Peppermint Fudge and Fears Read online

  Peppermint Fudge and Fears

  Candy Covered Cozy Mysteries, Book 1

  Patti Benning

  Summer Prescott Books Publishing

  Copyright 2019 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Also by Patti Benning

  Author’s Note

  Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing

  Chapter 1

  Two Christmas trees adorned the candy shop. They sat in opposite corners, their red and green lights shining through the windows to lure customers inside. Not that Candice’s Candies needed it. The store was well known in the northern Michigan town of Lake Marion. It had burned down almost three years ago, and had been opened again for only one. The repairs had gone well, and a newcomer would never have guessed at the building’s shadowed history. Even Candice Rothburg, the candy shop’s young owner, found herself forgetting sometimes, especially on busy nights like this.

  “Suri, we need a refill on the blue raspberry jellybeans,” she called out, turning her head toward the back of the building where the storeroom, kitchen, and bathrooms were located.

  “Coming!”

  Satisfied, she turned back around and hurried over to the counter, just in time to greet one of her younger customers. He had a clear plastic bag filled with jellybeans of every flavor, and he put it down on the counter with a grin. She placed it on the scale next to the register and typed in the item code, letting the computer do the math.

  “That’s two pounds of jellybeans,” she said to the boy. “Is your mom going to come in here and complain to me about how you’re spending your lunch money again?”

  “No,” he said, looking embarrassed at the memory. “My grandma sent a Christmas check early. Mom told me I could spend it on whatever I want.”

  “In that case, good choice,” Candice said with a chuckle. “Some of the holiday flavors won’t be coming back until next year, so it’s a good thing you’re stocking up. Do you want a paper bag to carry this home in?”

  She told him his total, accepted his payment, and unfolded one of the smaller paper bags for him, then watched him leave with a smile. She always loved seeing a happy customer — especially if she knew no angry parents would be coming in later. The candy shop was placed conveniently along Main Street, only a mile from the K-12 school, and a lot of children of all ages walked past on their way home. Between three and four was always a busy time for her when school was in session, but she wasn’t complaining. Sales were sales, and most of the children were polite and careful not to make a mess in her store.

  “Thanks, Suri,” she said as her new employee came out of the back with a plastic bag full of bright blue jellybeans.

  “No problem,” the other woman said. “Oh, did you see the application I left on the counter? Davey dropped off another one.”

  “I saw it and added it to the stack,” Candice said, sighing. She decided to change the subject; talking about Davey would just annoy her. “Don’t forget to get the chocolates out of their molds soon. We’re running low out here.”

  Candice and her employees made a lot of the candies themselves in the back, but they also sold a lot of the name-brand favorites. She personally thought that her own chocolates and candies were better than anything that they bought commercially, but everyone had their favorites.

  The door opened and Candice looked up. The smile that had already formed on her face dropped into a frown and she heaved a sigh. Her admirer was back.

  She was flattered, of course, but the attention was unwanted. She loved Eli, her husband, even if things weren’t quite perfect between them right now. They would work it out. She was going to stick by the vows that she had made years ago. She was comfortable with having other male friends, of course, but the man walking in the door never seemed to understand the difference.

  “Hi, Candice,” he said, shooting her a fond smile as he shut the door behind him against the cold and dark.

  “Hi, Brad,” she said, forcing herself to give him a small, tight smile of her own. He was one of her best customers, after all. “Keeping warm?”

  “Just barely. Did you see the news this morning? We’ve got another cold front coming in.”

  She nodded, comfortable with the way this conversation was going. “Sure did. I didn’t know it could get colder than this. I’m not looking forward to it.”

  She really wasn’t. With the large display windows, the cost to heat the candy shop was already astronomically high. At least the wood-burning fireplace could help keep heating costs down at the farmhouse.

  “I bet I could help keep you warm. Do you want to get dinner—”

  “Sorry, Brad,” she interrupted. “You know I’m not comfortable with what you’re about to ask me. I’m married. Now, was there something I can help you find? We’re going to be closing in about ten minutes.”

  His face fell and he sighed, but looked around the candy shop. “I’ll just get some of those milk chocolate caramels, I guess.”

  She smiled a little and went over to the shelf to place some in a bag for him. He got the same thing every time, but if she ever tried to get them ready for him before he asked in an effort to hurry him out of the shop, he would make a big show about not being sure if they were what he wanted and would then spend a while looking around the candy shop.

