The cowboy and the pastr.., p.1
The Cowboy and the Pastry Princess, page 1
THE COWBOY AND THE PASTRY PRINCESS
ROYAL OAK RANCH SWEET WESTERN ROMANCE
BOOK 2
ELLE RUSH
SBD ENTERTAINMENT
Copyright © 2023 by Deidre Gould
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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BLURB
Joni Malone has been baking since she was a teenager, and it took her years to save enough to open her own bakery. Now she has a chance to put Flour Power on the map by winning top honours on Canada’s Best Recipes. Her only real competition is, surprisingly, a handsome cowboy from her hometown.
* * *
Paul Lawson threw his Stetson into the ring and was selected as one of twelve finalists for the national cooking competition. The full-time cowboy and passionate part-time baker is taking a break from his duties at his family’s Royal Oak Ranch, and he’s not about to let a gorgeous pastry chef stop him from achieving national muffin glory.
* * *
Even though the two of them are going head-to-head in the kitchen, can they find a way to a sweet ending together?
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
About the Author
Looking for more small-town romance?
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Also by Elle Rush
CHAPTER 1
“Oh no, not more cake!”
“Words I never expected to hear from my family,” Paul Lawson said as he set a tray in the middle of the dining room table. It was his first attempt at baking a non-chocolate brownie, and he needed critical feedback. “And it’s not a cake. It’s a pumpkin pie blondie.”
“Will you be making it for Canada’s Best Recipes?” Benton, his youngest brother and second youngest sibling, asked.
“I’m considering it.” Paul ran a hand through his short brown hair, dislodging a small cloud of flour. Baking used to be something he did to relax. Now he was stressing as he tried to round out his dessert repertoire since he had no idea what the judges were going to ask for next.
He didn’t even know which people were going to be judging him. When he’d applied to the Canada’s Best Recipes website with a video audition and three written recipes the previous winter, it had been on a whim. He’d been at loose ends on the Royal Oak Ranch, trying to decide what he wanted to do next. With his father running the family property and his oldest brother acting as the ranch’s assistant manager, there wasn’t any place for him to grow. And with him, his younger brother Benton, and his baby sister Shannon all working, there was hardly enough work for a full-time job over the winter. He loved being a ranch hand, but he knew he was capable of more.
He could have picked up more construction work since he was a fair hand with a hammer. His occasional boss Freddy Turnbull was complimentary of his work, but his heart wasn’t in it as a vocation. Still, it was another paycheque and another option, at least.
Paul knew he was capable of baking. He was locally well-known for it, with his muffins and slices selling out at craft shows all over the south-east corner of the province. He’d been toying with going after the baking contract for the local diner when their current supplier quit, but that opportunity had been snapped up by a new business in town before he’d had a chance to make his move.
Then Benton had shown him the online ad for Canada’s Best Recipes, a nation-wide contest for professional and amateur cooks and bakers offering the winner a cookbook contract and a cash prize. With tons of compliments from friends and family under his belt and nothing to lose, Paul had sent in his application and promptly forgotten about it when calving season rolled around in the spring.
He never thought that a rancher from Manitoba would make the cut for a nation-wide cooking show. But he had, and he wasn’t going to back out now.
“I’m sure it will be delicious,” his mother said. The Lawson matriarch waggled her fingers until he passed her the cake knife. “It comes out nicely with barely any crumbs. And the top has that glossy, crunchy texture. It looks good, Paul.”
“Since it has pumpkin, does it count as a serving of vegetables?” Shannon asked as she held out her plate. “Because I love you, big brother, but if I have to deal with any more vegetables today, I’m going to go on strike.”
“It’s a dessert. It has sugar in it. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Then please cut me a big piece, Mom. Clay and I have a lot of work to do on the website tonight,” she begged.
“Me too, Marjorie. The old man wasn’t slacking today either,” his dad said.
His mom cut the entire pan into six large pieces. If his other brother had been home, she would have cut eight with a leftover piece, but Tyler’s absence meant everybody at the dinner table got an even portion. After putting in a full day, every member of the family was ready to refuel and then rest for the evening before getting up at dawn the next day and doing it all again.
Shannon and his mother were up to their elbows in garden produce, pickling, canning, and dehydrating their backyard crops as the various vegetables ripened. Then in the evenings, Shannon switched into business mode as the manager of the Royal Oak Ranch’s Dude Ranch Experience, the family’s newest venture.
His father Daniel, Benton, and Paul’s oldest brother Clay were out in the fields all day, moving cattle and mowing pastures to bale hay. They’d need a lot to make it through the upcoming Manitoba winter. The days were still warm at the moment, but once the sun went down, the first hint of fall was making itself known in the September evenings. It wouldn’t be long until the shorter days of winter would give the family a much-needed rest after a summer full of dawn-till-dusk workdays.
