The Emerald Hills Collection Read online

  The Emerald Hills Collection

  A Magical Novella for Every Day of the Week

  INCLUDING

  More Than Bonbons

  Mallory’s Magical Gourds

  Sheri Hits the Right Notes

  Sole Responsibilities

  Lolita’s Mirrors – NEW!

  Sheriff Guthrie & the Orange Tabby – NEW!

  Midu’s Magic

  by Judith Post

  Copyright © 2014 Judith Post

  To Lauren Abramo, for her patience.

  To Sharon Pelletier, for her hard work, enthusiasm, and suggestions to make my novels, novellas, and bundles look great.

  To Michael Prete, http://vertex10.com/, for every single one of my wonderful covers.

  And last, but not least, this collection is dedicated to the wonderful moderators and friends that I've met on Goodreads.

  MORE THAN BONBONS

  This novella is in honor of the wonderful people I've met on Goodreads.

  Thank you, PNR/UF fanatics, Making Connections, and Nexus for being so dedicated to authors--

  And for working so hard to help new writers.

  And Jen, this has chocolate and magic.

  But Ashleigh, sorry, no kickass heroine.

  Tana sighed when the last customer of the day left her candy shoppe. She'd been so busy, there'd never been time for a break. After a fierce winter, spring swept into Emerald Hills with balmy temperatures and soft breezes, and tourists followed in droves. Business was better than ever. Every merchant celebrated, Tana included, but she looked at the stack of special orders tucked under the paper weight by her cash register and rubbed her forehead. She'd be dipping chocolates overtime this weekend.

  She walked to the big, front window display, ready to turn the sign to Closed, when a man dressed in a sky-blue suit, with a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, hurried through the door. The bells clanged cheerfully to greet him as Tana flipped the sign and slid the bolt before turning to help him. The blue suit matched his eyes. Nice.

  "Sorry. Bet you hate me, but I'll hurry if you let me stay." His smile was meant to dazzle. With his long, lean body and tousled, blond hair, Tana guessed he was used to getting his way. And if he wanted to work his charm with a smile here, a dimple or two there…well, why not? If you have it, flaunt it, right?

  She glanced at the clock. Officially closing time, but what was another ten minutes? She shrugged. "There's not a lot left, but look for yourself."

  Crappy customer service, but her feet hurt and she was ready for a glass of cabernet to go with a big square of toffee. Her lack of enthusiasm didn't seem to bother him. He strolled from one glass display case to the next. "You weren't kidding. You must have been slammed today."

  Once full trays now held only two or three items.

  "Swamped. I only had time for coffee between customers." It was the friendliest chitchat she could come up with. She'd smiled at so many people today, her cheek muscles hurt.

  He frowned, obviously disappointed.

  "Do you have something specific in mind?" Tana winced at the tone in her voice, nearly as tart as her homemade lemon drops. It clearly conveyed, Choose something and get the hell out of here.

  He gave a slight smile and pulled his wallet from a back pocket. "I'll take whatever truffles are left, and someone told me that you make specialty items on order."

  Tana felt a headache coming on. Word was spreading that she could add a bit of magic to her caramels and chocolates. But then, why wouldn't it? Most store owners in Emerald Hills had a tad of enchantment up their sleeves. Fairy dust sparkled in every nook and cranny of their small town. Thea could weave peoples' life maps, charting the ups and downs of their lives' journeys. Customers brought Lily photos, for her to make specialty dolls that captured a person's personality and looked almost lifelike. And Jackson carved garden gnomes who—literally—chased off intruders. Hints of the impossible were everyday occurrences here.

  She raised a strawberry-blond eyebrow. "What do you want?" She hadn't meant for it to come out so gruff, but it was Saturday, and it had been a long week. Her patience was just about at its end.

  "I need something for a very special lady, something that will show her how much she's loved."

  Well, wasn't that wonderful? Mr. Hottie had a special someone. He didn't look the type to settle down. At least, not yet, not when he was flashing his yumminess like eye candy. Tana reached for her notepad. "Okay, shoot. Chocolates? Nougat? Caramels or fudge? Name your poison."

