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Baker's Bob: River's End Ranch, #16
Baker's Bob: River's End Ranch, #16
Baker's Bob: River's End Ranch, #16
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Baker's Bob: River's End Ranch, #16

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Miranda White loves her job as a baker at River's End Ranch. She's been there a year, and the only fly in the ointment is Bob, the chef for Kelsey's Kafé, who picks a fight with her every single morning. December on the ranch doesn't only bring skiers and snowmobilers, it also brings cookies. And at River's End, cookies mean Miranda.


Bob Blakely is clueless about women, and he knows it. Teasing Miranda every morning about the amount of chocolate chips in her cookies seems to be the best way to get her attention. When Kelsi Clapper invites them both to dinner one night, Bob sees his chance to let her know how he feels.

 

Will Miranda be able to see past his tormenting? Or will she choose to spend another Christmas alone?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 16, 2021
ISBN9798201618377
Baker's Bob: River's End Ranch, #16

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    Book preview

    Baker's Bob - Kirsten Osbourne

    Chapter One

    Miranda White had already been up for over two hours. It was just past five in the morning, and it was a typical day for her. She stacked the cookies she’d made for the café into a huge bakery box, mumbling under her breath. Bob had better not complain about these cookies. They’re perfect just like they are. I swear I’ll stick one up his nose if he starts in on me this morning.

    She taped the box shut before pulling on her warm winter coat. December at River’s End Ranch had never been warm. It had never even been moderate! Idaho was not the place to live if you were a wilting flower where snow was concerned.

    She pulled on gloves and wrapped her scarf around her neck. Picking up the bakery box, she stepped out into the cold wind. Trudging through six inches of snow to deliver cookies that were going to be griped about when she arrived was not her idea of fun. Do I tell him how to make a burger? Of course I don’t. But there he is...grumbling about the way I make my cookies. My cookies are perfect just as they are!

    By the time she’d reached Kelsey’s Kafé, she’d worked herself into a true anger. She was done taking any flak from that man concerning her cookies. She’d do what she did best, and he could do what he did best. It was a simple as that.

    She was ready for a fight when she pushed open the door of the café, walking straight to the counter and setting the box down. Morning, Kelsi! I brought your cookies.

    Kelsi grinned at her. Thank you so much.

    Miranda eyed Kelsi. You look very happy this morning.

    Kelsi sighed happily. I just love Christmas. Can’t you feel the love in the air?

    Sure?

    A voice from the kitchen bellowed, Is that Miranda? I need to see those cookies before she leaves!

    "The cookies are perfect, Bob! You need to get off my back!" Miranda shouted back at the cantankerous chef.

    Bob came out of the kitchen, and without even a word of greeting, he opened her bakery box. He picked up one of the cookies and counted the chocolate chips. "Twelve. There are twelve chips. How many times do I have to tell you that you need fifteen? We have a business to run here, and we do not need skimpy cookies."

    It was all Miranda could do not to climb over the counter and hit him. "My cookies are perfect just the way they are. They don’t need more chocolate chips! I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this. I don’t tell you how to cook, and you don’t tell me how to bake. Comprende?"

    "This is my café. People expect the food to be held to a certain standard. These cookies are sub-standard." He folded his arms over his chest, glaring at her.

    Miranda closed her eyes and counted to ten. There are days when I want to hit you over the head with my rolling pin, Bob Blakely!

    And there are days when I want to force feed you your inferior chocolate chip cookies! So what? Bob leaned onto the counter between them. Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Miranda?

    I’m trying to get you to see reason. People don’t count chocolate chips in their cookies. Only you do that. Real people eat the cookies, and they enjoy the combination of flavors. They don’t need to be beaten over the head with chocolate!

    Bob looked at Kelsi. Tell Wade we need a new baker. This one is obviously unwilling to accept constructive criticism.

    Kelsi bit her lip, obviously trying not to laugh at the two of them. Do you want breakfast this morning, Miranda? I can have Bob whip something up for you before you head back to the bakery.

    Miranda smiled sweetly. That would be really nice. I’ll have two eggs over medium, hash browns, bacon, and orange juice.

    Bob turned and walked to the kitchen, mumbling under his breath. With arsenic on the eggs. Got it.

    I heard that! Miranda called to Bob.

    You were meant to! Bob called back.

    Miranda took one of the stools at the counter, shrugging out of her coat. "I don’t know how you can work so closely with that man and not murder him."

    Kelsi shrugged. He’s not that bad when you’re not around.

    Hard to believe. Miranda took the juice Kelsi put in front of her. How are you feeling? You’re really starting to show.

