Page 52 of Cowboy’s Christmas Baker

“So the signature item gets people in the door?” Harrison offered.

“Exactly,” Mal said. “And if I have one, then once they’re inside maybe they’ll realize I’ve got a lot to offer, not just a loaf of bread or a cookie, but gift cards, cakes made to order, even catering.”

“I get it now,” Harrison said, nodding. “You’re right to be brainstorming this.”

“I can’t just pick something from the regular menu, though,” she said, nodding. “It needs to be a little unusual.”

“You’ll think of something,” Harrison said gruffly.

His confidence in her was like lightning in her veins. It felt earned in a way it never did when her dad or her besties pumped her up. If she could convince this grumpy cowboy that a special dessert could change her business, and he thought she was up for the challenge, it meant something.

“If I do figure this out, maybe the bakery can finally do well enough to make Simon Webb an offer on the building,” she let herself dream out loud. “And once I own the building, it will feel like I’m finally getting somewhere.”

“What do you mean?” Harrison asked.

“Well, I told you how Valerie has always known what she wanted,” Mal said, shrugging. “She learned her trade, and she runs a shop that’s special enough for people to travel to. And Ana makes gorgeous clothing with her mom, which is what the two of them always dreamed of, having a dress shop together.”

“And you run an amazing bakery,” Harrison said, nodding. “Would owning the building really change anything?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, glancing over at him. “Do you feel different owning your own farm?”

“Fair point,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up slightly, like he wanted to smile. “And yeah, it does make a difference.”

“Anyway,” Mal said. “I guess I just need inspiration.”

“Well, a little trip out of town to break up the routine can’t hurt,” Harrison said.

Mal smiled and gazed out the window again. As they drove, miles of farmland gave way to woods and hillsides and then melted back into snowy fields.

While her friends loved taking a day off to go into the city and explore the parks and museums, Mal absolutely loved the countryside. Maybe one day she could convince her besties to do a camping trip. Although it was tough to picture Valerie sleeping in a tent.

They drove on in friendly silence, the late morning sun warming up and shimmering on the snow outside.

At last, Harrison turned onto a gravel driveway with a handprinted sign that said Chessie’s Candies.

“We made good time,” Harrison said. “Hopefully they’re ready for us.”

“Thank you again for the ride,” Mal said. “I’m so glad I’ll have crushed candy canes for the drinks this year.”

As they pulled up at a little house with green shingles and smoke swirling out the chimney, the front door opened and an older couple stepped outside. Each was wearing a gorgeous hand-knit sweater and a big smile.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers,” Mal said as she got out of the truck.

“It’s just Chessie and Harold, honey,” the woman said, coming forward to give Mal a hug as soon as she reached the porch. “You know that.”

For a small lady, Chessie gave a nice strong hug. And Harold followed it up with a handshake, and another for Harrison, who had joined them.

“Nice to meet you, young man,” he said.

“Harrison,” he replied. “And it’s nice to meet you too, sir.”

“I’m so glad you let us stop by,” Mal said. “My winter drinks wouldn’t be half as special without your candy canes.”

“Well, we’ve got a proposition for you,” Chessie said, her eyes dancing. “Instead of one sack of broken canes, we’ve got five.”

“Five?” Mal echoed, instantly trying to figure out what she could do with five bags. “Same price for each?”

“It’s a five-for-one deal,” Harold said, winking. “No one else wanted to come out and pick them up.”