~~~~~*~~~~~

Things were always crazy at the bakery during the run up to Christmas. And of course this was exactly the time when he turned up out of the blue and flipped her life upside down.

Maggie both loved and dreaded the pre-Christmas rush. There was always a sudden surge of customers demanding items that the bakery never served the rest of the year; traditional English mince pies with a festive dusting of confectioner’s sugar, naughty mince pies (which had a secret drizzle of Brandy or Whiskey added into the mincemeat), lattice and standard pies with a plethora of festive fillings to choose from, and, of course, a variety of gingerbread items all made with the family’s secret recipe.

The kitchen–and Maggie, it seemed–took on a festive aroma that was a mixture of cranberries, apple peel, mixed spices and cinnamon. It was quintessentially Christmassy and was what kept the traditional wooden door at the front of the store in constant use during the festive season.

“Maggie, we need more pies! I just sold our last one,” a deep voice called from the front of the store.

“Okay dad!” Maggie called back as she wiped the sleeves of her cranberry red sweater across her brow and puffed out her cheeks. She surveyed the mass of pies and pastries still awaiting their turn in the oven and tried not to feel overwhelmed. She had almost caught up on the pre-orders, but the demand for the shop stock was growing. Somehow she needed to magic up another batch of pies before the customers became restless.

Maggie had been working in her family’s bakery in the small town of Silverwood, Colorado since leaving catering college.

It hadn’t exactly been her dream; at the time she’d had much higher aspirations for her life, but the ease of working with family, her fondness not only of the business, which her great-grandfather, Ernest, had started, and the town, had proved too irresistible. Years had passed in the blink of an eye, and now, according to some of the regular customers, it was as though she’d always worked there.

"Coming up!" Maggie called back as cheerfully as she could muster before rolling up her sleeves and getting stuck in.

“After all,” she said quietly to herself, “these pies won’t put themselves in the oven.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Silverwood was a small silver mining town located in southwestern Colorado, with a population of only a few hundred. Mountains, which remained snow-capped for most of the year, flanked it on one side, and although it was within driving distance of one of Colorado’s famous skiing destinations–which helped to keep the town tidy and the building facades pretty, thanks to the ever present possibility of visiting tourists–it was a quiet, sleepy place, where everyone knew everyone else, and the term ‘being neighborly’ actually meant something.

The Little family ran the bakery with pride and an awful lot of love. Over the years it’d become a staple part of the community, and had survived year after year even through recession, and one year a sugar shortage when the road out of town had become impassable in the very depths of winter.

It was an idyllic place to live for young and old alike, especially when it snowed.

Even though she’d witnessed it nearly every year for twenty-five years, the first pre-Christmas dusting of snow still sent Maggie’s heart racing, and her feet plodding straight over to the diner across the street. There she’d order the first hot chocolate of the season–with whipped cream and little pink and white spongy marshmallows–and stare out the window longingly at the mountains as they grew steadily whiter.

Maggie wasn’t a great skier, despite living in what was essentially a mountain town. She’d been a few times when she was younger, but hadn’t enjoyed it enough to make it a habit. The mountains themselves, however, seemed to have a hold over her. Their enduring beauty never failed to take her breath away, and although she was a keen painter, she’d never been able to capture their magnificence on paper.

She considered it a challenge, and she was prepared to pursue it no matter how long it took.

Despite having been to college, Maggie had returned to her home town as quiet and shy as she’d left. She made friends easily and was a pleasant person to know, but she kept herself to herself and was a bit of a loner.

Living in Silverwood suited her. There were lots of pleasant places to go walking, enough social events in town to keep life interesting, and the people she knew didn’t demand great conversation from her. They knew that she was shy and left it at that.

Although she had dreams and aspirations like anyone, deep in her heart Maggie knew that it would take a big push in the right direction to get her to leave the sleepy town.

~~~~~*~~~~~

The mad lunchtime rush gave way to a quiet afternoon in the Little bakery. As things were so quiet, Maggie didn't mind being left alone to man the register whilst her dad went on some last minute Christmas shopping around town.

Maggie loved being left alone in the bakery.

She’d reminisce about her dreams of one day having her own baking business, and although she’d never said anything to either of her parents, she had hopes that her dream might still come true. When alone she’d pretend that she was the sole owner of ‘Little Bakery’, and in her mind she’d dream up the sugary confections she’d fill the shelves with were she in charge. She could easily pass hours this way in quiet contentment.

It was while she was half day-dreaming, half wiping down the counter tops by the register that he burst into her life, throwing open the door of the store and rushing inside as the shopkeeper’s bell chimed away loudly. He stomped his feet several times on the welcome mat and coughed loudly, his chest wheezing with the action.

