Free Real Women Eat Cake: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 1) by K. P. Hilton
Authors: K. P. Hilton
Chapter 1
Betty Hitchens pulled the cake layer from her new commercial oven. Even though the fifty-year-old widow had been cooking for years, she never tired of the sticky sweet aromas. She'd taken an order for a giant wedding cake from her neighbor, Stella Watson, complete with blue and white fondant and wanted it to be the first cake she made in her new shop, Betty's Cakes. She'd been operating out of her home for the past few years and business had grown enough that she could afford the costs of a small storefront in the middle of downtown Yellow Rose, TX. She cut the test cake into thin wedges and carefully nibbled one. Pleased with the results, she had another.
Her husband had passed on half a decade previously. His government pension continued to arrive each month and, even though the amount wasn't much, it was enough for her and her then sixteen-year-old Brianna to live on. Her oldest, Bobbi, lived nearby but was married and didn't rely on her for support. After awhile, Betty grew bored of her daily routine of cooking, cleaning, and finding new hobbies to fill the hours of her days and had turned to baking. Enough of her friends thought Betty's cakes were better than most of the store-bought cakes and eventually she'd turned her avocation into a business, which she ran from her home.
Betty heard someone calling from out front. She brushed some errant crumbs from her face, wiped her hands on her apron, and went out to see who it was.
“Oh. Hello, Camden,” Betty said, smiling, still wiping her hands.
“Morning, Ms. Hitchens. Thought you might be back there,” the burly man said. He was dressed in work overalls and a faded denim shirt. "Kind of early for you to be tinkering around, isn't it?” Camden Jenkins, along with his son, were the men Betty had hired to install the cooking equipment and fixtures inside the storefront.
Betty shrugged. “I'm an early riser. After taking care of a few chores around the house, there was nothing else for me to do. So here I am.”
Camden nodded, indicating that he was still listening, even as he began inspecting his work from the day before. Now that the oven and sinks had been installed, he concentrated on a display case and shelving out in front. Besides cakes, Betty planned on making a small assortment of pastries. She and her husband had once vacationed in Montreal and she wanted to replicate some of the treats she'd fallen in love with years ago. Also, if the shop did well enough, she wanted to eventually make bread as well. But first things first.
“Morning, Ms. Hitchens,” David said, walking in. Camden's son was dressed similarly as his father and looked as eager to get to work. Betty returned his greeting and asked if either would like some of the coffee she'd brewed. Each politely declined.
“Got the furniture and other equipment for the front of the shop out in the truck,” Camden said. “Now that David's here, we'll start bringing it in.”
“That's great. I'm right on schedule to open the store first part of next week.”
Camden and David began unloading the tables and chairs. They were of a simple design and fit in with the décor of the shop, which included stained wood trim and a hardwood floor. Betty took charge of the smaller items like the mixers and cake pans as the men brought them in.
A moment later, a lanky individual with thinning hair and three days' beard growth poked his head through the front entrance.
“Hi, Shaun,” Betty said. “We're unloading some of the equipment. I wasn't expecting you to finish up the electrical work until tomorrow.”
Shaun stepped inside. He made a low noise in the back of his throat, then scratched his head as he glanced down at the floor. “Right,” he said. “About that...”
“Is something the matter?” Betty asked, not liking the sound of his voice. She knew Shaun was a straight-forward individual who was generally happy and
Betty Hitchens pulled the cake layer from her new commercial oven. Even though the fifty-year-old widow had been cooking for years, she never tired of the sticky sweet aromas. She'd taken an order for a giant wedding cake from her neighbor, Stella Watson, complete with blue and white fondant and wanted it to be the first cake she made in her new shop, Betty's Cakes. She'd been operating out of her home for the past few years and business had grown enough that she could afford the costs of a small storefront in the middle of downtown Yellow Rose, TX. She cut the test cake into thin wedges and carefully nibbled one. Pleased with the results, she had another.
Her husband had passed on half a decade previously. His government pension continued to arrive each month and, even though the amount wasn't much, it was enough for her and her then sixteen-year-old Brianna to live on. Her oldest, Bobbi, lived nearby but was married and didn't rely on her for support. After awhile, Betty grew bored of her daily routine of cooking, cleaning, and finding new hobbies to fill the hours of her days and had turned to baking. Enough of her friends thought Betty's cakes were better than most of the store-bought cakes and eventually she'd turned her avocation into a business, which she ran from her home.
Betty heard someone calling from out front. She brushed some errant crumbs from her face, wiped her hands on her apron, and went out to see who it was.
“Oh. Hello, Camden,” Betty said, smiling, still wiping her hands.
“Morning, Ms. Hitchens. Thought you might be back there,” the burly man said. He was dressed in work overalls and a faded denim shirt. "Kind of early for you to be tinkering around, isn't it?” Camden Jenkins, along with his son, were the men Betty had hired to install the cooking equipment and fixtures inside the storefront.
Betty shrugged. “I'm an early riser. After taking care of a few chores around the house, there was nothing else for me to do. So here I am.”
Camden nodded, indicating that he was still listening, even as he began inspecting his work from the day before. Now that the oven and sinks had been installed, he concentrated on a display case and shelving out in front. Besides cakes, Betty planned on making a small assortment of pastries. She and her husband had once vacationed in Montreal and she wanted to replicate some of the treats she'd fallen in love with years ago. Also, if the shop did well enough, she wanted to eventually make bread as well. But first things first.
“Morning, Ms. Hitchens,” David said, walking in. Camden's son was dressed similarly as his father and looked as eager to get to work. Betty returned his greeting and asked if either would like some of the coffee she'd brewed. Each politely declined.
“Got the furniture and other equipment for the front of the shop out in the truck,” Camden said. “Now that David's here, we'll start bringing it in.”
“That's great. I'm right on schedule to open the store first part of next week.”
Camden and David began unloading the tables and chairs. They were of a simple design and fit in with the décor of the shop, which included stained wood trim and a hardwood floor. Betty took charge of the smaller items like the mixers and cake pans as the men brought them in.
A moment later, a lanky individual with thinning hair and three days' beard growth poked his head through the front entrance.
“Hi, Shaun,” Betty said. “We're unloading some of the equipment. I wasn't expecting you to finish up the electrical work until tomorrow.”
Shaun stepped inside. He made a low noise in the back of his throat, then scratched his head as he glanced down at the floor. “Right,” he said. “About that...”
“Is something the matter?” Betty asked, not liking the sound of his voice. She knew Shaun was a straight-forward individual who was generally happy and
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