    Kelsi turned to the side, putting her hands on her belly. I’m huge! I love every second of it. I mean, my feet hurt, but who cares? I have this amazing little girl growing inside me.

    Have you and Shane picked a name yet? The last Miranda had heard, Kelsi was calling the baby Wilhelmina, but it was Herberta before that, and Shania before that.

    Kelsi frowned. Not yet. He’s killing me. He doesn’t like any of the names I pick! I’m growing her. I should get to pick the name, right?

    Miranda silently agreed with Shane. All of the names Kelsi chose were ridiculous. You should definitely have a say in the name of your child.

    Kelsi glared at Miranda, obviously catching her caveat in the statement. Well, Zsa Zsa and I like my names just fine.

    Zsa Zsa? Miranda couldn’t help but grin. That one is just as special as all the others.

    I like it! Doesn’t it make her sound glamorous?

    Thankfully Bob came out with her breakfast then, putting it in front of her. He stood and watched her pick up her fork. I’m not going to eat with you watching me, Bob.

    I think you’re the most stubborn woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet.

    Coming from you, that’s a compliment. Go away, Bob. I’m tired of your bad attitude and complaints. She took a bite of the eggs, sighing. What seasoning did you put on these? The eggs were amazing, as was everything Bob cooked. If he wasn’t such a marvelous chef, she’d have hired a hit on him months before. He made her that crazy.

    "Like I’m going to give you my secret." Bob grinned as he turned away from her. Sometimes these short moments in the morning when he got to torment Miranda were the highlights of his day.

    Someone forgot to teach you manners, Bob Blakely! Miranda watched as he walked into the kitchen without another word. That man would make a saint start cussing.

    Kelsi grinned. This is true. Very true. You should come to my house for dinner and card games tonight. It’s been a long time since we had anyone over.

    Miranda shrugged. Sounds like fun. Don’t forget my early bedtime, though.

    Mine is early too. Let’s start at four.

    I’ll bring dessert.

    Kelsi’s eyes widened. Zsa Zsa likes sugar and a lot of it.

    When Miranda was finished, she leaned forward so she could drop her voice. Find out what Bob puts on his eggs.

    Kelsi giggled. The seasoning?

    Yup. I have to know.

    Miranda found herself grinning on her way back to the bakery. A good fight with Bob was the perfect way to get her blood pumping in the mornings. She’d have to take a different kind of cookie to the bakery tomorrow. That way he wouldn’t be able to complain about the chips. Her eyes widened as she came up with the perfect thing. She’d prep them today and bake them first thing in the morning. Bob would have a fit!

    BOB LOVED DAYS THAT started with fighting with Miranda. At first, the chocolate chip thing had been real, but after trying one of her cookies, he had to agree, they were perfect as they were. Now—well, it was just fun to torment her.

    He was working on his special of the day — Creole shrimp, dirty rice, and garlic bread — when he noticed Kelsi talking to Bridget, the nurse who ran the first aid station and her sister, Kaya. Kaya wasn’t usually up at this hour. What were they talking about? They had their heads together and all three were giggling.

    Whatever. It didn’t matter.

    After the sisters had left, Kelsi popped her head in the kitchen. You should come to supper tonight, Bob. Might be fun to do card games.

    Bob frowned at her. I guess that’s okay. Remember I need to be to bed early though. Food doesn’t prep itself.

    That’s fine. I’ll make my famous enchiladas.

    Bob shook his head. No thanks. You know I prefer my own cooking. I’ll bring something for supper.

    Kelsi shrugged. More power to you. I’d rather take a nap between work and supper anyway. It’s good for Zsa Zsa. I’ll see you at four.

    Bob nodded, going back to cooking. He hated when he ran out of his special early in the day, and his dirty rice was popular.

    MIRANDA CHANGED OUT of her white baker’s uniform and into jeans and a sweater for the evening at the Clappers’ house. She hadn’t been invited there before, and she was excited to get out and spend time with people. She’d been at the ranch for almost a year, but working as hard as she did made it hard to make friends.

    She’d only been out on one date since coming to the ranch, and that was with Andrew, the engineer. She wasn’t sure why, but they hadn’t clicked, and she’d never gone out with him again.

    Oh, there were definitely people she’d made a bond with. Bridget the Midget came to mind. The nurse came into her bakery every single morning for a sweet. They’d become fast friends, and Miranda loved it when Pastor Kevin came by to choose a special treat for his sweet, but slightly insane, wife.

    She drove her old beat-up VW Beetle into town, smiling as she patted the steering wheel. She didn’t know what it was about these cars, but she’d loved them since she’d played punch-buggy in the backseat of the car with her

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