  He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "You probably know better than I do. It's for my great-aunt, Sheri Hudson. She told me this is one of her favorite places in town."

  Tana stopped to stare. "You're Sheri's nephew?"

  Sheri had been looking forward to his visit for months now, ever since he asked if he could spend a few days with her while he taught a seminar at the nearby university. Tana gave her head a quick shake. "You're a professor?"

  He laughed. "What? Don't I look intelligent enough?"

  She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks. Geez, she was making a great first impression. First, she was grouchy, and now she was awkward. She fumbled for words. "You don't look stodgy enough. No elbow patches on your tweed jacket. That sort of thing."

  His grin widened. "And you don't look like a shopkeeper. You look more like a temptress."

  Her jaw dropped. A lot of men admired her reddish-gold hair, green eyes, and creamy complexion. Her figure—tall and curvy—didn't turn them away either. But a temptress? He was pushing it. "I'm too grumpy to be alluring."

  "Is that so? I'll keep that in mind."

  "What do you teach?" Sheri had gone on and on about what a wonderful kid he was. At first, Tana had pictured him between ten and fifteen. Then, when Sheri mentioned he was going to teach, she pictured him as pale and bookish with glasses that constantly slid down his nose.

  He rested his elbows on the glass counter. "I have to confess. I'm not really a professor. I'm a professional photographer/journalist. I sell travel articles, and the college wanted me to do a class on it. I usually don't accept teaching offers, but it was close enough to Sheri, I thought I could combine the two."

  She pursed her lips, studying him. "You look like a world traveler. That fits."

  Laughter lit his eyes. "I'm glad you approve. Now, what should I get my aunt? What's her favorite candy?"

  "Chocolate-covered, orange strips. She only buys them as a special treat."

  "Orange strips?" His brows drew together in a scowl.

  "Candied orange peels. You simmer them in simple syrup." She reached for a pen and shot him a look. "Unless you want to try something else."

  "No, I bow to your expertise. What do you add to them to make them a special order?"

  She shook her head. "Now that's a secret. I can't tell you."

  He looked intrigued. He locked gazes with her, and she thought he was going to push for an answer, but then he backed off. "Okay, I'll accept that. When can I pick them up?"

  "On Monday, if that works for you. I make my special orders on Sundays."

  He flashed the dimpled smile. "You work seven days a week?"

  "Only during tourist season. You know the saying, 'Make hay while the sun shines.'"

  "Perfect. I'll be here. And since you work so hard, if I come at the end of the day, could I tempt you to have an iced coffee with me after you lock up?"

  She was about to say no, and he must have caught it. He hurried to say, "It would make Sheri happy if I met a few of her friends."

  Oh, he was good. Being footloose and fancy free, he'd probably had more experiences than she ever wanted to know about. But she loved Sheri, so she took a quick breath and said, "Okay
, why not?"

  He laughed. "I don't think I've had a more reluctant date, but I'll take it. See you in two days."

  * * *

  It was an old-fashioned notion, but all of the shops in Emerald Hills closed on Sundays. The shopkeepers needed one day to catch up and get organized. Most of them did what Tana was doing. They worked to get a few things ahead for the upcoming week. Sundays, for Tana, meant making special orders, as well as restocking her shop's shelves and mixing lots of batches of fudge. She only made fudge once a week, and she usually sold out of it before the door closed on Monday. Once the fudge was finished, she moved on to making other candies before starting her specialty items. Caramels, toffees, bonbons, and barks filled her display windows, along with a variety of others.

  Finally, Tana read the first special order on her list. A husband wanted a box of assorted chocolates with cream-filled centers for his wife, who'd just had twins. To say that the woman was tired and stressed would be an understatement. She needed something to pick her up and soothe her at the same time.

