Magic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 7) by Meg Muldoon
Authors: Meg Muldoon
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at their most colorful and pristine in the Central Oregon Cascades, I should have expected this many visitors to the pie shop. But somehow, this morning I had found myself blindsided by the number of customers clamoring for pumpkin pie. While I had plenty of other flavors in the case, the pumpkin seemed to be the only variety that anybody wanted.
It was plain to see that I would need to make a heck of a lot more today if I was going to keep this pie shop ship afloat.
“Tiana, can you take those Chocolate Hazelnut pies out of the left oven before preparing some gingersnap crusts? And Ian, do you think you could take over here on peeling these apples while I get to the pumpkin filling?”
Both nodded their heads calmly, almost in unison, seemingly unaffected by the stress in my voice.
I supposed both of them were used to it by now.
I wiped away a bead of sweat trailing down my temple, and got to work. I grabbed a few cans of evaporated milk and pumpkin puree, along with some brown sugar. Lucky for me – the most popular pastry this time of year was also one that didn’t require as much work or as much cooking time as fruit or berry pies. Within fifteen minutes, I had just about combined enough filling for a dozen more pumpkin pies.
And then, my phone rang.
I fumbled around for it in my apron pocket, feeling my muscles tense at the thought of who was on the other end of the line. But as I looked at the screen, I realized I had nothing to worry about.
It was just the person I’d been waiting to hear from.
“Grandpa?” I said, pressing the phone to my ear and leaning it against my shoulder while I went over and set the right oven to 375.
“Well, howdy, Cinny Bee!”
I let out a short sigh of relief – there was a lightness in his voice that I reasoned would be very hard to muster if he was wearing an orange jumpsuit.
“Where’ve you been, old man?” I said. “Here I’ve been worried the last 24 hours that the casino floor boss threw you in jail.”
That evoked a hearty laugh.
“Well, if they were gonna put me away for anything, it wouldn’t be for talking on a cell phone,” he said. “It’d be because we lit out of that casino like a couple of high rollers the other night.”
“You did?” I said, unable to conceal my surprise.
Like I said, it had been ages since I’d gambled. But one of the reasons for that was because the last time I had, I lost $63 at the very casino Warren and Aileen had gone to. Though it wasn’t much, the memory of it still burned brightly in my mind. I was under the impression that most folks didn’t end up coming out ahead from those places.
“We sure did,” Warren said.
“How much did you two win?”
“Something to the tune of 150 whole dollars,” he said.
I smiled.
It wasn’t exactly high roller status, but then again, my grandpa had an old-fashioned sense of money. He still got excited at finding a spare dime on the sidewalk.
“Well that’s wonderful, old man,” I said, watching as Tiana pushed several tins of pre-made gingersnap pie crusts in my direction. “Do you know what you’re going to spend that on?”
“A night out on the town is what I’m thinking,” he said. “You know that fancy, highfalutin restaurant, Tidal Raves ? Well, my baby and me are gonna order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
“Well, you guys deserve a fancy night out after all the work you’ve been putting in at the brewery lately.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s been a nice change of pace here. That’s for sure. But the cell phone coverage has been worse than an old, tattered blanket. That’s why it’s taken me so long to call you back, Cinny Bee.”
“Yeah, I figured it was jail or bad cell coverage,” I said. “I’m glad it ended up being the latter.”
Most of the towns along the 101 coastal highway were small, and you were lucky to get any sort of coverage in them.
I poured the pumpkin pie filling into the batter dispenser, and then
It was plain to see that I would need to make a heck of a lot more today if I was going to keep this pie shop ship afloat.
“Tiana, can you take those Chocolate Hazelnut pies out of the left oven before preparing some gingersnap crusts? And Ian, do you think you could take over here on peeling these apples while I get to the pumpkin filling?”
Both nodded their heads calmly, almost in unison, seemingly unaffected by the stress in my voice.
I supposed both of them were used to it by now.
I wiped away a bead of sweat trailing down my temple, and got to work. I grabbed a few cans of evaporated milk and pumpkin puree, along with some brown sugar. Lucky for me – the most popular pastry this time of year was also one that didn’t require as much work or as much cooking time as fruit or berry pies. Within fifteen minutes, I had just about combined enough filling for a dozen more pumpkin pies.
And then, my phone rang.
I fumbled around for it in my apron pocket, feeling my muscles tense at the thought of who was on the other end of the line. But as I looked at the screen, I realized I had nothing to worry about.
It was just the person I’d been waiting to hear from.
“Grandpa?” I said, pressing the phone to my ear and leaning it against my shoulder while I went over and set the right oven to 375.
“Well, howdy, Cinny Bee!”
I let out a short sigh of relief – there was a lightness in his voice that I reasoned would be very hard to muster if he was wearing an orange jumpsuit.
“Where’ve you been, old man?” I said. “Here I’ve been worried the last 24 hours that the casino floor boss threw you in jail.”
That evoked a hearty laugh.
“Well, if they were gonna put me away for anything, it wouldn’t be for talking on a cell phone,” he said. “It’d be because we lit out of that casino like a couple of high rollers the other night.”
“You did?” I said, unable to conceal my surprise.
Like I said, it had been ages since I’d gambled. But one of the reasons for that was because the last time I had, I lost $63 at the very casino Warren and Aileen had gone to. Though it wasn’t much, the memory of it still burned brightly in my mind. I was under the impression that most folks didn’t end up coming out ahead from those places.
“We sure did,” Warren said.
“How much did you two win?”
“Something to the tune of 150 whole dollars,” he said.
I smiled.
It wasn’t exactly high roller status, but then again, my grandpa had an old-fashioned sense of money. He still got excited at finding a spare dime on the sidewalk.
“Well that’s wonderful, old man,” I said, watching as Tiana pushed several tins of pre-made gingersnap pie crusts in my direction. “Do you know what you’re going to spend that on?”
“A night out on the town is what I’m thinking,” he said. “You know that fancy, highfalutin restaurant, Tidal Raves ? Well, my baby and me are gonna order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
“Well, you guys deserve a fancy night out after all the work you’ve been putting in at the brewery lately.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s been a nice change of pace here. That’s for sure. But the cell phone coverage has been worse than an old, tattered blanket. That’s why it’s taken me so long to call you back, Cinny Bee.”
“Yeah, I figured it was jail or bad cell coverage,” I said. “I’m glad it ended up being the latter.”
Most of the towns along the 101 coastal highway were small, and you were lucky to get any sort of coverage in them.
I poured the pumpkin pie filling into the batter dispenser, and then
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