The Bad Luck Wedding Cake (37 page)

“You’re right, girls,” he said finally. “I have acted badly. This isn’t how you treat people you love.”

The three sisters sniffed and nodded sharply.

“I have one question, though,” he said, pulling his train ticket from his jacket pocket and tearing it into little pieces.

“What makes you so certain I’m in love with your Auntie Claire?”

The sisters looked at one another and rolled their eyes. Emma said, “That’s easy, Uncle Tye.”

“Simple,” Katrina added.

“A piece of Magical Wedding Cake,” Maribeth said with a grin.

“Oh.” Tye tossed the torn ticket into the air. “You mean you figured it out because Claire and I had a Good Luck Wedding Cake?”

“No, silly.” Maribeth snorted.

“ ‘A piece of cake’ is just an expression that means something was easy. I just added the ‘magical’ and ‘wedding’ parts because it sounded right.”

“I see.” He picked up his case. “So if it wasn’t the cake, how did you figure it out?”

Emma tucked her arm in his and stepped toward the street. “Like we said, it was simple. We asked Spike.”

***

CLAIRE WOKE up wrinkling her nose. The horrible odor hit her like a fist. What in the world was that awful smell?

It took her a few minutes to get her bearings. Only the fourth morning since moving into the apartment above The Confectionary, she sometimes woke up forgetting where she was. The nightmares that haunted her sleep didn’t help the situation any. Invariably she dreamed of being in Tye McBride’s arms and she woke either crushed or angry or happy. Happy was the worst because reality was always right there waiting to dash her down.

Today, though, she woke up to something different. To a stink.

At first she suspected she was still asleep, still dreaming, and that the stench was the scent of her dreams going up in smoke. Wilhemina Peters had dropped by the day before with the news that she’d just come from the Texas & Pacific depot where Tye was preparing to depart on the afternoon train. Claire had smiled and continued her task of mixing molasses cookies. It wasn’t until she’d put them in the oven to bake that she realized she’d left out the Magic.

No surprise in that. Seemed like the Magic had been left out of a lot of things lately.

Claire’s head cleared and she frowned. She wasn’t asleep and the smell wasn’t her dreams; it was real, very real, and coming from downstairs. She glanced at the clock. Three A.M., still thirty minutes before her da arrived to help with the baking.

Thinking about Da, her tears welled up again. He’d been so sweet to her through this. Her whole family had been sweet. And supportive. Of course, it hadn’t been easy to convince the Donovan men to refrain from going after Tye and beating him to a pulp. But she’d managed to convince them this way was the best. They had listened to her. Her family had actually listened to her. She could take comfort in that change.

Claire threw off the sheets and climbed out of bed. Grabbing her robe, she tugged it on even as she started downstairs, pausing only long enough to gather up her keys.

Exiting into the Rankin Building vestibule, she halted abruptly. A light shined in the bakery’s kitchen. Had Da or one of the boys come in early? She doubted it. They were always on time, but they never, ever came in early.

Claire chewed on her lower lip and considered what to do. She left no valuables in the shop. Could someone be stealing the Magic? Maybe Reid Jamieson decided not to wait for Da to get the factory up and running. Or maybe it was simply some poor soul looking for something to eat. That might explain the smell. Perhaps this person had attempted to cook.

She had to investigate.

Quietly she tried the doorknob. Unlocked. She slipped silently into the shop and made her way to the counter where she stored a bread knife. It wasn’t much of a weapon but with any luck at all, she wouldn’t need one.

Any luck at all
. From out of hurtful memories came the sound of Tye’s voice as he spoke of his hope she would not prove fertile during their time together. She shook her head. She didn’t need tears or a distraction at the moment. A skunk of one kind or another was loose in her kitchen and needed to be dealt with.

She tiptoed toward the doorway that led into her kitchen. Raising the knife, she drew a deep breath and peeked around the corner.

Her gasp was loud enough to wake the nuns in the convent across the street.

Tye McBride stood in front of the stove. He wore one of her aprons and stirred a steaming, stinking soup pot with one of her long-handled wooden spoons. Twisting his head toward her, he flashed a smile. “Morning, sugar. Did I wake you?”

