furnishings.

But that was only partly true. In his heart, he was hoping that a change of scenery might wake Katie from the spell that had her moving through life like she was asleep.

They passed the fields of the community college campus and the larger stone houses on the north side of town. So many of them were beautifully decorated for Christmas. It almost looked like the charming pretend town a toy train would pass in a toy store display, not like a real living town filled with actual people who strung their Christmas lights and left sleds and snow boots on the porches.

Maybe we can decorate the farmhouse, he thought to himself.

He was pretty sure there was still a hardware store in town. They probably sold string lights and decorations. If not, they could go to one of the big-box stores a town or two over.