Silence reigned as everybody dug in. The only sound in the dining room was the clink of silverware on plates.
“Tyler is going to flip when he tries this,” Clay said. “If he doesn’t try to convince Scarlett to put it on the diner’s menu this fall, I’ll muck stalls for you for a week.”
“I’m not going to take that bet. Tyler tries to convince her to put every dessert he tries on the menu.” There was a part of him that was convinced his older brother was engaged to a woman who owned a restaurant just to have free meals.
“Clay’s right. This is excellent,” his father agreed.
Paul relaxed for the first time since he’d stepped into the kitchen that afternoon. His dad was the ultimate pumpkin pie snob. If he was giving the slice his seal of approval, the judges should be bowled over.
“What time do you have to leave for Regina tomorrow?” his dad asked.
“I’ll be on the road at five. It’s about a three-and-a-half-hour drive, so that gives me an extra thirty minutes. They want everybody at the production studio by nine to start filming at nine-thirty,” Paul said. “We’re going from the eight regional finalists to the two contestants who get to the Nationals.”
And he was determined to be one of the final two. He was certain he was the second most shocked person on the planet to learn he’d qualified to participate in the Canada’s Best Recipes Prairie Division.
He figured the most shocked person lived twenty minutes away from the Royal Oak Ranch. Another regional finalist, Joni Malone, had opened Flour Power Bakery in the neighbouring town of Hopewell earlier in the year. From what Paul had heard, Joni was stunned to discover that one of her competitors lived up the road. Then she’d been speechless when she discovered that Paul’s cornbread muffins had outsold hers at the local summer festival.
“He’s frowning. He must be thinking about a certain baker,” Clay teased.
“He’s breathing. He must be thinking about a certain actress,” Paul retorted.
“Of course I am. My girlfriend is fantastic. But why are you thinking about Joni? Are you worried that she’ll knock you off in the first round?”
“I’m lamenting the fact that we can’t carpool to save gas. But spending four hours in a car with that woman would be torture. After what she did, I don’t think she’s somebody I want to get to know,” Paul said.
Joni Malone had opened her bakery in Hopewell at the beginning of summer. The newcomer had shaken up the town in all kinds of ways. The first was when she’d leased a commercial property that had been fixed up for a local resident who wanted to open his own business. Paul didn’t know what exactly happened, but his friend would have made a success of it if he’d had the chance. Whether Joni had pressured the building owner to give it to Flour Power instead of Boiko’s Ukrainian Take-Out or had submarined her potential competition in another way was still unknown. There had been another rumour that Joni had scooped the baking contract for Ruth’s Place, but Scarlett St. James put those stories to rest, saying that her former supplier had put in her notice before Joni contacted her.
Either way, Flour Power was making its mark
in Hopewell as a big fish in a new pond. The new business might be thriving, but it was throwing everybody else into upheaval.
“Speaking of the bakery building, have you heard from Rob? Has he found another place?” his dad asked.
“Not lately. Last I heard, he’s still operating out of his home.” Yes, Paul was holding a grudge. He had been part of the crew that had renovated the property in Hopewell. The intention had been for his friend to use the kitchens in the back to prepare the food and to sell it out of the storefront facing Main Street. Instead, Flour Power Bakery threw its grand opening in the nearly brand-new building he’d worked so hard on.
His mother set down her fork and cleared her throat, a move from his childhood that meant the current topic of conversation was over. “This recipe will do the Lawsons proud, Paul. Make sure you get a decent night’s sleep so you look rested for the camera.” She grinned. “I can’t wait to watch the show and see how you bake when other people are watching. I’ll bet there’s a lot less mess.”
Paul snorted. “You’re in for a surprise. I think the production crew will have to name a vacuum after me.”
“You’ll be great,” Shannon said loyally. “By this time tomorrow night, you’ll be a national competitor. My brother, the celebrity chef.”
“That’s not quite how it works, Shan.”
“Close enough for you to have to bake cookies for me on demand.” She excused herself from the table, tying her chocolate-brown hair back in a ponytail. “I need to spend an hour or two dealing with the Dude Ranch Experience website. I’ve had a couple of emails from people inquiring about having a bachelorette party out here.”
“That’s exciting,” his dad said.
“I think it’s more about the fact that Marki Queen found herself a cowboy boyfriend out here and that he has brothers,” Shannon told him, grinning broadly. “But I’ll get some more details.”
Paul stifled a yawn. He’d spent all day on horseback in the fresh air, and although he was used to the exercise, it was still hard work. “I’m going to crash early. I’ll try not to wake you in the morning.”
“You’ll leave them all in the dust, Paul,” Clay said encouragingly.