  As Tana read her scribbled note, the song "Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters" popped into her mind. She began humming it as she mixed the sugar, milk, and cream to form a fondant center. She sang its words as she stirred the ingredients until the sugar was moistened and she watched the candy thermometer climb to boiling point. The tune faded and switched. She hummed "Are You Going to Scarborough Fair" as she poured the mixture onto a marble slab and let it cool to lukewarm. And finally, the melody for Cecilia burst from her lips as she worked the fondant with a spatula. By the time she dipped the last chocolate, she was in a serene, upbeat mood.

  The next order was to comfort a woman's mother. Her husband had recently died. The mother's favorite candy was Turkish Delights. "Amazing Grace" filled Tana's mind as she heated water and sugar. She hummed it as she added softened gelatin to the mix. The melody segued into "I Go To The Garden Alone" when she added orange and lemon juices to the mix. By the time she poured it into a buttered pan, she was singing songs from "Jesus Christ, Superstar." When she set the pan aside to cool, she shook her head in surprise and gave a small smile. The mother would properly mourn her husband, but in time, she'd move on to embrace life and all it still had to offer.

  She hummed Disney songs through taffy-making for a six-year-old who'd broken his leg. She hummed "I Will Follow Him" and "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" while making chocolate-covered cherries for a bride-to-be. Whenever she started making special orders, the right songs for the right person always came to her.

  She finally got to her last order—the orange peel candy for Sheri, and inexplicably, the tune for "If You Like Pina Coladas" popped into her head. She blinked. This was her longtime friend, Sheri. The Sheri who was in her late forties, had never married, and whose passion was music. She played piano for town events and the organ at church. What in the world did pina coladas have to do with her? But the music filled Tana's head. As she melted the chocolate in a large, metal bowl over a pan of simmering water, the words "Oh, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch…." came to mind.

  Yikes! Tana tried to edit the music, to ask her magic if it had gone awry, but the music insisted to flood out. By the time she finished the candy, she was shaken. Sheri's nephew had ordered candy for his aunt, and Tana had a sinking feeling she was going to send her friend a box of sweet-tasting aphrodisiacs. What the hell had just happened?

  * * *

  When Nate walked in the shoppe at the end of the day, customers still milled from one glass case to another. All of her fudge flavors were gone—the pistachio, the dried- cherry, everything. But people had no intention of leaving her shoppe, empty-handed. If they couldn't have fudge, they'd settle for homemade marshmallows, caramels, or bonbons.

  Tana caught Nate's eye and pointed to the clock. The shoppe was open fifteen more minutes. People were lining up. She flew through their orders and turned the sign in her window only five minutes past official closing time. Then he wandered to the counter.

  "I have your order." She flushed as she handed it to him.

  He quirked a blond brow. "Do you get really excited about orange peels or are you happy to see me?"

  She felt the flush deepen. She could skirt around the issue, but she had a bad habit of being more honest than most people liked. "I had a strange experience when I made Sheri's candy."

  His blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I want to hear more, but let's do it over a latte. Can you leave now?"

  She untied the white apron that circled her waist and walked around the counter to go with him.

  His expression changed. His gaze roamed from her head to her feet. "Do you always wear dresses? You've got great legs. Can't blame you for showing them off."

  She sputtered. The man constantly caught her off guard. "It's not about my legs. It gets too warm in the afternoon. A dress keeps me cooler than shorts or pants."

  A teasing glint lit his eyes. "I should have known. You care more about your candies than your looks."

  "Looks fade. My candies don't."

  "Right. They just disappear."

  "But I can always make more."

  He threw back his head and laughed. "It's hard to win an argument with you, isn't it?"

  "Almost impossible."

  "Then we won't argue. Come on. I'll buy you a drink."

  They walked a block down Burgundy Boulevard to the coffee shop. Bright-colored awnings dotted shop windows. Flower boxes spilled leggy blooms to the sidewalk. Hanging baskets with more blooms dangled from old-fashioned, street lamps. The aroma of fresh-baked bread wafted from a restaurant. The scent of cinnamon and sugar drifted from the bakery. And tourists were everywhere.

