Page 51 of Cowboy’s Christmas Baker

“Things are going well,” he told her, brightening a little. “I want more cows, but the ones I’ve got are good producers. And the spring is a lifesaver.”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Mal said with a smile. “But we used to sneak onto your property when I was a kid, just to get a bottle of that water.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a pleasant expression on his face.

“My friend Ana and I liked to hike in the woods that back up to the Jones place,” she said, thinking back to the two of them wandering among the trees, singing silly pop songs and dreaming about the future. “That spring water is irresistible when you’re hot and sweaty.”

“I’ll bet,” Harrison said with a smile. “You can feel free to stop by and fill your water bottle anytime you want.”

“I just might take you up on that,” Mal said, laughing.

“Valerie didn’t hike with you, huh?” Harrison asked.

“No,” Mal said. “It wasn’t her thing, and by the time we were teens she was working at Gabriel’s anyway. She always wanted spending money for her jewelry-making.”

“Even back then, huh?” Harrison asked.

“Valerie’s always known what she wanted,” Mal said proudly. “She apprenticed to the man who used to own Promises, Promises. Though of course it wasn’t called that back then.”

“What was it called?” Harrison asked.

“Trinity Falls Jewelry,” Mal said with a smile.

“The new name is better,” Harrison said firmly.

“Yes,” Mal said. “Valerie has always had a creative flair.”

“Have you ever thought about renaming the bakery?” Harrison asked.

“Like something more creative than The Bakery on Park?” Mal asked with a smile. “Yes, but I haven’t been able to settle on anything better.”

“It’s probably hard to top,” Harrison said. “What and where it is are right in the name.”

“That’s true,” Mal said with a smile. “The idea would have to be pretty special for me to make a change.”

“As special as your signature dessert,” Harrison said, nodding, his eyes on the road.

“Ugh,” Mal sighed, remembering the results of last night’s taste test at Cassidy Farm. She’d had dozens of testers and still wound up without a standout.

“Hey, a tie isn’t such a bad thing,” Harrison said with a smile. “It means both scones were excellent.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It means neither was good enough to be a signature treat.”

“What even is a signature treat?” Harrison asked, shrugging. “Isn’t it enough that everything in the bakery is delicious?”

“Most bakeries have tons of delicious offerings,” Mal said. “But think about the Starbucks pumpkin spice latte. That’s the kind of thing that gets people in the doors on September first. A bunch of the teens from Trinity Falls even took the train into the city for them last year. Everyone was talking about it.”

“Okay,” Harrison allowed. “But that’s a huge franchise. You can’t compare your small business to that.”

“Think about Pete’s place,” Mal said. “Jolly Beans has a signature Christmas treat.”

“Cranberry loaf,” Harrison said softly. “How do I even remember that?”

“Because it’s that good,” Mal said miserably. “And because no one else does it like Pete. It puts you in the mood for the holidays just knowing he has it.”

“Okay,” Harrison said, nodding.

“And when people come in for the cranberry loaf, they get coffee to go with it,” Mal said. “And it reminds them to pick up a gift card or come back with the girls from the office, or order stuff for a party, or whatever.”