Read Online The Baker's Daughter by Sarah McCoy - Free Book Online Page A

Elsie’s arm and opened the door; the strains of festive violin spilled out to the alley. “Come, Günther.”
    Kremer obeyed and followed behind.
    The boy in the cage was silent. Elsie wanted to look over her shoulder one last time but kept her eyes forward for fear of being turned to a pillar of salt.

ELSIE’S GERMAN BAKERY
2032 TRAWOOD DRIVE
EL PASO, TEXAS
NOVEMBER 10, 2007
    A Friday wedding kept the bakery busy the rest of the week so Reba came back Saturday, determined to get her quotes and, perhaps, a few more lebkuchen.
    When the bell over the door jingled, Jane turned from the shelf of hot loaves and rolls. “Well, lookie here. Good to see you.” She came round the register and hugged Reba.
    Shocked stiff at first, Reba quickly relaxed in her embrace. The scent of Jane’s perfume—honeysuckle and sandalwood—reminded her of childhood summers at the beach. She and Deedee spent whole days snacking on sweet flower stems and building driftwood castles on the dunes.
    â€œYou too,” she said and rocked back on her heels, eager to shake off the nostalgic ache.
    She hadn’t returned any of Deedee’s calls since Riki’s proposal. Each time Deedee rang, Reba convinced herself the timing wasn’t right; she was too busy to chat; she’d call back later, then didn’t. The weeks added up, and soon so much had happened that it seemed a daunting task to talk at all—too much to cover in a single conversation. I’ll e-mail Deedee tomorrow, she promised herself.
    â€œYou’ve been busy?” she asked Jane.
    â€œYep, a little gal we’ve known since she was in diapers hitched up witha feller in Cruces. We do wonderful wedding cakes.” Jane winked. “Give us the date of yours and we’ll have it ready.”
    â€œIt’d be stale by the time I got around to it,” said Reba.
    â€œWe’ll double the fondant. Locks it up airtight. The inside keeps light as a feather. Honestly. One of our brides kept a piece in her refrigerator—not even the freezer—until her third anniversary and said it tasted as good as the day she married! And that’s no bull.”
    A laugh popped up Reba’s throat, and she liked the sound of it. “I bet they had wicked stomachaches that night.”
    â€œMaybe so, but they sure as heck didn’t go to sleep empty.” Jane turned to the kitchen. “Mom! Reba from
Sun City
is here for the interview.”
    A Mexican man sat at a café table with a gooey chocolate twist and a cream coffee.
    â€œThis is Sergio,” introduced Jane. “He’s a regular.”
    Sergio nodded.
    â€œYou need any more sugar, suga’?” she asked.
    â€œI got all the sweetness I can handle.” His heavy Spanish accent made the sentence musical.
    Reba felt a sudden undercurrent in the room like when she rubbed her socked feet along the carpets in the winter. “How long has he been coming?” she asked Jane and took a seat.
    â€œHmm—how long have you been eating my rolls, Serg?”
    â€œSince you started counting your mama’s nickels and dimes.” He dipped his pastry in the coffee.
    Jane laughed. “That was a test, and he did a good job slipping the noose.”
    Reba’s muscles tensed slightly at the idiom.
    â€œSince I was nineteen,” Jane continued. “I remember the first time he walked in—didn’t speak a lick of English, never mind German. He pointed at a roll and handed me change, half of which was in pesos.” She slapped her thigh.
    â€œThat’s a long time. I’ve never known anybody outside my family that long,” Reba said.
    â€œTime sneaks up on you. You’re still young, you’ll see.” Her gaze drifted to Sergio, then quickly back to Reba. “Mom will be out in a minute.”
    On Jane’s way to the kitchen, she stopped to hand him a napkin. Though he hadn’t asked for one, he took