Shocked speechless, she nodded. Her heartbeat sped up to double-time and her knees began to knock.

“Sorry about that,” he said flippantly. “I had this new recipe I wanted to attempt, and I just couldn’t wait. I’m hoping you’ll try it out on me.”

What in the world was he talking about? Try it out on him?

She had to swallow three times before she could force the question past her lips. Tye paused and took a swig from the bottle of root beer he had sitting on the counter beside the stove. Then he grinned at her, but it was a nervous grin. Somehow, seeing that made her feel better.

“It’s a recipe I’ve been working on for years now, but I only discovered the perfect last ingredient yesterday. I believe I finally have it right this time. I’ll warn you up front that depending on the person, it can be a very bitter concoction to swallow. But once I got it down, well, it seems to have worked for me. I’m hoping—praying—that you’ll give it a fair shot. What about it, Claire? Will you taste it for me, Claire? Will you give it a try?”

“What is it?”

He dipped the spoon into the soup pot and drew it out filled with a molasses-dark liquid. He blew a stream of breath across the spoon’s bowl, cooling the contents. Then, his eyes glittering with a fierce emotion she couldn’t quite name, he held it out to her. “You make Magic. I took a shot at Forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?”

He nodded. “You see, I’d tried to whip this up before, but I left out the secret ingredient.”

“And that is…?”

“Guts.”

She drew back. “Guts?”

“Courage. I found out that, for me, it takes a full pound of courage in the recipe to cook up a good batch of Forgiveness strong enough to work on me. I gave myself a good dose, sugar, and I’m pretty sure it worked this time. I feel good now. Good about a lot of things. I’m done looking backward and I’m ready to go ahead. I’ve got the courage in me to trust in the future.”

Her mouth was dry and her voice squeaked. “You do?”

“I do.”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. Then he held out the spoon. “What do you say, Claire? Is your tongue in the mood for a little Forgiveness? If you like it, we can bottle up the rest. I imagine you’ll go through a lot of it, married to me.”

Married to me
. When his words finally filtered through her mind, her heart started to sing. She licked her dry lips, and said, “Hmm…it’s something to think about. What other ingredients did you put in your recipe?”

“A gallon of love. A cup of hope. Two tablespoons of spice and a pinch of good fortune—Spike clued me into that last one.”

“Hmm…”

“Please, Claire. Take a taste and forgive me? Might as well warn you, I’m not leaving until you do. If you want to bake your muffins, you’ll just cook around me.”

“I’d rather cook with you,” she said, smiling. “I’ve developed quite a taste for your particular heat.”

Leaning forward, she sipped from the spoon. A shudder racked her body. “Bleh. That’s as bitter as gyp water.”

He tossed down the spoon and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him. “You’re the baker, sweetness. I had to come to you to get the sugar.” He bent his head and took her mouth in a kiss so tender, so loving, that her heart overflowed.

She was crying when he finally lifted his head. Somberly he stared into her eyes. “I was a coward, Claire. I was afraid to risk loving again. You and Trace and the Blessings finally got it through my thick skull. You made me happy, Claire, and it scared the stuffing out of me. It had been so long. It hurt so much when I lost it. I didn’t want to risk going through that again.”

A pair of fat tears spilled from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. He thumbed them away, saying, “Fear is one of the most powerful motivators on earth, and where I was concerned, for a little while it had love beat all to hell. It makes me shudder to think of how close I came to letting the fear conquer me. Too damned close, because I hurt you. I’m more sorry about that than words can say.”

“Oh, Tye.”

“The Blessings gave me hell for it. They said that’s not how you treat the ones you love, and they were right. I always wanted you, sugar. From the first time I met you. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love. But I was too afraid to admit it. I thought my heart was dead but it wasn’t; it was frozen in fear. But loving you melted that ice, Claire. Loving you has made me feel alive again.”

He loves me
. Claire closed her eyes and swayed beneath the weight of her emotions; relief and joy and sorrow for his pain, a thousand different feelings so intense they overwhelmed her.
He loves me
.

