was written in flowing script across the front windows. “I came over to make my final payment on my wedding cake only to find that the baker, apparently, has skipped town.”
Erika said, “She paid him two-thirds in advance. Can you believe that? This is fraud, plain and simple.”
“It’s a disaster, that’s what it is.” Erin raked her shining blond hair back off her forehead with an impatient hand. “I don’t even care about the money at this point. I care that it’s Thursday … .” A whimper escaped her. “Thursday.”
Erika wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll figure out something. There are other bakeries in town.”
“I can’t believe it. Forty-eight hours until the wedding.” Erin’s huge blue eyes swam with tears. “The whole town is coming. And. No. Cake.”
Ethan never could stand to see a woman cry. Plus, as soon as he’d realized what the problem was, he had the solution. “Erin, dry those tears. And come with me, you two. My car’s right there.”
His brothers’ women looked at him as if he was a couple sandwiches short of a picnic.
Erin sniffed. “Ethan, we’re both glad to see you and we’d love to spend a little time with you. But right now we’ve got to find someone who can deliver a six-tier wedding cake by Saturday.”
“I’m with you. I get it.” He took Erin’s arm and wrapped it around his. And he offered his other arm to Erika. “And believe it or not, I happen to know the best baker in Texas.”
Erin remained unconvinced. “That’s great, Ethan, but there’s no time to fly someone in from Texas.”
“I know. And that’s not a problem. The baker in question is right here in town—whipping the house I’m renting into shape, as a matter of fact.”
“Uh, he is?”
“Actually, her name is Lizzie. She’s a genius of a baker. She’s at my house and we are going there now.”
Lizzie stood in the formal living room of the house she’d rented for Ethan, BlackBerry in hand, and checked off the afternoon’s already-accomplished tasks.
Unpack 4 Ethan. Check.
Unpack 4 self. Check.
There was more in the same vein. But overall, the house was in pretty good shape. It had come quite nicely furnished and she’d hired Super-Spiffy Housekeeping to make the place shine. Also, the Super-Spiffy folks offered a shopping service. Lizzie jumped on that, too. As a result, the pantry and fridge were now fully stocked and ready to go.
Now, to figure out what to whip up for dinner. It would have to be something she could make up ahead and stick in the fridge, just in case Ethan wandered in later with an empty stomach. And cookies might be nice. Her mama’s recipe for butter pecan sugar cookies maybe. He could never get enough of those.
Yeah, okay. She totally spoiled him and she knew it. But when she baked, she was spoiling herself, too. There was nothing like the smell of cookies in the oven. Or sourdough bread. Or a sweet fruit kuchen. Or a nice devil’s food cake.
The smell of something baking always made Lizzie feel that all was right with the world. It brought back memories of her childhood, as vivid and real as if they were happening in the here and now, so many years later. Memories of the little child-size table she had in the back of the family business, the Texas Bluebell Bakery. Of her mama singing “Au clair de la lune” and “Frère Jacques” as she decorated a tall, splendid wedding cake or even asked for Lizzie’s help to cut gingerbread men from dark, spicy dough. When Lizzie baked, she saw her maman’s heart-shaped delicate face, her pink cheeks and radiant smile. She saw her dad as a young man again, a happy man. He’d met her maman when he was in the army, stationed in France, and he’d loved her on sight. So he’d swept her off her tiny feet and brought her home to reign over the bakery he’d inherited from his parents. Lizzie’s dad had lived for her maman.
And when her maman was gone …
Lizzie blinked and shook her head. No point in going there. She had a meal to prepare. And then she had butter-thick cookie batter to mix with toasted pecans, roll into sugared balls and flatten with the round base of a glass.
She was just turning for the kitchen when she heard the front door open.
Ethan appeared from the foyer, ushering a striking blonde and a curvy, big-eyed brunette in ahead of him. He spotted her. “Lizzie, there you are.”
She laughed. “Ethan, what are you up to now?”
He put an arm across the blonde’s shoulders. “Lizzie, meet Corey’s beautiful bride, Erin Castro.” He hooked the other arm around the brunette. “And this gorgeous creature is Erika, Dillon’s wife. My brothers are such fortunate men.”
Lizzie recognized the two from family photos. “Hey, great to meet you both at last.”
Erin said, “Hi,” kind of limply. Erika echoed the word. Both women looked a little … what? Unhappy, maybe, and worried. Especially Erin.
Lizzie gestured toward the living-room sofa and chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll brew a pot of coffee and see if there’s anything sweet around here …” She turned for the kitchen.
“Coffee would be great,” Ethan said. “And it’s you we came to see.”
She stopped, turned. “Me?”
The women shared a glance. Erin spoke. “Ethan seems to think you might be able to save me from disaster.”
“Yikes. There’s a disaster?”
“There certainly is. A cake disaster. I went to finalize payment on my wedding cake today and found out the baker has skipped town.”
Lizzie let out a groan of sympathy. “But the wedding is Saturday, isn’t it?”
Erin gave a sad little sigh. “Exactly.”
Ethan said coaxingly, “And I told them that you’re unbeatable in the kitchen. And that you’re planning to leave me to open a bakery …”
Lizzie grinned, pleased. “You want me to do the wedding cake.”
Erin let out a cry. “Oh, it’s too much. Way too much to ask.” She put her hands to her pink cheeks. “I’m so sorry we bothered you.”
“Hold on, now.” Ethan tried to settle her down.
But Erin would not be “settled.” She turned to Erika. “We really have to get going. I need to work this problem out and I need to do it yesterday …”
Lizzie ached for the poor girl. “Hey, did I say no?”
Erin blinked. “But I … Well, could you? Would you?”
“I can, yes. And I would be honored. And you can relax. It’s very much doable. Mostly it’s going to be about getting the equipment I’ll need together on the fly like this. But the cake itself is no problem.”
“No
