Read Online Always the Baker, Finally the Bride by Sandra D. Bricker - Free Book Online

girl and pulled her along.
    “Let go!” the child cried, wincing and flailing her arms at the woman in slaps that never quite hit their target. “Let go of me!”
    “I caught this ragamuffin pawing through the leftovers on our room service cart,” Mrs. Montague explained as Emma joined them at the desk.
    “Let go of my
eeeeeear
,” the girl squealed as she wriggled and twisted in a jagged circle until she managed to escape the woman’s grip. “Dang!” she groaned, rubbing her ear.
    Glaring at the child, Mrs. Montague spoke in quiet, unmistakable syllables. “I hope someone will call her parents before she gets into some real trouble.”
    “Look, I’m sorry,” the girl said. “It smelled good and I couldn’t help myself.”
    “Well, someone should have taught you to try harder.”
    “I’m . . . 
sorrrry
.” It almost seemed like she’d choked on the word. “I won’t do it again.”
    “See that you don’t.” The woman shook her head at Emma before glancing at the front desk manager. “You’ll call her parents, won’t you?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Mrs. Montague adjusted her large designer handbag and headed off toward the front door, her high heels clicking on the tile floor, the child she left behind doing a cartoonish impression of her as she went.
    “Hey,” Emma said sharply, and the girl stopped in her tracks. “What were you doing going through the room service cart?”
    “You answered your own question,” she snapped, pushing a mass of tight, reddish-brown curls away from her face. Emma noticed a smear of what looked like barbecue sauce or ketchup on the side of her chin.
    “Don’t be smart,” she said as she wiped it away. “What’s your name?”
    “You first,” the girl snarled, backing up.
    “Emma Rae Travis.”
    “You work in this dump?”
    Emma glanced at the manager before she replied, “I’m the baker. Now it’s your turn. What’s your name?”
    “Hildie.”
    “Hildie. That’s pretty.”
    “It’s stupid. Sounds like an old southern fart.”
    Emma couldn’t help herself, and she popped with laughter. “Hildie what?”
    “Just Hildie.”
    “And how old are you, Just Hildie?”
    “How old are
you
?”
    Emma narrowed her eyes. “I’m guessing you’re, what, around ten?”
    “Eleven!” she corrected.
    “All right. Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me, eleven year-old Just Hildie, what room are you in, and where are your parents?”
    “Well . . . I . . .”
    “Emma!”
    She pivoted toward the call and saw Audrey make her way into the lobby behind Kat, who waved her arm and grinned from one ear to the other. Tomás, one of the day shift bellmen, pushed a loaded brass cart behind them.
    “Hey!” the manager called, and when Emma turned back around, Hildie had disappeared around the corner and up the stairs.
    “Find out who her parents are,” Emma told him before hurrying across the lobby to greet her friends.
    The closer she got to her, the more profoundly Emma felt the impact of Audrey’s beauty. With her platinum blond hair, voluptuous curves, and catlike eyes, she looked like anupdated version of a 1940s pinup girl. And Kat, Audrey’s former assistant, looked like a fresh-faced model in an ad for peach shampoo or some great new minty toothpaste.
    “Look at the two of you!” Emma exclaimed as they exchanged embraces. “Together again, and walking through the doors of The Tanglewood Inn.”
    “It’s so good to be back,” Kat said with a wide grin. “And wait until you see your dress!”
    Audrey beamed, her full red lips stretched out into a perfect smile. “Let us get checked in and you can come up to the room for a fitting.”
    “That works!” Emma replied. “Half an hour?”
    “Perfect.”
    Kat followed Audrey toward the desk, then stopped abruptly and turned around. “Emma, is Fee in the kitchen?”
    “She is. I’ll bring her with me.”
    “Great!” Kat wrinkled her nose and shot Emma a crooked grin. “It’s so good to