Maggie started slightly and stared at him, or at least what she assumed was a ‘him’. It was hard to tell under the dark beanie hat which he’d pulled low over his ears, and the layers of knitted scarf which he’d wound tightly around his neck multiple times, hiding most of his face from view. She swallowed hard and tried to conceal how his abrupt entrance had startled her.

The stranger turned and looked at her with penetrating blue eyes, which were framed by thick lashes, and bushy, fair eyebrows.

Maggie did her best not to stare.

“Hello,” she said, her voice sounding a little off. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Welcome to Little bakery. How can I help you?”

The stranger’s eyes crinkled slightly, and he unwound the loops of his scarf from around his face. In a few seconds Maggie could confirm that the stranger was in fact a ‘he’.

“I’m starving,” he said, pounding his gloved hands together, presumably to get the blood flowing back into them. It was freezing outside, and the way he seemed to be bundled up against the cold suggested to Maggie that he wasn’t used to the climate. Presumably he was a visitor from out of town staying at the ski resort, she thought.

He made his way across the store to eye up the selection in the chilled cabinet. There were a plethora of selections to choose from; some served with cream, others with a decorative sprinkling of chocolate flakes and sprinkles, and even the odd handmade chocolate truffle added in to tempt the customers.

Maggie smiled to herself as she watched him browse. She was proud of the amount of choice they were able to offer in the bakery, and she enjoyed watching the visitor’s reactions as they eyed up the bounty before them. She didn’t like to boast, but she was pretty good at her job.

The stranger’s eyes flicked up to meet hers and Maggie had to concentrate to keep herself from noisily sucking in a breath. Maybe it was the flash of icy air that’d arrived when he’d opened the door, or she’d inhaled too much confectioner’s sugar whilst dusting the mince pies earlier, but suddenly she felt lightheaded.

“You have anything savory?” he asked, his face pulling into a sideways grin. Maggie stared at him with wide eyes, telling herself over and over again that it was not okay to reach out and stroke a customer’s cheek, no matter how soft it looked.

“Er… yes,” she said, turning and pointing at the cabinet on the opposite side of the register. It was stacked with pretzels, savory plaits and pastries, as well as the obligatory baguettes and sandwiches Maggie and her dad prepared every lunch time. Even though it was early afternoon, there were still a few left to choose from.

“Ah!” The stranger said, his eyes twinkling at Maggie. “Just what I was looking for!”

Maggie smiled weakly. She didn’t know what was happening, but now her hands had started shaking. Hiding them behind the counter she hoped that it would’ve worn off by the time he’d made his selection. She wouldn’t be able to work the till with trembling hands.

“Are you new in town?” she heard herself ask and her cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment. What had possessed her to ask that, she wondered? How nosey she sounded.

“Yeah… I’m just passing through,” he replied absently, his eyes not leaving the brightly lit display cabinet. He turned his head and pointed a gloved finger at one of the piles of vegetable filled pastries that were stacked in a pyramid formation. It’d taken Maggie a good ten minutes that morning just to arrange them to her satisfaction, an action her dad had described as ‘time wasting’. “Are those veggie?”

Maggie nodded as his eyes once again met hers, and she uttered a weak sound of affirmation.

The stranger straightened and approached the counter once again. “Okay, I’ll take three veggie pastry things, a pretzel and…” his eyes darted around before settling on the pile of iced gingerbread Christmas trees next to the register. Maggie’s dad had found over the years that displaying the gingerbread next to the till had an almost ninety-eight percent success rate of a sale. Maggie put this down to the irresistible combination of cinnamon and pumpkin pie spice that made up the aroma of her gingerbread. Maggie’s dad said it was because people were greedy. “... a gingerbread tree.”

Maggie smiled. “Of course.”

It didn’t take long for her to gather his purchases, and before she knew it he was hiding his face beneath layers of his scarf once again. Maggie didn’t know why–part of her didn’t want to–but she felt kind of disappointed. She’d enjoyed serving this mysterious stranger, and as there weren’t many eligible young bachelors in town, the excitement of meeting a handsome stranger had given her a bit of a thrill.

“See ya then,” he said as he waved a hand at her amiably before grasping at the door handle and yanking the door open. He visibly winced as the icy cold wind cut into the parts of his face that weren’t covered by his hat or scarf. He went back out into the wind and snow without a backwards glance at Maggie, who watched as he fought against the wind and walked past the window until he was out of sight.

As the shopkeeper’s bell continued its chiming, Maggie stared down at the wooden floor where the stranger’s boots had left puddles of slushy, grey snow. She didn’t know why, but she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last she saw of the mysterious stranger. And, although she realized that she should know better at her age, she had a niggling feeling inside that it might not be.

~~~~~*~~~~~