  They got lucky when a family with two, small, antsy kids left an outdoor table. No one else was waiting, so Nate and Tana slid onto the empty seats. When Giselle came to take their order, she smiled at Tana. "You came on a good day. Pier made a new pate'. I think it's one of his best. It's on special."

  "We'll take it. My treat," Nate said.

  Giselle gave him an appraising look. "In that case, I'll let you pay. I usually don't charge Tana since she sends us leftover chocolates for free."

  Nate's eyes crinkled at the corners. He was more amused than offended. "I'm trying too hard to impress her, aren't I?"

  Giselle shrugged. "What man can try too hard to impress a woman? What would you like to drink?"

  When she left with their orders, Nate shook his head. "This town is a bit on the eccentric side. You realize that, don't you?"

  Tana looked at him in surprise. "Didn't Sheri tell you? There's no place like Emerald Hills. Its stardust called to us, and we came."

  He frowned, studying her. "Like in magic?"

  She pointed to a shop down the street. "Gino's Shoe Gallery. He sells tons of imported shoes, but he's almost as well known for his shoe repair business."

  "Really?" Nate raised an eyebrow. A skeptic.

  "If Gino puts new soles on your shoes, every time you wear them, you'll find a firmer foundation for your life. You'll suddenly see a new way to start a savings account, or you'll finally try for that better job, or decide not to buy the bigger house that you can't really afford."

  "All because of new soles?"

  She ignored his doubt and pointed to a shop across the street from Gino's. "Lolita's Custom Mirrors. When you look into a mirror she designs for you, you'll see the best you…and how to get it—a new haircut, different clothes, maybe you should smile more, or you'll find a new diet that works for you."

  He laughed. "You enjoy giving me a hard time, don't you?"

  Tana shrugged. "I didn't expect you to believe me. Most people don't at first, but enchantment lives and breathes here. It's a part of us."

  "Like magic wands and Harry Potter?"

  "No, our gifts are more subtle. They help people find answers."

  He studied her face. "You really believe that, don't you?"

  "It's true."

  They stopped talki
ng when Giselle came with a thick slab of pate' ringed by crackers and two glasses of iced coffee. Nate spread a few crackers and handed them to her, then spread a few more for himself. Finally, he sat back in his chair and quirked an eyebrow. "So, what happened when you made my aunt's candy?"

  Tana sighed. He wouldn't believe her, but she should at least warn him. "When I make specialty orders, songs fill my mind, songs that are specific to the person the candy's meant for."

  "What do you mean? Do you sing "Ol' Man River" when you're dipping truffles for old farts?"

  Her chin rose. Her tone went chilly, even to her own ears. "No, I meant the songs fit the person's needs. They help heal different moods."

  He cocked his head. He didn't take her seriously, she could tell. But he asked, "Did my aunt have a special need? What songs came to you?"

  "'I Like Pina Coladas' and the Righteous Brother's 'Unchained Melody'."

  "Really?" He blinked, surprised. "And what did that tell you?"

  "Your aunt's going to meet someone, and she's been wanting to for a long time."

  He shook his head. "That would be nice, but I'm not buying it. She's in her late forties. A self-proclaimed, old maid. She's in love with the church organ and any loose pianos she can find."

  Tana waved away his arguments. "It won't happen right away, not while you're here."

  "How can you tell?"

  "I heard a drift of 'Come on, baby, light my fire,' but it wasn't ready to be hummed yet. It paused, waiting, but if later this year, you get a message that Sheri's eloping with someone she hasn't known that long, don't be surprised."

  He narrowed his eyes, unsure what to make of her, she could tell. "You're an original, do you know that? I never know what to expect when I'm around you."

  Tana took a sip of her coffee. His comment didn't come off as a compliment. She decided to change the subject. "Do you enjoy teaching your class? Do you like Emerald Hills?"

  His brow rose again. "I take it you're not talking about your magic anymore."