“Say it,” she demanded.

“I love you, Claire Donovan McBride.”

Love for him filled her heart and her soul to overflowing. Her voice broke as she reached out and touched his cheek. “You are a good man, Tye McBride. A very good man. I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t.”

His smile was bittersweet. “I figured that one out, too. You have a pure heart, Claire McBride, and I know I can believe in your love. I’m sorry I was too chicken to realize it before.”

She smiled through her tears and sniffed. “You were wrong.”

Sighing, he brushed the tip of her nose with his finger. “I reckon I’ll hear that a time or two during the next fifty years or so.” Then he grew serious, pleading with his eyes and words and tone. “Will you ride the rainbow with me, Mrs. McBride? Will you stay my wife and have babies with me, make a home and family with me? Share my dream?”

Overcome, she couldn’t at first answer. That easily, he was handing her all her fantasies, her most fervent wishes.

Love melted through her like hot caramel, leaving her feeling delicious enough to tease. Drawing away, she put her hand to her breast and said, “I don’t know, Mr. McBride. You’re not saying all this just to get my Magic recipe, are you?”

He scoffed and yanked her back into his arms and nuzzled her neck. “Honey, you are all the aphrodisiac I need. Keep your danged old recipe. Now tell me yes.”

She smiled from the heart. “If I get to keep my recipe and remain the proprietress of The Confectionary…” She paused and questioned him with a look. Tye nodded rapidly and she continued, “Then yes, Tye. I’ll be proud to be your wife, and thrilled to be the mother of your children.”

“Good.” He kissed her. “Wonderful.” He kissed her again. “I’m thrilled.” He kissed her one more time, and said, “Now that everything is settled, I have only one thing to say to you, Mrs. McBride.”

“And what is that, Mr. McBride?” She batted her eyes flirtatiously. “You love me? You need me? You passionately desire me?”

“Well, that’s not exactly how I intended to say it, but yeah. All those things.”

She licked her lips and smiled a siren’s smile. “So, how did you plan to say it?”

He shrugged, and glanced away from her. “Well, I was gonna say…” He shot her a leering grin. “Woman. Get your muffins in the oven and your buns in my bed.”

She hit him with a raspberry tart.

The best kind of good luck is to be lucky in love
.

EPILOGUE

CLAIRE ADDED A CUP of honey to the brew cooking on the stove in The Confectionary’s kitchen. It was the first time she’d visited the bakery since selling it to Lars a month earlier, and while she was happy to pitch in for a few days while he stayed home to help Loretta with the new baby, she’d rather be home at the Magic Lady Ranch. She enjoyed baking and socializing with the customers, but as she had realized shortly after moving to the ranch, she loved working with Tye. She was awfully glad she’d convinced him to forgo the cattle in favor of raising horses.

“You were right, Mama,” she said softly, stirring her brew. Freedom was choice, and her choice to sell The Confectionary had given her a sense of independence as pleasing as the choice to build the business to begin with.

She and Tye had moved into the house Trace had designed for them four months ago, right before the first cold spell of winter, and already the place felt like a home. Having family around was a big part of that, she knew.

Tye and Trace’s grandmother and sisters and their families had traveled from Charleston to spend part of the winter in Texas, and they split their time between Willow Hill and the ranch. The McBride family reunion had been an event the entire city continued to talk about, considering the Blessings had chosen to mark the occasion by setting off fireworks a little too close to a storage shed containing a keg of gunpowder. The family tradition of good luck held, in that no one was injured in the mishap, despite Maybelle Davis’s claims.

Hers had been one extremely ugly hat, anyway, Jenny and Claire had agreed.

Claire dipped a spoon into her brew for a taste. The honey had helped but it wasn’t quite there yet.

Hearing the swing of the back door, she turned with a smile. Tye strolled into the kitchen rubbing his hands in an effort to warm them. “Hello, beautiful,” he said, bending down to give her a kiss on the cheek. He removed a letter from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Letter from Peggy,” he said before glancing into the soup pot. “Whatcha cookin’? Smells like ambrosia to me.”