  He had been coming in for six months now. She knew how to handle him with minimal discomfort on both their parts. It was almost routine.

  “Here you go,” she said, handing the bag over to him. “That’ll be—”

  “Five dollars even, I know,” he said, grinning at her. “Here’s a ten. Keep the change.”

  She sighed, walked over to the register, and popped it open, taking out a five dollar bill. “You know I’m not going to keep it, Brad. But if you’re certain you don’t want it back, I’ll put it in our charity jar.”

  He waved a hand. “Go ahead. Who’s it for this month?”

  “It’s to raise money for blankets and coats for poor families.”

  “I guess they’ll appreciate it, then. Don’t let the cold get to you, Candice. It was nice to see your smiling face again. I’ll stop by again soon.”

  He winked at her, then pushed out through the door, letting a brief blast of frigid air in. She breathed out a sigh of relief when he was gone. Seeing him might be routine, but it was never pleasant. He was so relentless, and he always had an infuriating smile on his face, like he knew something that she didn’t.

  “Him again?” Suri asked from so close behind her that it made Candice jump. “Sorry. But I really don’t see why you put up with him. Men who won’t take no for an answer… well, you want to stay far away from them.”

  “I know, Suri,” Candice said tiredly. She gave her employee a fond smile, to let her know that the exhaustion in her voice wasn’t from her. It had just been a long day. “But he
hasn’t really done anything wrong except ask me out every time he sees me. I doubt I could get a restraining order for that. It would just lead to a lot of drama and gossip, and we don’t need that. As long as I keep things friendly between us but make it clear that I’m not interested in anything more than a professional relationship, I think it will be okay.”

  “I just don’t think it will lead to anything good,” Suri said, making a face. “But it’s your choice, I guess. Do you want me to start counting out the register?”

  Candice glanced at the clock. Five minutes until close now. “Sure. I’ll start tidying up.”

  They worked in silence for a few minutes, until Suri said softly, “I ended up signing up for that gingerbread house building contest after all, so I’ll see you there this weekend.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” Candice replied. “Your trip got cancelled?”

  “My…? Oh, yeah. It doesn’t matter, I’m just glad I’m able to go. It would be amazing if I won.”

  The grand prize for the gingerbread house building contest was five-hundred dollars. The two runners-up would receive gift cards to the bakery that hosted it. Candice would be happy with any of the prizes; it would just be neat to win something. “Well, may the best woman win,” she responded with a grin. She was going to try her best, just like she did with everything, but privately she thought Suri had a good chance of bringing home the grand prize. She was quite the artist, and her design was sure to blow Candice’s out of the water.

  Chapter 2

  The old farmhouse that Candice and Eli lived in was a bit southwest of town. It was nearly equidistant between Lake Marion and Maple Creek, which was perfect. Even though the candy shop was located in Lake Marion, she still spent a lot of time in Maple Creek, which was where her mother and stepfather lived. It was also the home of her mother’s deli; Darling’s DELIcious Delights.

  The drive from the candy shop to home could be a bit of a pain during winter, but as far as Candice was concerned, it was worth it. The farmhouse was warm and welcoming and perfect. It had a dark history, but she could never have been able to afford it otherwise, and it mostly didn’t bother her. During the summer months, they rented out the large pastures to a cattle farmer. The same man also used one of the fields to grow hay.

  A bit closer to the road and on the opposite side of the driveway from the house was the microbrewery that her stepfather, David, owned. Candice didn’t have much to do with that, but it was always nice to see his car parked out front and know he was there. It could get lonely, sometimes, when Eli was at work.

  Not that that had been a problem lately.

  “Hey,” she said as she pushed the front door open. She paused to stomp the snow off of her boots before unzipping them and pulling them off. Felix, her one-in-a-million male calico cat sniffed at one of the clumps of snow delicately.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Eli said. He was sitting on the couch, his laptop and a few papers strewn across the coffee table in front of him. “How was work?”

  “It was nice and busy today. I think the Christmas decorations helped a lot.”

  “Good.” He smiled at her, then turned his attention back to whatever was on his laptop screen. Candice hung her coat up on the coat tree, then went to join him.

  “Any luck?”

  He sighed. “No. I’m starting to wish I had just taken the ice cream shop back over. That wouldn’t help during winter anyway, though, I guess.”

  “Do you think you could work with that landscaping company again?”

  “I’ve already called them to see if they’re hiring any snowplow drivers, but you have to have your own truck. And I want something I can really sink my teeth into, you know? A career, not just a job.”