“I’ll give it my best.” And he’d hope it would be enough to knock Joni Malone out of the running.
CHAPTER 2
Joni Malone touched up her lipstick, gave her short, black hair a quick brush, and then washed her hands again. She was certain there was a little bit of flour paste stuck under her fingernails, but she couldn’t get it out. She was on a break after a four-hour cooking marathon where each contestant had to create a three-dish meal according to the judge’s themes. The contest’s standard set up meant every round consisted of a side dish, a main course, and a dessert. This week, the judges had asked for a fritter, a chicken-based entrée, and a fruit-free dessert.
She stepped aside when another woman approached the sink and laughed in sympathy as the pastry chef from Swift Current complained about sticking to everything after a bag full of egg whites and icing sugar had split open on her. “How did you do, Sue?” Joni asked.
“I think I used too much red food colouring in my peppermint meringues. They’re supposed to have pink swirls. We’ll see what the judges say.”
“It’ll be fine. Come on. They’re going to start soon.”
The windows in the corridor outside the washroom overlooked a dark scene of black clouds, wildly waving tree limbs, and trash tumbling across the landscaped lawn. The building the regional episode of Canada’s Best Recipes was using as a studio was on the edge of Regina’s city limits, and one side offered a clear view of the prairies beyond it.
“It’s getting worse out there,” Sue noted. She held the door to the kitchen area while Joni walked through, then let go. It closed with an echoing bang, leaving the weather outside a distant memory amid the bright, shining cooking stations.
Joni resumed her spot behind her designated island, one of eight on the floor. They’d already presented their side dishes and main courses. Her zucchini fritters with spicy sour cream had been well received, and her chicken paprika had earned her a “well done” from one of the judges. Now her tiered dessert tray sat at the end of the stone counter, the small round choux pastries stuffed with a light mocha cream looking like tiny textured golden balls on the plate. Across the aisle, Sue’s meringues looked like little stoplights. Behind her, Mark from Churchill’s cupcakes had more frosting than cake. Joni felt that she was in good shape when it came to the competition.
Except for Paul freaking Lawson, her own personal nemesis. Who would have thought a cowboy from her new hometown was going to be her biggest threat in the kitchen? His corn fritters had gotten rave reviews, and even she’d been impressed with his Chicken Kyev.
She was supposed to be the professional chef. Opening Flour Power Bakery in Hopewell had been the culmination of half a decade’s hard work. Joni had put in her time at two different bakeries in Winnipeg, learning the ropes in the kitchen while also taking several business courses at the local community college. As soon as she had the confidence that she knew what she was doing and the savings to turn her dream into reality, she’d begun looking for a home for her new bakery.
Hopewell had fit the bill perfectly. The small Manitoba town was making a comeback; three new businesses had opened in the last year, increasing the live-in population. Plus, upgrades to the local hospital meant the town was having an influx of day visitors, all of whom had to eat. With only one restaurant, a bakery was the perfect enterprise to pick up the slack. Joni had other, less practical reasons for picking it, including its proximity to her favourite football team and already knowing a couple of people in town, but it had been a good choice overall.
Of course, all the recent changes in Hopewell were thanks to a group of locals who had won a fifty-million-dollar jackpot the previous year. Joni had met a couple of them, and they seemed like nice, normal people. One of them, Scarlett St. James, had even hired her to supply the baked goods for her restaurant down the street.
Flour Power had had a strong start out of the gate. The contract with Ruth’s Place gave her a regular income, which was a cushion Joni desperately needed. She hadn’t convinced the local grocery store to let her stock her bread there, but since she was right next door, some large signage drew in a fair number of shoppers. She was also debating whether or not she wanted to set up a custom birthday cake page on her website; she was still running numbers on that.
Then she’d heard back from Canada’s Best Recipes, and her carefully organized first-year-of-business plan had gone out the window. The timing wasn’t ideal; she hated shutting down the bakery while she was gone, especially when she was trying to establish a regular clientele. On the other hand, as soon as she’d posted that she’d made it to the regional tryouts, the surge in traffic looking for information about the show had made up for part of the business she’d lose while she was a contestant. And if she won… Her breath caught at the idea. The contest’s winner got a cookbook contract and a cash prize. That would keep Flour Power on the map and in business for at least two more years.
Of course, winning depended on Paul not knocking her out of the running on her first day. Joni snuck another look at his pumpkin pie blondies. The scents of ginger and cinnamon set her mouth watering. The gloss of their finish and their consistent sizes were sure to appeal to the judges.
The cameras were rolling, and the hosts were halfway through their dessert spiel when a cell phone sounded in the background. As everybody turned in unison to stare disapprovingly at the production assistant who had violated set protocol, another phone shrilled out the same alarm. Then a third.