“Just a new recipe I’m working on,” she said absently. The letter from her mother distracted Claire. The decision to build the Magic factory along the Texas coast rather than in Fort Worth had been tough for her to accept. Though she had recognized the business sense of it, she had mourned the Donovan clan’s removal to Galveston. She missed her family desperately.

Peggy Donovan’s weekly missives were a balm to that particular sadness. Her mother always entertained, and today’s letter was no different. Scanning the page, Claire gasped a laugh, then said, “Listen to this, Tye. Mama says that when Mr. Barnum’s circus came to Galveston, Reid Jamieson had a very loud and very public fight with his father, then he ran off with an acrobat.”

Tye snapped his fingers. “Dadgum, that reminds me. That trapeze I ordered for the bedroom came in last week. Remind me to get by the mercantile and pick it up before we head home.”

Claire didn’t bother to comment on his questionable humor. She had already read past the next three paragraphs containing news of her family. “Brian and Cynthia are back from their honeymoon. Patrick and Eloise have decided to spend the winter in Bavaria. He’s apparently enamored of strudel.”

“More likely he’s found a new market for Magic,” Tye observed. “The man is truly a born salesman.”

“
Hmm
…” she replied, finishing her letter. “Oh, dear. My parents met Jenny’s mother’s ship when it docked in Galveston. Monique is resting at their house for a few days before making the final leg of her trip home. Mama says Monique brought an organ grinder’s monkey to give to the girls.”

Tye laughed loud and hard at that one. “I want to be at Willow Hill the day she delivers that particular gift. Trace is gonna love it.”

“A monkey might finally get you off his trouble list for bringing Ralph into the family. Every time I see him he goes out of his way to say what a menace that dog is.”

“So what? He calls his own children Menaces. I can’t believe I haven’t broke him of that habit yet.” Tye licked the spoon he’d just dunked in the soup pot. “Honey, what is this stuff? It’s pure heaven. Tastes almost as good as you do.”

Claire glanced down into the soup pot. Retrieving a clean spoon, she gave the mixture a thorough stirring, then leaned over and sniffed. “It smells good, too, doesn’t it? It reminds me of you.”

Tye put his hands around her thickened waist and tugged her back a step. “Don’t get so close there, sugar. Don’t want to burn the baby.”

She thunked his hand with the spoon. “My belly’s not that big yet.”

“Give it another month.”

“You say a word about elephants and you’re a dead man, McBride.”

He swiped her spoon and dipped it into the pot, drinking down another spoonful. “
Mmm…mmm
. I do believe I could drink this stuff by the gallon. What is it?”

“I’ve been playing with the recipe for Magic. I thought it might be time to add a new recipe to the family cookbook.”

“This is an extract? Like Magic?”

“Yes. It has Magic for a base, but I added a few of my own ingredients. I’ve been playing with it for a few months, and I’ve about decided it just can’t get any more perfect.”

“It sure does taste perfect.” He stopped and sniffed the air. “Seems like you took all the stink out, too.”

She smiled sweetly and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Tye took advantage of the opportunity to ply her with a deliriously breath-stealing kiss. “Could you turn the fire down low and keep it simmering for a while, sugar? I’ve a mind to put one of those trapezes in the apartment upstairs, and I could use your help figuring out exactly where to hang it.”

“Always glad to assist, sir,” she replied primly, then spoiled the effect by answering his wiggled brows with a wicked wink.

Tye crooked his head toward the soup pot. “Seriously, though, it won’t hurt your brew to simmer for a bit? I know this kind of creation takes work, and I don’t want to ruin it for you. I can wait to take you upstairs. Five minutes or so, anyway.”

Claire laughed and caught his hand. “Husband dear, you can’t ruin this recipe, not when you are its inspiration.”

“Inspiration? I like the sound of that.” Arching a curious brow, he asked, “What are you calling thus stuff again?”

“It’s Magic plus a whole lot more. I’ve decided to call it Love.”

“Love.” Tye pursed his lips and thought about it a moment. Then he nodded derisively. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

Wrapping his arms around his wife, he added, “After all, the only potion more powerful than Magic is Love.”

The End