  “I know,” she said, biting back a sigh of her own. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been working over the past year. He’d been working a lot. But the jobs never seemed to stick. He was looking for his calling, and wasn’t happy with anything else. Privately, she thought he had been happiest back when he managed his grandfather’s ice cream shop, but whenever she brought it up, he insisted that he wanted to do something more with his life.

  “I’ve been thinking…” He hesitated, looking unsure.

  “What?”

  “Well, I was thinking of maybe starting my own business.” He shot her a grin. “I mean, how else am I going to fit into this family?”

  “I mean, you’d definitely have lots of people you could ask for help,” she said. “What were you thinking of doing?”

  “Maybe a pet treat bakery,” he said. “I wouldn’t even need my own storefront, at least not at first. I could make dog-safe ice cream and sell it through the ice cream shop, and then I could sell cookies and treats at the candy shop and the deli, if you and your mom were okay with it. I’d sell online too, and as the business grew I could begin supplying to more and more businesses in the area.”

  “That’s… that’s actually an amazing idea,” she said. She turned so her back was against the arm of the couch and her feet were propped up on his lap. “It would be your own business, just like you’ve been wanting, but it would still intertwine with everything else the family does. It wouldn’t stop you from taking over managing the ice cream shop again if your current manager quits. And it wouldn’t—” She broke off.

  He continued for her. “It wouldn’t be physically draining enough to affect my hip and leg.”

  She sighed. “Yeah.”

  Eli had spent some time training as a park ranger the year before. He had loved the job, but after only a few months had realized that the amount of physical activity it took was too much for him. He had been seriously injured when the candy shop burnt down, and even though he had recovered marvelously, he would always have a limp and somewhat limited mobility in the hip and leg that had been shattered. It wasn’t enough to hold him back from most things, but prolonged physical activity left him with an ache that couldn’t be ignored.

  “You don’t have to tiptoe around it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And you know I don’t blame you at all. You didn’t start the fire.”

  “But it happened in my store,” she muttered. It was an old argument between them. She didn’t think she would ever stop feeling guilty about it.

  “Still not your fault,” he said cheerfully. “Come on, let’s get the table set. The roast has been cooking all day.”

  She brightened at that. “It’s ready? It smelled amazing when I came in. Did you make it in the slow cooker or in the oven?”

  He moved her feet off of him so he could stand up. “The slow cooker. I think it’s one of the best gifts your mom has ever given us. I love that thing.”

  “I’ll have to tell her you said that. I feel bad I don’t use it more, but it’s hard to have the patience to wait six hours for the food to be done. Whenever I try cooking something in it, I just get hungry because of how good it smells and I end up snacking all day, then I’m not hungry at all by the time it’s done.”

  He chuckled. “Some of us have self-control, you know. I’ll go cut the roast if you want to get the plates out.”

  “Deal.”

  Even though it was just the two of them, they tried to have at least one sit-down meal a day. The dining room table had felt strangely empty when they first started their tradition, but now she liked it. The big table meant they would have room to grow — not that that would happen for a couple of years. Both of them had agreed that they wanted to be more settled in their lives before adding to their family.

  The table was also good for entertaining, which was a good thing since the family they already had was certainly big enough. They had taken to alternating between the farmhouse and her mother’s house for holidays, with the occasional Easter breakfast at Aunt Thelma’s house thrown in. Aunt Thelma wasn’t really her aunt, of course, but she was Candice’s half-sister’s aunt, so in a convoluted sort of way she was almost related. It got complicated if she thought about it too much, so she usually didn’t. Family was family, even if the
y weren’t related by blood.

  Chapter 3

  The day of the gingerbread contest was so picturesque that Candice felt as though she had stepped into a fairy tale. Every tree lining the streets of Lake Marion was decorated with lights, and snow was falling from the sky settling on the ground in a white, fluffy carpet. She even passed a horse-drawn sleigh on her way to the library, where the event was being held.

  Even if she hadn’t known this town as well as she knew her own house, the library would have been impossible to miss. A giant banner had been hung out front with 7th Annual Gingerbread House Contest printed across it in artistic lettering. The parking lot was busy, but not packed — there would be a handful of spectators, but really, watching a few amateurs make gingerbread houses for an hour just wasn’t that exciting — and a volunteer was waiting outside next to a cardboard sign cut into the shape of a gingerbread man.