Page 53 of Cowboy’s Christmas Baker

That was an amazing deal, but Mal didn’t feel right not paying more. The price per sack was already so low that it had been well worth the drive.

“Why don’t I pay half-price for the other four sacks?” she offered. “Five-for-one is very generous, but it feels like too much.”

“Tell you what,” Harold said. “Let’s do five-for-two. And if you don’t mind picking them up next year, we’ll hold them all for you and give you the same deal.”

“We’re not so sure we want to fix the truck,” Chessie confided. “Turns out that most of the shops that buy our candy canes can easily send their own trucks.”

Mal had no idea what she would use all those broken candy canes for, but she was pretty sure she could come up with something.

“I can commit to a pick-up every year,” Harrison said. “What do you think, Mallory?”

“Are you sure?” she asked him.

He nodded once, his serious expression telling her all she needed to know.

“It’s a deal,” she told Harold and Chessie excitedly.

“Wonderful,” Chessie said. “If we wind up out your way, we’ll come by for a peppermint mocha.”

“Please do,” Mal said. “It’ll be on the house, of course.”

The two men headed out to the shop to start carrying bags, while Chessie showed Mal her latest creation, a satiny ribbon of red, green, and white candy in a pretty green gift box.

Too soon, Mal and Harrison were heading out again. Mal waved goodbye to Harold and Chessie through the window.

“They have such a good thing going,” she heard herself say out loud. “You can just tell they’re still madly in love.”

Harrison cleared his throat.

But when she turned to him, he only nodded, frowning to himself with his eyes trained on the road in front of him.

Did I dream it yesterday? Mal couldn’t help wondering. Did I dream he was gazing at me like Romeo pining for Juliet?

She kept hitting a wall with Harrison. She couldn’t reconcile the open emotions of the man she’d met online with the grumpy cowboy who’d presented himself in person. And now she couldn’t even reconcile who he’d been last night with the steely-eyed man beside her today.

She reminded herself that he was still hurting from losing someone he loved. Her own feelings changed with the wind these days too, highs and lows tumbling in right on top of each other sometimes, sending her reeling.

She took a deep breath and sat back in her seat, letting her eyes go to the trees and the fields.

“Oh,” she exclaimed a moment later. “Wait, pull over.”

Harrison signaled and pulled to the side of the road, where a woman in a plain dress with a white bonnet and a young boy stood at a wooden table with baskets of soft pretzels.

“Thanks,” Mal said. “These are so good.”

Harrison made it out in time to open her door for her and she felt a funny little tingle as she placed her hand in his.

They approached the table and she exchanged a greeting with the lady. Harrison bought two pretzels from the boy before Mal could even ask and they said their goodbyes.

“Thanks again,” Mal said, as Harrison handed her back into the truck and gave her the paper bag with their pretzels.

He got back in with a little smile on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s just funny that even when you take a few hours off, you’re just buying someone else’s baked goods,” he said.

“You’re right,” she said, smiling. “But wait until you taste these. Then you’ll understand. My mom used to make pretzels just like this.”